Operation Black Dawn

Mission 16 - Black Hand

September 31-October 2(?) - 1995/December 1096

Two days after Chernobog

"...The Black Hand, originally a terrorist organization in post-WW1 Serbia, soon grew to be a powerful arm of the Brotherhood of Nod, eventually becoming its special operations and intelligence division..."

- Wikipedia Article on the 'Crna Ruka'

Brigadier-General Wenli Yang [People's Republic of China] - Camp Tiber - Dated December 1096.

Across a table, there I sat with the GDI contingent's highest-ranking officer. We didn't bring the IDAP Coordinator because he was far too busy providing medical aid to the soldiers and the two locals we got out of that village earlier. So, it was just us discussing where we went. I was put in charge of asking questions from the locals.

We got results. They did not look good.

"...So, what you're telling me is; we're in a different place entirely? This shit isn't Italy?" Fitzgerald responded, sipping his coffee. I nodded and handed the documented report typed by the Black Hand. General Fitzgerald picked them up. He sighed. Mobile Cities? No guns? Gunpowder doesn't exist? The inhabitants have no concept of a 'United Nations' or Brotherhood of Nod? This was already starting to get fishy.

Then it went fishy when she referred to me as someone from Yan. I chalked it up as a country name.

I was accurate.

I also had to change the dates on the clocks. This is why last time, it was 1995, then now, it was 1096.

"Yes. We've interrogated our... 'Asian' friend."

"Humanely, I assume?"

"Very. The Black Hand just needed to stand by me and ensure security while I asked questions. I was careful not to... ask questions that were too personal." I answered. Fitzgerald nodded. "For a Noddie, you seem afraid to not be a decent human being." I almost bit my tongue but chuckled instead. He was right. I was derided for being too 'soft' by the rest of the PLA.

"You can say that. For a Tanhelm, you seem to be ardent on adhering to the United Nations Mandate." I responded.

"You can say that, too." He echoed. We both chuckled at that.

We both went back to the topic at hand. "So, what exactly are we looking at here?" Jean said, going back to the papers. "It mentions that there are multiple nations throughout this... 'place'. But all of them are afflicted by natural disasters not too dissimilar from NCID."

"Correct. It would not be wrong to say that this world has an NCID of its own." I brought up documents of samples recovered by the camp's NBC division. Jean snatched the folder immediately and greedily read through it. I continued. "The locals call this 'Originium'. The condition doesn't have an official name - unlike NCID - it's just referred to as 'Oripathy'."

Jean put the folder down and looked at me.

"And did any of our troops come down with this?"

I nodded my head.

"Damnit."

Continuing, I pulled up yet another document. It was a list of troops diagnosed with NCID and an 'Unknown Condition' - later identified by locals as Oripathy, much to my horror.

"Private Alvin Payne, United States Army," I listed off. "Private Andrus Harma, Estonian Army," I continued, before sighing and deciding to skip the other names. "Multiple soldiers from the UN, some Russian, some European, some Japanese, and some other Americans." I finished, before tallying the total infections. "17 GDI infections, 1 Nod infection."

General Fitzgerald sighed. "Fuck me." He put the documents down and leaned back staring at the ceiling. "We're going to need to compensate them heavily," He proposed. "How about a pay raise?"

"That would incentivize infections, Fitz."

"Fine then. How about bonuses for serving in GDI-"

"Or Nod," I added, pointing my finger up. "Remember. Nod cherishes soldiers infected with NCID who still serve the Cause. Especially the Sinkists, who emphasize brotherhood and unity with the infected."

"-And Nod," He corrected. "While having an active Oripathy and-or NCID infection?"

I nodded. "It works. But what kind of Bonuses do we talk about here?" I added.

"...Life insurance?"

"Works, I guess? But who do we send it to?"

"We ask them if they want to write a will for friends or associates, I suppose. They'll receive parts of the cut."

"And if they refuse to sign?"

"We keep the money, but..."

"...We martyr them."

"Exactly." Fitzgerald finished. "You Noddies have always been about martyring. What say we use it to keep hopes high in the face of world infection?"

"Fitz. I agree. Entirely. Which is why I'm approving of this part."

"Thanks."

"But we still need to emphasize the consequences of infection so they don't go willy-nilly shoving crystals up their ass using a dildo," I added. "Maybe publish a pamphlet? Get testimonies from the infected? Emphasize the social consequences of quarantine?" I proposed. Fitzgerald went thinking.

"Yes. Let's do that."

"Right. I see we've agreed, then?" I finished, leaning back into my chair and wrapping my hands around my head.

"Yes. Now, onto the other part of the briefing..." Fitz put his hands together.

"...The current problem eastward, I presume?" I asked.

"Si."

"Did you send recon aircraft to Chernobog to track movement after they were reported by the Infantry Unit?"

"Yes. They were headed to another city 'taking in' refugees. Can't remember what it was called, though..."

"Lungmen. It's a Special Economic Zone."

"Right."

"There's our problem. Our Infantry Unit reported the Reunion movement to Lungmen. A report verified by the U-2 spy plane your Infantry Unit requested. We tracked a few hundred Reunion 'fighters' sneaking into the city."

"Did you show it to the locals to verify the location?"

"Yes. We asked them if they could tell what this city was."

"Well?"

"They identified Lungmen, and it's special to them. It's an SEZ, yes, but it's a 'roided SEZ. The locals used to visit it a few years ago."

"Great. So they're going to what's basically the World Trade Center on wheels. Fucking amazing."

"Which is why I've elected to send a Nod infantry battalion to support the city. Or, at least, prevent Reunion movements into the city." I put up maps of Lungmen taken by U2 and drew Nod infantry entry points on it. "The Black Hand will enter first, to scout out the area and soften up Reunion. When they launch anything, the Infantry Battalions will strike."

Fitz raised a question.

"Without the knowledge of the Lungmen Government, Yang?"

"I wish we had the proper channels. Unfortunately, we don't. Still, Nod is a terror organization back home." I facepalmed internally saying that, but continued. "It's our job. We can do this and get it blamed on something else."

Fitz reluctantly nodded, clearly still perturbed by the fact that we'd be essentially doing illegal black ops. He then sighed.

"Why did we designate them as hostile, again?"

"According to the locals, from what she heard, they designate all non-infected as enemies. Unfortunately, we're not exactly an Infected All-Military Union. That, and they opened fire on one of our pilots."

"Yay. Making enemies already. What a fucking great idea..."

Fitzgerald sighed. So did I. We didn't need this.

"Has your Chernobog Infantry Unit set up an evac zone for the civvies yet?"

"They're on it."

"Good. Think we should launch a Refuge Initiative?"

"I don't see why not. Means more people to ask... and potentially more manpower." The last part didn't phase me. We all needed military-aged troops. But sometimes desperation calls for measures...

"Alright. This concludes our meeting then. We can assess the political situation later. I'll tell the Black Hand to find any computers or disks. Maybe they can come up with new information when they come back."

"Right then. I suppose this meeting's done?"

"It is. I believe we should discuss the political ramifications someday else. Goodnight, General Fitzgerald."

"You too, General Yang. Have a good night."

I got up from my seat and walked away.

I needed a rest. Especially after ordering the Black Hand to commit very illegal black operations. But I did have some assurances. These were the Black Hand. They could competently enter Lungmen to scout out before the Nod infantry did.

What could go wrong with the Black Hand?

Two Days Later

Major Sofija Jovanović [Yugoslav Socialist Republic - Crna Ruka] - Lungmen Slums - Dated October 2, 1097.

When I finally got out of the sewers, I couldn't believe it. We had managed to enter this Mobile City. But God, the method we had to get in here was hellish. The city itself looked sprawling on the outside, but the way in was through the slums. Which, as you can tell...

"I am never relying on faulty city plumbing ever again," One of my fellow Black Hand operators mumbled, grabbing his AT-47 Tesla Rifle*. "It smells like shit, it tastes like shit- Hell, it even is shit!" He sat next to a crumbling wall while it was raining. "At least the Rain's there to wash away this shit." He conceded. "It makes me feel like I'm back in Vietnam."

I couldn't agree more. Squatting near a sewer manhole, holding an ADS Devastator Rifle* from the Second World War, I helped another member of the squad get up. Then he helped another man get up. Then another. Then some more. It ended when our sniper managed to get up from the sewers. I checked the batteries on my ADS. "Alright, weapons check."

We all chambered or checked our batteries. The man with the Tesla Rifle was supposed to be our support operator, given the area-of-effect principle his weapon worked on. Another Black Hand Operator had an ADS Devastator Rifle. The Medic we had on our team was equipped with an M5 Spear. The sniper had an SVD Dragunov, and the last guy...

"Is that a Riot Shield and a Baton?" I asked.

"Yes, Sofija," The riot control officer - badge reading Nikolić - replied. "It is indeed a shield and baton."

The Medic - Ilić - chuckled. "What, were you in the Milicija?"

"Yes, actually," The tesla rifle soldier - called Nikola - responded. "Records state he was Milicija before being transferred to the Black Hand."

The last guy with the ADS Rifle - nametag Mirsad - butted in. "Not surprising. This place is reported to be the slums. It's best that we keep a former riot control officer in hand."

The person with the SVD - nametag reading Siniša - continued. "Can it. We've got to finish this operation." He added. "We can save the life stories for later. Got it?"

"Alright." Mirsad chuckled. "Sofija, lead the way."

I then brought my hand up. "Fall in." I commanded, with the team moving behind me. We marched in the rain towards what we could assume was our objective. Sure, using a tesla rifle in rain was a terrible idea but what other ideas do you see come out of Nod's RnD? It was cold, raining, and we were out to scout for things.

When we crouched near a trashcan in an alleyway, Nikola was the first to break cover and go to another trashcan. Leaning his head around, he called for us to get over there. I walked over, and so did Siniša. The rest of them stayed behind and stood on guard for threats. When I went near Nikola, he handed me his binoculars. I had honestly forgotten mine, but whatever.

"Major," He adds. "Take a look. Beyond the alley."

I zoomed in.

"Cars. I knew I should've expected civilian activity. Why didn't our op planners tell us that?"

"Hell if I know," Nikola adds. "All we know is that we cannot fuck this up." He takes the binoculars. "I don't know about you, but I'm not risking my life to kill witnesses."

"So am I," Siniša added. "I've had enough of Nod being known for killing civvies. Let's put a stop to that, mkay?"

I shrugged. I wasn't planning on killing children anyday. So, I instead opted to get them to fall in. "Alright. New plan. Stay in the shadows." I added. "Don't engage unless absolutely necessary."

The squad nodded and we ended up not going to that alleyway, as it ended going to the streets. Instead, when we moved through the slums, we ended up entering through abandoned apartments. Through one alley, we found an abandoned apartment which I presumed had a backdoor. Because the other apartments here did have one.

It's hard for me to explain, as I never lived in Hong Kong. I only heard stories from other Black Hand Operatives who got sent there.

But this does remind me of HK.

"Door's locked." I informed. "Nikolić, get the door open." I ordered, stepping back as Nikolić took to the front and took out his lockpick.

"Hey, Major," Mirsad called. "You ever wonder why this place is such a shithole? I mean, take a look- It looks deserted, it's raining, and as far as I can tell, not many people have lights out here."

"Reminds me of wartime Iran," Nikola muttered. "The place was dark and you wouldn't be able to see much. The slums and apartments that normally had some light in them were often... well, dark and empty. Not a single source of light."

"Think they'd make for great horror stories?" Mirsad asked.

"Probably. I'd just need to find a channel to pitch them to."

"Alrighty then."

"Though there was a catch," Nikola interrupted. "Those regions? The ones that were darkened to all hell and lifeless? Yeah, those were the Kurdish ghettos."

"...Kurdish... ghettos?" Mirsad stopped.

"Yeah. The Iranian Government didn't like them, so they were locked away and to be basically forgotten for the rest of their lives. I'm..." Nikola stopped. "I'm starting to suspect it's the same case here. They keep the undesirables in an easily controllable and containable location while giving it nothing in regards to quality of life."

"I've been the victim of one," Siniša added. "When I went to live in HK as an infiltrator on behalf of the PLA, I was thrown into the cramped apartments. It was shit there. The places were cramped, our electricity often went out, and we just barely made by. I was glad I got out of there."

"So... do you think they just take minorities and... dump them here?" I asked, looking at the area we were in.

"Yeah. Nod does it." Nikola adds.

"Parts of Nod anyway. We Yugoslavs take anyone in..."

"Hopefully."

The last line was repeated by the rest of the group. Though not by Nikolić, who was almost done with his lockpicking.

"Door's open. Let's get in."

Nikolić opened the door, and I came in first, rifle in hand. We all ran in like it was a police raid, weapon flashlights on as we took a look at the interior of the apartment we had broken into.

"Major!" Nikola shouted. "Take a look at this!" He pointed his rifle at the couch, weaponlight emitting onto what he wanted me to see. And what I did see was some part horrifying, some part sad.

"Jesus..."

A girl, completely alone, cradling her pillow. While crystallized. Similar to NCID. We were wearing gas masks due to our briefing on Oripathy, and didn't come into contact with the body, so we were fine unlike the other infections. But still... This girl looked like she died sad. I could only guess by her body pose. Desperately cradling her pillow, dying as the crystal took her. And having no way to cure it...

"Poor girl's dead of Oripathy." Ilić said. "Died just recently." My heart sank hearing that. If we were just here earlier...

"She's got Dragon features..." Siniša added. "Fuck. This world's getting crazier and crazier."

"Major. What do we do here?" Mirsad asked, lowering his weapon.

"What can we do here, Mirsad?" I retorted, "She's dead. Abandoned." I was about to tear up, but instead turned it into melancholy. "It's best we leave her body alone. We can't do anything. Let's just go."

The team solemnly nodded, and proceeded to exit through the back door. While we were exiting, though, Siniša opened up.

"They're leaving people to die in these Ghettos..."

"Despicable," Nikolić commented. "I'm going to fucking kill the administrators of this hellhole when we get info back to Command."

"Can it." I hissed. "We've got other things to do."

The team stopped and most of them agreed.

When we approached another alleyway, we kept our weapons trained and lights on. We ended up somewhere with an alleyway facing the street and one going towards another slum section. Nikola, Misrad, and I were approaching the other section with no major resistance while the others stayed behind to watch our backs.

Everything was going smoothly-

Until I heard sirens and men disembarking. Misrad turned his head to the alleyway, and a light shone on him. In fact, two lights shone on him. I stared in abject horror as I heard what was certainly Cantonese - taught to us by PLA instructors - and they told Misrad to 'Put his hands up and surrender'.

He didn't.

"CONTACT!" Misrad shouted. "I'VE GOT TARGETS! THEY'RE COPS!"

"SHIT!" I shouted, and made a split-second decision. The result was obvious. "ENGAGE, ENGAGE!"

Nikola opened up with a Tesla Strike when he fired the rifle towards a puddle in the alleyway, which arced back toward one of the police officers, who dropped his... sword and got electrocuted. Eventually he fell down, dead. And his partner stared at him in horror, then back to me.

I shot my ADS at the other officer, who screamed in terror as he melted into an orange puddle from the effects of the Devastator rifle. The effects were near-instant. The man had dropped into a pile of liquid.

I put my rifle down as the other team members stared at me, Nikola, Misrad in horror.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit-" I commented, before moving back into the shadows as we heard a commotion from beyond the alleyway.

"What the hell did you do?!" Ilić asked, watching in abject horror as more people started to go to the alley where the policemen died.

I leaned at the alley and stared in horror, then back to my team.

"Book it!" I said, grabbing my rifle and running.

The rest of my team did the same. We ran as fast as possible. Hell, we were certain we even heard people chasing after us.

When we finally got to the other slum section, we hid inside an apartment.

The previous occupant was a dead old dragon-man. Dead of Oripathy.

As I sat there, hiding near a decaying body while lights and shouts loomed over our heads, I had one question. For myself.

"How did we get spotted?"

Officer Yen Long [Great Lungmen - L.G.D.] - Lungmen Slums - Dated October 2, 1097.

"Could you describe the assailants for me?" Long asked he filed down reports on a notepad to a witness who reported 'intruders posing as the LGD in the alleys'. When he arrived there, he was expecting the case to have been done easily or got no major result. That notion was shattered when he saw the pile of goo and the electrocuted officer.

That pointed towards Arts.

"They... wore all-black, and had these... glowing red eyes!" The witness described. "They moved in the dark sweeping for everything- I'm certain they almost saw me!"

"Right..." Long continued to write down. He wasn't certain what he meant, but he thought they were probably using arts or something. "Why did you call the LGD when you heard them?" Long continued to ask. "Cases like this don't end in dead officers, you know." Long sighed. This was going to be a really annoying night.

"I... I thought they were LGD, performing a-a sweep... t-that's when I heard their v-voices..." He continued. "They were speaking this... this weird language. I can't... it's like someone took Ursus' language, but made it more incomprehensible..." He muttered. "They... they all had guns... and those-those... those fucking glowing red eyes... I knew I had to stop them before they did anything!"

"And that resulted in you calling for an LGD patrol nearby, correct?" Long continued to write down.

"Yes! I thought that they would be caught... Hindsight is 20/20..." He lamented, sitting down near the wall. "I was under the wrong assumption that they could have been brought to justice."

"You... do realize the reason why not many LGD officers go here, right?"

"...Yes."

"But you still called them anyway." Long sighed. He wrote down a note. 'NOTE: The guy fucking called us into an Infected Slum expecting good results. Fucking retarded.' Then continued on with asking. "Alright. So, what about their murders?"

"I... I ducked down when I saw them, but I heard the altercation..." He recounted, before standing up and walking towards the pile of goo that once had been an LGD Officer.

Long sighed. First, Chernobog falls to the fucking Infected, now this? The infected were growing more and more bold by the day. Long went to a conclusion. 'Next, they'll try stealing the fucking Throne of Victoria.' He muttered to himself in disbelief.

He crouched to inspect and write down the damage on the two dead officers.

'NOTE: First Officer reportedly melted into liquid, remains only identifiable by dropped badge and service number on rifle. Second Officer was electrocuted and suffered fatal nerve damage, possibly got electrocuted near water.'

He took the time to list down the KIA.

Officer Shi Hua - KIA.

Officer Luong Kuo - KIA.

Long bit his lip as he saw the liquefied remains of Officer Shi Hua. But... he had no time for that.

"Are you certain the suspects had Arts?" Long turned to ask the witness, still looking at the liquid that was once Officer Hua.

"Certain. They had... guns of some kind. Not the ones that used Originium bullets, but some form of arts that... that liquefy people and shock people."

"Great. Reunion's now got Arts Guns." Long mused. "The Lateranos aren't going to like that one bit."

The Witness chuckled.

"Certainly not..."

Then, silence.

"Do you think Reunion did it?" Another officer walked up to the alleyway behind Long and the Witness. Both he and Long nodded. It certainly looked like Arts handiwork, and considering Reunion's demographics, it's unsurprising.

"Definitely. The suspects had Arts, and might possibly be infected."

The officer threw his arms into the air, as if he was frustrated.

"Fucking great. Now we've got Reunion everywhere! I knew we should've closed our borders to Chernobog! Fucking Ursine assholes..." The officer stormed off, clearly pissed.

Long had to agree with him. After all, why the hell didn't they fucking tighten the security around the infected? Those fuckers were a liability.

But, another part of him said something else.

"What if this ain't Reunion?" His consciousness asked. "What if this was some other sicko's job entirely? After all, the world isn't just plagued by the Infected, after all."

And to that end, he was silenced. He might be right. This could either be some other sicko's job, and not Reunion's - or it could be an inside job. Still, that didn't forestall the possibility of it being Reunion. To that end, he had nothing else to say. So, to respond to himself, he only uttered two words.

"What if?"

Flight Leader Mojo 2 [Allied Nations - Republic of Britain] - Chernobog - Dated October 2, 1995.

I've been running for the past two days. I was fucking scared... I had... realistically, no idea on how to get out. There I was. A GDI Pilot, one formerly confident and calm - now left scared shitless after being stranded on some shithole that didn't even deserve a name because of how utterly shit it is. Fucking... I normally don't swear a lot, but due to my own predicaments... I only have to say that I'm fucked.

"Fucking..." I sat my revolver down as I looked at my only companion throughout this whole endeavour.

"What are you looking at...?"

You see, when I fled the area, I went into hiding for a long, long time. When I came out of hiding, revolver in hand, I found this guy - let's call him Guard - and he was in a similar situation like me.

Left behind in a fucking necropolis of a city.

I didn't even have my radio to contact the rest of the guys unlike that Southern Korean bastard who got him stuck here in the first place. There I was, out in bumfuck shitass nowhere, equipped with a revolver and nothing else. While my friend had a sword.

"Nothing... Just..." I let my head hang as I leaned on a broken car.

"Just feeling tired?"

Yes. Oh yes, I'm feeling tired. Tired of nearly getting fucking stabbed or spotted by these terrorist fucks. Pretty apt, actually. I never liked running even when I was in high school. Too tiring.

Sad to say that the only reason I wasn't dead yet was because Guard was still kicking.

"Yeah," I added. "I've just been running for the past... four days now." I looked at my tattered G-Suit. This shit was meant for pilots. Not for extended deployments into fucking survival horror.

"Don't worry, we all get tired of running..." He added, before taking something out of his pocket to give to me. "Candy Bar. It'll keep you sane." He added, grabbing another one and eating it as well.

As I ate the candy bar, I chuckled. My mind was healing once again, and when I took a look at the dead city I was in, I chuckled. It was one thing for me to run away, but it was another thing for me to start laughing as soon as I took a bite out of a candy bar.

"You okay there bud?" Guard asked, staring as I chuckled while eating. "Any more and I'd have assumed you hit rock bottom in terms of sanity." He added. It took me a minute, but I laughed even harder.

"Nah, nah, I was just remembering a funny joke," I was telling the truth. "I once took images of, like, dead cities and shit," I clarified, earning a nod from Guard. Even if he looked a little uncomfortable at me laughing at, you know, total societal collapse. "And I used to put captions on them, you know, like - little clarifications and shit," I continued, taking another bite out of the candy bar. "And I'd just title them 'Average city in insert-country-i-hate-here' to get, like, a laugh." I ended. Guard didn't look exactly amused nor horrified.

"You ever worked in a dead city before?" He asks instead, prompting me to grab my revolver and take a look at the cylinder. "Oh have I ever." I finished, putting the revolver down near some rocks. "I once worked in this city, see, we'll call it Birmingham," I said, taking a moment to breathe in and out. "It was..." I stopped, before looking at him.

"What happened to it?" He asked.

"Destroyed." I finished. "It was destroyed back when we had this big war." I stared into the burning husk of a city that was Chernobog.

"Big war?"

"Well..." I bit my lip. "Big for us." I settled on twisting the truth. "Truth is, we weren't exactly as mobile as..." I stopped. "Your areas." He looked surprised.

"How'd your place survive?"

"We were simply lucky to avoid... meteor showers," I said. "That was until we... fought over livable land when those damned Crystals started invading our soil," He was unaware I was talking about Tiberium. But I heard from the guys sent outside of the base that there was form of NCID that was native to the area. I paid no mind to it until... I got stabbed by one. "Then, we had this big war... and we both lost."

"How so?" He continues to ask, pondering. "I thought that at least one side had came out on top."

I chuckled. "Oh, no. We got occupied, sure, but then they lost too. Their inhabitants got worked up and staged a revolution. Then we realized we had nowhere to go, so we..." I stopped. "Well, we're here now."

He took in my story. Probably to kill the time. I wasn't so sure if I performed a lie that wasn't fallible, but even if he knew it was one, he'd probably assume I was making things up to hide something else. I mean, yes, I was... but still. Though, he looked at me with a questioning look on his face after I finished the last sentence. "Wait... where'd you guys get your gear?" He asked. "Blacksteel? Laterano? Columbus? Ursus?"

He had this barrage of questions as to where my gear had come from. Where my revolver was from. Asked me if I paid taxes, asked me if I took care of it every often... hell, he even asked me if I had a halo and angel wings.

What.

"Okay, buddy, slow down. I'll answer your questions when they're not rapid fire." I explained. "Now, tell me exactly what you want to hear from me. Okay?" I finished, before positioning myself at a more comfortable position and waiting for the questions.

"Where did you get your gun?" He asked. I responded, obviously. "The armories of my organization... the United Nations," I said, inspecting it by opening its cylinder and looking at the unfired strikers. "It's a standard revolver. Only used in emergencies."

"Only in emergencies? Then... do you take care of it?" He asked.

"Well, yes. Generally, every two weeks, pilots are required to take their gun out to ensure reliability," I clarified, cocking the hammer and mocking a 'pow' sound. "Last time I test-fired this was a week ago."

"Are you Lateran... or Victorian?"

"Hang on... what do you mean?"

"You use guns like a Lateran... but speak with the accent and pronunciation of a Victorian. Are you... one or the other?" He elaborated. This was where I was going to say 'oh shit'.

"...Err... I'm not either of those..." I meekly added, but this got his attention. He asked me - again - but with a far more serious tone.

"Are. You. Lateran. Or. Victorian." He said.

At that point, I only had one word blaring in my mind and it was 'OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT' over and over again. "And this... United Nations you speak of..." He adds. "I don't know anything like it." He fixates his eyes towards me in a questioning glare.

"Where are you from?" He asks.

...Sighing deeply, I had my dilemmas. Would I have to reveal this information? Would I not? Should I?

I stared at the dead city around me, and came to an answer.

"When we get moving, I'll talk." I answer, before grabbing my revolver. "Don't try anything funny. I'll tell the truth. But just... rest. Okay?"

He squinted and narrowed his eyes, but eventually - he conceded.

"Alright. But you have to answer my questions after."

I sigh in relief. "Sounds like a deal."

And after that, we closed our conversation.

With both of us staring at a dead city.

...Huh, reminds me of Moscow. Only worse.

Much worse.

Notes from Mojo 2:

AT-47 Tesla Rifle - Soviet anti-tank rifle from the Second World War. It served as the USSR's main anti-tank weapon after the RPG-7 became outdated in the face of Allied medium tanks. It is also a very capable anti-infantry weapon. It was retired from GDI service in 1987 after better armor technology was introduced. However, it remains in service with Nod special forces.

ADS Devastator Rifle - Russian anti-tank rifle made during the Giant Ant incursions as a way to liquefy ants at long distances. It also proved to be very deadly to armor at the time of its creation. However as time waned on and better infantry weapons and armor became the norm, the ADS was retired from GDI service in 1988. However it remains with Nod special forces.

Author's Notes:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I cranked this one out as fast as possible in preparation for Veteran's Day. I decided to crunch it for the lols so I can work on my other fic without this one living in my head rent-free. Then I can probably work on my other other project. But I'm not very certain as I am a flimsy and flip-floppy individual. Regardless, I hope this chapter has been a great one.

Fear not! The tales at Chernobog are just beginning. With the Noddies (Black Hand/Lungmen Infantry Units) on Lungmen and the Tanhelms (Mojo 2/Chernobog Infantry Unit) on opposite cities, only time can tell what special operations are ahead of them. But let me put it this way. Guard's not going to defect. No, someone else is. Also...

The Bears will never come out haunted. But at the cost of not joining RI. Don't worry, I have plans for the events. I didn't ignore them. But when I do focus on them only, they'll be labelled 'Spec Ops' akin to the older C&C Games.

Well that's all for tonight folks. I've got Vet's Day ahead of me and Thanksgiving for later. Have a good one.

See y'all next chapter.

Discord Invite: 4m8QfQUE4n