Once again the sun beat down on the sky and the city streets.
But this time the weather was simply normal, not too cold and not too hot.
“Something’s wrong” a general murmured while observing the city from a camera room that focused on every corner.
“They haven’t shown activity exactly today” a soldier added.
“Stay alert.
We don’t know what they might be planning now.
If you see a trace of any of them…
don’t hesitate to fire.
We can’t risk civilians if they’re up to something.” While the general was speaking, a radio sounded again and a shaky voice was heard: “Sir!” he coughed.
“Eh?” The general didn’t wait and grabbed the radio: “What is it, soldier?” “There’s too many…
It’s a whole army…” he coughed harder.
The general confirmed his suspicions, but he was more worried about the young soldier at that moment.
“Cadet, send your location and we’ll go save you” he demanded.
“No, general…
I’m bleeding out…” he coughed harder.
“Get ready, they’re going all out this time…
I managed to infiltrate a base thanks…
to following one of theirs.” “You shouldn’t have done that, cadet.
Send your location, please!
Hold on!
Don’t say that” the general demanded, not desperate for the enemy’s location, but for the young cadet’s condition.
After all, the general was someone who cared a lot about his men, and if one of them died, it was like killing his own son.
Years ago, when the Descents were growing stronger, during one exactly from Horde Four…
His son, a young soldier around 20 years old, left on an incursion with a group of soldiers.
It was his birthday and his first mission.
He thought that way his father would be proud.
But that day…
his son never made it back.
There were no candles to light, no cake to cut, no “happy birthday, son”.
There was only a man crying while watching his son’s coffin lower into a grave.
“Why?!” the man shouted crying while writhing on the cemetery grass.
After all, his son was all he had left after this shitty world.
He lost his wife and his son, all because of one single thing: the Descents.
“No!” the general shouted while grabbing his radio.
With a hand signal, more soldiers followed him.
“Hold on, cadet!
You’re not dying today!
Not under my command…” the general said almost in a whisper, while behind him the soldiers climbed into the armored vehicles.
The sound of someone running could be heard, constantly stumbling from panic, while taking cover behind a group of cargo.
“Shit…” he coughed.
The young cadet coughed blood while firmly holding the wound they’d given him minutes before.
He breathed with difficulty, gritted his teeth from the pain and his forehead kept sweating nonstop.
“Come out wherever you are!” a man shouted.
Two more followed behind him.
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“We won’t hurt you, we just want to talk!” another added.
The cadet didn’t respond.
He stayed still behind the crates and shifted his gaze slightly toward another group of them.
Out of nowhere, that group of crates was destroyed by a point-blank burst of gunfire.
While he thought they were just playing with him, those shots were a clear warning.
The young man dragged himself across the floor toward another stack of crates while they kept hunting him from behind.
“Hurry up!
Follow the location of his radio!” he demanded.
The general moved forward in an armored vehicle while helicopters and more vehicles followed him at full speed through the thick fields of nature.
“Hang in there, cadet…” he let out in a whisper.
“Shit!” the cadet said while running with a wounded leg, dragging himself through the hallways.
“Don’t run, gorgeous!
We’ll just carve you up and feed your remains to my dogs” the man laughed, while the other two laughed too.
“That’s very specific, idiot!” the cadet thought, but he didn’t say it.
He just kept running in zigzags.
“Enough!” the man shouted, firing point-blank at the cadet, who by pure luck managed to reach the end of the hallway and escape through the door to the outside…
big mistake.
The sun in the sky and the wind hit the cadet’s face, and little by little he started to see better again due to the sudden change from darkness to light.
“There you are, brat!” a tall man dressed in black shouted in front of him.
Behind him there were many armored vehicles and, on the right side, five helicopters.
It was Agust.
Behind him you could see almost 90 men dressed the same.
From behind, rapid footsteps were heard until they stopped.
“I got you!” the man exclaimed with a deranged look.
The man lifted the young man up by grabbing the back of his shirt.
Everyone watched as Agust slowly approached while pulling out a huge knife, similar to the ones soldiers use in movies.
“You gave us a lot of trouble, brat.
Now you’ll have to make up for all that trouble” he smiled.
The young man remained silent.
Agust immediately brought the knife close.
He started cutting his face as if it were a mask.
The blood dripped intensely while the young man screamed in pain, but he couldn’t do anything because the other two had him held down tight.
“Shit, ahhhh!” the young man shouted between choked sobs while his face was cut like simple paper.
The sound of blood dripping against the floor formed a very noticeable puddle.
Everyone just laughed.
Agust got close to the young man’s unrecognizable face and whispered to him: “When Wilse gets here you’ll be dead for playing spy, brat.” Then he moved back slightly and brought the knife up again behind the cadet’s head while slowly starting to cut.
“I don’t like your head” he smiled.
The blood started coming out again while the soldier’s screams and cries intensified.
But everyone just laughed.
A dry sound rang out in the air.
The man holding the young man dropped suddenly to the floor.
Another dry bang.
The other man fell while the young man collapsed, writhing in pain.
“What the hell?” Agust turned around angrily.
But before he could keep talking, a burst of gunfire started hitting his men.
Agust and his men threw themselves to the ground, taking cover behind the vehicles, while the burst kept coming.
He’d been caught by surprise.
They quickly grabbed their rifles and went out to confront whoever caused the ambush.
They finally came face to face with a large military group moving in, with vehicles arriving and helicopters firing without missing.
The anti-military forces also brought out their helicopters and vehicles to attack.
The confrontation began.
The sound of explosions and gunfire boomed at full blast.
The blood of fallen soldiers splattered the air as they forced their way toward the base, where the confrontation intensified even more.
Gunfire everywhere and explosions in the sky coming from the helicopters.
After a moment, while General Wilse watched the situation, two soldiers arrived with the young cadet at an area away from the fight.
“Cadet!” Wilse rushed over, almost stumbling, when he saw the scene.
The medics started treating the brutally wounded young man.
Wilse, seeing the disfigured face and the cadet’s slurred expression, felt something break inside him.
“Did I do good?” the cadet said with his last bit of strength before collapsing.
Enraged, he grabbed his rifle and his knife and ran toward the battle zone, cutting through easily fueled by rage at seeing one of his men like that…
a young man who was just doing his job, a young man who risked everything just to send the information.
The general looked like a beast cutting through the anti-soldiers, killing them without mercy.
“Kill them all!” Agust ordered, taking the front while easily slitting a soldier’s jugular.
On the other side, Wilse, the general who never left a man behind, forced his way through smoke and blood, killing one anti-soldier after another.
But in that exact instant, two gazes locked: Agust and Wilse.
Wilse stared at him with lion’s eyes, the knife dripping, the rifle smoking.
Both ran toward each other while explosions surrounded them and bullets crossed through the air.
Wilse’s eyes were red with rage.
Before Agust could get close, he drove the knife into his shoulder.
He aimed the rifle at his head, but a blow knocked him to the floor.
Agust smiled psychotically while kicking Wilse away.
He tried to pull the knife out, but before he could Wilse lunged, headbutting him and breaking his nose.
Agust answered with a clean cut across Wilse’s face, who didn’t even flinch despite the blood running down his face.
Wilse punched Agust in the face, making him stumble back in pain while spitting blood.
He didn’t give him time to breathe.
With the knife still buried in Agust’s shoulder, Wilse started twisting it like a lever while bones and flesh cracked, not stopping his punches to Agust’s abdomen.
Agust answered with a headbutt that knocked Wilse to the floor.
He immediately grabbed his rifle and fired at Agust, sending him flying back against a group of crates.
The Anti-Military forces started dropping one by one while the soldiers pushed through easily, since the enemy had lost their leader.
Everything seemed to point to a successful victory and revenge for the military.
But…
A strong tremor shook the entire perimeter.
The buildings began to crumble while the plants started to rot.
People running in fear and confusion.
“What the fuck?” Zak muttered, watching a bus get swallowed by some kind of purple hole that started opening in the central plaza.
“Hahaha” Agust started laughing uncontrollably between the crates, covered in his own blood.
“It’s time!” Agust laughed, spitting blood onto the ground with his eyes wide open.