Zurean Empire, Base of Operations

[Mathus]

It all happened in an instant. The air near the port began to distort, hordes of warriors appeared, some human and some demonic. They start attacking without warning and within minutes, the entire port was reduced to rubble. A base, though it look like a palace, is then constructed on the spot and it held the entire population of the port as hostages, though some luckier ones had manage to escape capture.

A few minutes later, a man and a young girl appeared through the rift and entered the base.

"Hmm, that was much easier than expected, must have been a weak area"

"Save the comments for later. Order the scouts to check the surrounding territories, be sure to construct some defenses. We need to strengthen our hold in this world"

"Fine fine, you're the one in charge of this invasion after all"

'I don't get why he made you in charge of this, I am the military commander. But I guess I can't really question his decisions'

The man left to convey the orders to the troops, whilst the girl walked to a nearby balcony and sighed.

"Now, where could you be, master?"

[NPC Controller 3]

Port of Orlania Defence Authority[/u]

It all happened in an instant, a ripple, a flash, and an entire army materialized within the port, destroying it, seemingly making way for the invader's own base.

The normally calm and relaxed Nicholas Hynson bolted upright in his chair as reports streamed in, almost the entire port area was gone, replaced by some invading force's structure. The few survivors who had made it out spoke briefly of demonic warriors allied with humanoid fighters before collapsing of exhaustion. His cigar completely forgotten, Nicholas felt the long forgotten surge of adrenaline, experienced in his days in the Navy both as a crewman and an officer, filled him with a sense of urgency.

"Ric! Where are you! Scramble all units we have at our disposal! All combat fit pilots, prepare for takeoff! Cargo carriers, prepare for refugee transport! Relay the orders, now!"

As his scrawny assistant, Ric, ran outside to broadcast his orders, Nicholas turned to the telephone on his desk and punched in the number for Orlania's military headquarters.

Never thought I'd have to use this.

It wasn't long before the call was answered.

"Hello? Samantha? It's Nick. I'm sure you should've heard by now, the port has been destroyed, and we need emergency forces to keep the enemy holed up in the port till we can gather more to mount an offensive. Pull out all the stops, call in New Technia, we'll need all the help we can get. Thank you, goodbye."

He had known the head for Orlania military operations, Samantha P. McIntyre, in his days as an officer in the Navy. As Nicholas gathered up his belongings in the office, he chanced a look outside the window and saw as a few frigates and destroyers close to the destroyed harbor move into a line for a broadside.

The first ship to fire was the RON Beatric, whom Nicholas recognized, he had served aboard her before. Her magnificent triple barreled turrets rotated to face the enemy monolith, and fired. The rest of the five battleships followed, and a wave of high explosive shells sailed toward the palace.

Captain Victor Ryans, 5th Orlanian Artillery Regiment[/u]

"Yes, ma'am, understood."

Victor removed his fingers from his earpiece, and turned to face the assorted group of men who had gathered in his bunk for the emergency briefing.

"We all know what happened to our port city, and we all know what we want, which is to blow all those dirty sons-of-bitches back to whatever universe they came from, but that will have to wait. Command wants us to set up a bombardment of their base to keep them busy until reinforcements arrive, the job is simple. Captain Mike Ingham from Mechanized Infantry will protect us while our guns shell the enemy, standard procedure. Now, move out!"

It wasn't long until twelve M110 Paladin howitzers thundered out of the base, flanked by an assortment of APCs and humvees that carried, in addition to their heavy machinegun armaments, soldiers with SM-AT/AA Recoilless Rifles, sniper rifles, and the usual assault rifles.

A short ride later, the particular response task force had entered within maximum range for the howitzers to fire, and they quickly took up position. Barrels aimed at the sky, the 155mm cannons sent yet more high explosive shells hurtling towards the Zurean base in a blast of thunder.

Multiple other similar groups were also scattered about the outer perimeter of the port, determined to halt the spread of the invasion right at its base.

New Orlania Governmental Headquarters[/u]

The message was short and terse. A plea for help, and the need of a quick and decisive response.

Rechecked and then encrypted, the distress call settled into the global communications network, traveling at lightning speed before entering New Technia's governmental office computers a split second later.

[Mathus]

"So, they're starting to retaliate, but it'll be useless."

'Glade of Creation, activate'

Within a second, all of her clothes have been replaced by a black armor that barely covered her body. The armor was so thin, it could be mistaken for a tattoo. She then raised her right hand and muttered.

"Shield of darkness."

The whole palace was covered in darkness for a millisecond. A black sphere materialized and hovered above her hand, indicating that the barrier was in place. She then created a pedestal and placed the sphere on it. The shells arrived and impact the barrier, but there was no explosion as the shells were eaten by the barrier itself.

"Hehehe, keep attacking. I'll just send everything back at once.

---

The man was still on his way to convey his orders to the troops when he felt the wave of darkness.

"Attacking already? Boy, they sure are quick."

Creating a microphone made of earth, he broadcasted his orders throughout the palace.

"Ifrit division, man the towers and start flinging those fireballs at them. Gaia and shiva division, conceal yourself and go wreck havoc on their formation. Zephyr division, blend into the air and clip their aerial force, if there's any.

The troops swiftly executed their orders, as if they had done it many times before.

[NPC Controller 3]

Nicholas Hynson, Near Port Orlania Harbor[/u]

The sounds of explosions never came. Even as the cannons fired another wave, all that came after that was silence. Nicholas couldn't help but turn around.

Surrounding the alien base now was a black globe, absorbing the shots without detonating them.

Turning about again, Nicholas hurried after the group of evacuating personnel.

Captain Victor Ryans, Port Orlania Outer Perimeter

Fireballs.

No, not the flaming meatballs that he enjoyed eating, actual fireballs coming at them out of nowhere. Already, several vehicles lay as smoking wrecks, and near him sprawled the corpses of several soldiers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor spotted a flit of movement. Spinning about and bringing his rifle to bear, he fired a short burst but hit nothing but a burning tree trunk.

Damn.

More movement, upwards this time. He could barely make it out, but he could see the outline of a flying figure in the sky above the clearing.

You're not getting away.

Reaching for a fallen SM-AT/AA Recoilless Rifle, he sighted through the scope and a few seconds later, it confirmed a lock. Victor squeezed the trigger, and a high velocity rocket exited the tube to impact the figure a moment later, splattering it into a mist of blood and bits of falling entrails.

A measure of vengeance, at least.

Throwing the spent tube aside, he heard someone call out to him.

"Sir, sir! We're pulling out, come! Quick!"

An APC was still functional, and the few remaining defenders had already setup a defensive ring about it while a few dragged the wounded inside.

The heavy machinegun mounted on the vehicle was tearing up the forest about it, but aside from one enemy corpse, it had had no better luck. Indeed, the ground was littered with far more human corpses, some charred beyond recognition, others shot or stabbed to death with shards of ice.

"Hold on!"

Victor tossed his rifle aside and sprinted for the APC hatch, his vision was hazy, his hearing undecipherable, and he all but stumbled onto the ground, losing balance.

"Let's go, let's go!"

They were leaving without him.

The APC sped off back towards the outpost, with less than a third of the original force remaining.

Rolling over onto his back, Victor gazed up into the red sky, which seemed to glare at him with an intense hatred.

"Fuck you." He muttered, not sure what he meant.

An alien soldier walked over to him, and cocked its head as he gave it the finger.

"Hey, fuck you, too." He fumbled for a grenade, but the alien trooper noticed the movement and kicked his hand, breaking his fingers. It then brought its boot up and stomped on Victor's head, giving him instant oblivion.

Captain York Rickster, RONS Beatris[/u]

"Captain, our attacks aren't doing any visible damage!"

The clearly distressed tone of the Ensign wasn't good, a combat ship needed steadfast men and women, not jittery ones.

The radio crackled.

"RONS Beatris, this is Command, there is a general retreat order, move up the shore to join up with Allied naval forces, be ready for a counterattack on moment's notice, Command out."

Captain Rickster turned to the nearby Navigational Officer and repeated the orders.

"Aye, aye, Captain. Bearing set."

"Lieutenant Weng, set the receiver to all frequencies, we will be joining up with an Allied battlegroup, be vigilant and report any contact straight away!"

"I, I, sir!" Came the reply.

Captain Rickster eyed the black globe that surrounded the alien base as they steamed away.

If wars are getting more magic based as time progresses, why aren't we putting more money into magic weapons research? It'd give us a real edge.

RONS Rogue, Ten Kilometers from the New Orlanian coast[/u]

The nuclear submarine stayed dormant, more than a kilometer under the water surface, running on minimal power so as to stay undetected.

A maser located on-shore would send it commands via a narrow beam transmission radio line, it's only job now was to wait, though all sixteen nuclear missiles within were primed and ready for launch.

Jeanne Rosser, Port of New Orlania outskirts[/u]

Dead, they were all dead.

It was an ordinary day like any other, the news that the war in New Technia was over had come and gone a few days ago, everyone had sighed a breath of relief, life would return to normal, and it did, for a couple of days, at least.

Then they came. A flood of unstoppable power, of hideous monstrosities and hellish visages. The only thing she could remember clearly was hiding in a closed gutter, playing dead as the chaos reigned all above her, flames engulfed entire houses, gusts of wind smashed people against walls, walls of ice froze people solid before chunks of rock shattered them into red pieces of meat.

Only after the carnage had passed had Jeanne mustered the courage to make a run for it. She ran past burning houses, smoldering remains of vehicles and chunks of charred flesh that she knew once were living, breathing people.

Miraculously, an oil tanker lay on its side, untouched. It was then that Jeanne's eyes saw a trail of black, and it slicked toward a nearby fire. It occurred to her a second later what it really was, and she flung herself behind the hulk of a burned out bus, scraping her arm in the process, but saving herself from the bone-jarring explosion.

The sky was a hellish red as dust and smoke rose into the sky from countless fires, blotting out the sun and causing a choking miasma. Trying not to breathe as much as possible, Jeanne had sprinted out, through the broken town gate, and into the woods that lay beyond the walls. Heart still pounding, she scanned her surroundings with large, fearful eyes.

Are they coming for me?

She chanced a glance over her shoulder. No bringer of apocalypse stood there. She'd then walked through the forest, not daring to chance staying on an open road for too long, lest she be spotted. Panic still gripped her as she fled, she saw faces that weren't there, turned corners with apprehension, and more than once saw lightning in her vision that vanished when she blinked.

I'm going mad, I'm going to die.

She stumbled into an opening, and her tortured mind thought it saw the warm smile of her mother, welcoming her back home with wide, open arms. Jeanne blinked, only for it all to disappear and be replaced with the image of a man reaching out for her as she tipped over forwards, far too exhausted and traumatised to go any further.

With the last of her strength, she read the nametag on his scruffy shirt, it read.

Ayasaki Hayate

Then her overloaded mind finally shut down as she closed her eyes.

[Mathus]

Makeshift Throne Room
"Zerus, recall the land troops"

The man, Zerus, had just entered the room to report that the troops have been mobilized when he was given another order.

"Recall?! So soon? But I ju-

"NOW! I'm getting bored of this."

"Ugh fine, whatever you say then."

"Ifrit Division, fire the retreat flares."

She then disabled the barrier, picked up the sphere and walked to the balcony. Upon reaching it, she jumped, materialized a pair of black wings with gray streaks and fly upwards. Once at suitable altitude, she stop and surveys the area.

"Compression, 100%"

The sphere immediately shrunk to the size of a marble.

"Let's see, maybe that important-looking building over there, or maybe that central of that area. Or maybe both."

"Replicate"

She then created another similar marble on the other hand. Flinging one at the building, and the other at the central area of West Orlania.

---

Somewhere in the Outer Perimeter of Port Orlania
The Gaia and Shiva division pushes forward, having used golems as shields, they had sustained zero casualties. A high ranking officer happened to look behind him and saw the flares.

"Everyone STOP! The flares are out, time to retreat. Remember to salvage any usable items on your way back to bolster our forces. If any of you happen to have suicidal thoughts, feel free to stay."

The troops began their march back, picking up guns, tanks and anything that looks valuable. None however, were willing to stay and press onwards.

[NPC Controller 3]

Corporal Benjamin Khan, New Orlania Defense Perimeter Outpost[/u]

Was it a wise choice to leave the Captain behind?

They had peered out of the slits the APC had for windows as they took off, watching the carnage, the slaughter.

But if we tried to rescue him, we'd probably be dead, too.

Even after they had cleared the killzone, they still watched, alert for any enemy contact, but none had came.

Would this be called an honorable sacrifice by the Captain, or have we just committed murder?

His thoughts went unanswered as they came to a halt in the outpost, going off into the Watch Commander's bunker to report and give valuable intelligence on the enemy.

"What have you got to report, soldier?"

"Sir, the enemy is fast, way too fast for us. We had to le-leave the Captain behind. I'm sorry, sir."

The truth had to be spoken, by the time the burial detail dared to approach the clearing to gather bodies, the war would either have been over, that is, if they won it.

"I see, alright soldier, go get some rest. Dismissed."

As the Corporal wondered out onto the courtyard, he still wondered at his actions, afterall, in his panic at seeing the Captain fall, he had shouted for them to go.

Did he do the right thing? Would it have been worth the risk to collect the Captain, who was lying a good twenty meters from the APC?

Even as the outpost personnel provided him with a bunk and a shower facility to clean up, his addled mind would not give him an answer.

Constable Henry Copper, Port of New Orlania Central Police Headquarters[/u]

Dressed in the standard combat uniform, a medium kevlar vest, round helmet, thick pants, gloves, and combat boots, Henry looked almost every part the counter-terrorist special forces agent. But in reality he was merely an ordinary policeman.

He had obtained his weapon, a SPAS-12 semi-automatic shotgun, and his armor from the armory in the headquarters, which was, fortuitously, more well stocked than the average police post.

He had holed up in the office for a couple of days, aware of the alien rampage all around, but by some unknown grace, he had been spared, but whether only to continue witnessing the carnage first hand, or to ultimately lead to his salvation, remains to be known.

How am I going to survive this?

At first, he looked as the enemy army had moved out of the port, and this gave him hope that he could sneak out behind them, but much to his dismay, they had all returned about an hour later.

Being stuck in a burning building wasn't doing his chances much good, either. Sooner or later, the building would collapse, or he would die from too much smoke inhalation, neither of them being very good ways to die.

I've got to get out of here, or I'll die, regardless.

With renewed resolve, Henry settled into a duck-walk position and moved slowly out to the corridor, scanning both ways before proceeding towards the emergency stairwell. Finding the door wide open, he proceeded through and climbed down, step by step, careful to emit as little noise as possible so as not to alert any enemy forces that might have remained in the building.

The design of this particular stairwell had walls made of glass instead of concrete, hence Henry made his way back into the main building at the third floor to avoid detection from the swarming horde below.

Okay, let's see now, there should be a-

A crash behind him made his hair stand on end as he spun around to face it, only to see that it was a beam from the ceiling collapsing, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

Calm yourself, Henry. No enemy would be here, they probably think they've killed everyone, anyway. The backdoor dispatch garage should be around this corner and further down...

He turned the corner to come face to face with a hideous face, nearly pulling the trigger, only to realise that it was the visage of a badly mangled corpse, hung from the ceiling.

Shit, fucking bastards.

He made his way past the special forces bunks, and swapped his SPAS-12 shotgun for an ACR assault rifle, and also appropriating some ammunition and flashbang and smoke grenades.

Slinging the rifle over his back, he slid the ammunition between his belt and his pants, and clipped the grenades to his kevlar harness.

Here goes, hopefully none of them are milling about down there.

Grabbing the pole commonly also seen in fire stations, he wrapped his legs around it and slid down.

Thud. His boots made an audible sound on the floor, reverberating around the cavernous garage, where several ruined vehicles lay.

Scanning in a full circle, he caught movement, but it was human. Making his way over, he found a badly burned but still alive commando facedown on the floor. Turning him over carefully, he looked him over and whispered to him.

"Hey, you alright, buddy? Can you stand? Let's make our way out, together."

*Cough* "I... Can't, I can't move my legs, b-but I'll distract them for you, I still have this one grenade."

Moved by the wounded trooper's gallant sacrifice, Henry could only nod and look away.

He made his way over to a side entrance, away from the main entrance which was used by vehicles, and waited for the man's signal.

BOOM! Came his cue, and Henry waited a couple seconds before bursting out and running as fast as he could. He could see as masses of enemy soldiers crowded into the garage, eager to investigate the cause of the explosion, anything, to ease their boredom.

Diving into a ditch, Henry belly-crawled his way across it's length, praying and praying that he wouldn't be spotted, but also not daring to look up.

Seconds passed like hours, and Henry reached the other side of the ditch, where it opened up to a main road.

So far so good...

He pulled the pin on one of the smoke grenades and set it in the dirt, letting the smoke it generated add further to the already smoky atmosphere, which would help to cover him as he got up and sprinted to the building across the street.

Once inside, he dropped to his belly and crawled into an aisle, so as to not be discovered by any soldier who might've chanced a look inside the store. Unslinging his rifle, he crawled to the end of the aisle and looked at the logo behind the counter.

O-Mart, ok, that means I'm about three hundred meters from the edge of the port.

He moved silently into the storage room, careful not to trip over anything in the grim darkness. Peering out of the slightly ajar double-doors at the other end, he contemplated his best course of escape.

Reconnaissance Plane, New Orlanian Airspace[/u]

The high definition camera mounted on the chin of the tiny spyplane recorded enemy troop movements, and they were retreating.

Beaming the footage to an overhead satellite, the plane continued its surveillance.

[Mathus]

Palace Entrance
To the enemy, it doesn't look like an entrance, due to the high walls and no visible gate. But to the troops, any part of the palace walls is an entrance. They however, weren't expecting their commander to be standing there, waiting for them.

"Alright boys, drop those junks inside and start fortifying the defenses."

"Understood, commander."

The squad leader responded and everyone bows before rushing inside.

'Maybe I shouldn't have trained them to do that, feels kinda weird now. But, oh well. I guess I should fortify this place too."

Zerus then proceeds to create a moat filled with molten lava before heading inside.

---

Few minutes later

---

One of the three huge towers of the palace
A special ops from the zephyr division uncloaks himself and lands on the tower, where special ops from the other division were waiting for him.

"Took you long enough."

"My apologizes. My division had decided to scout the surrounding area."

"Well, no matter. Let us begin the construction."

Standing at each compass point, they channel their magic into the center, constructing an elemental monstrosity. It resembles a dragon, but with a body made of earth, claws and fangs of ice, joints of air and wings of flame. Once completed, it took off from the tower and began it's reign of terror in the skies. But, the special ops didn't stop there, they had already began to create another one.

---

The docks
This place had, magically, turn into some sort of a winter wonderland. The waters had been frozen, and the frost field is still expanding. Ice towers with a ballista mounted on them sprang from the ice, shooting giant icicles into the sea and ships, freezing them. But, there were no signs of any troops in the area.

---

The palace courtyard
Even though this is the courtyard, it is nothing but a huge barren land. But, it is sufficient for his workshop.

"Oh earth of this foreign world, awaken and obey my command. Arise dragons of the earth."

The land cracked and legions of earth dragons rose from it.

"Go, kill any who dares venture into our territory."

The dragons then dived back into the earth, and began searching for any unexpecting prey to attack.

[NPC Controller 3]

Constable Henry Copper, Port of New Orlania[/u]

No movement.

The rest of the enemy forces seemed to have moved further into the port, leaving the peripherals empty.

Alright, here's my chanc-

The ground next to him erupted, and only a hastily performed combat roll, borne out of adrenaline rather than training, saved him from the protrusion that jutted out.

But it wasn't just some protrusion, as the entire piece of earth dislodged itself from the ground, he realised what it was.

A dragon. Made of earth, uh, ok.

Henry was quite surprised at his response to this new, overwhelming threat, all of the logic in his brain screamed at him to run, but he stood rooted, gazing in wonder as the monstrosity drew itself to its full height.

Then it dawned on him.

Crap.

He took off, flinging a flashbang grenade behind him, not sure if it would work on something that had rocks for eyes. Running as fast as his legs could carry him, he saw the gates to the forest beyond the port looming ahead.

Come on, man, best runner in the annual Officer's Re-qualification, you can do this.

But at only two hundred meters, his legs began to give out under him, he dropped his rifle, vest and grenades, and pressed on.

The dragon hadn't caught him yet, which occurred to him as strange. Chancing a glance behind him, it seemed to have had vanished.

Until he saw the gaping hole in the ground some distance off, probably where it had dived down again.

Henry set off again, moving in a seemingly random manner, hoping that when the dragon chose to emerge, he would be able to avoid it.

Almost there, past this intersection and...

The ground beneath his feet fell inward, and the dragon once again erupted to the surface, deadly accurate this time.

Reconnaissance Plane, New Orlanian Airspace[/u]

The onboard AI too simple to comprehend the approaching threat, the camera simply recorded the footage of the dragon approaching it as it continued on its route.

It wasn't long before all that was left were broken parts scattering from the point of impact towards the ground.

Airspace Defence Supercomputer, New Orlania Military Headquarters[/u]

Sensors tracked multiple targets in the sky wheeling about, seemingly searching for prey. They demonstrated no FoF tags and hence were flagged as hostile.

Elsewhere, dotted and concealed amongst heavy foliage, SAM sites rotated to face the airborne threats, locking and confirming targets before sending confirmation requests back to the mainframe.

Running through every confirmation in less than a nanosecond, the supercomputer returned the requests.

</ Clear to engage. >

Not less than eight AA guided missiles took off from each SAM site, heading straight for the dragons in the air.

RONS Rogue, Ten Kilometers from the New Orlanian Coast[/u]

Contact had been lost with the onshore maser, and it was presumed lost.

Running under the logic of its onboard semi-smart AI, the nuclear submarine charted a detoured course towards the incoming naval reinforcements from the various nations, preparing to send a standard hailing message.

[Mathus]

One of the Summoning Towers
The summoning was stopped as all the summoners now lay dead. The channeled magic reversed itself and explode, reducing the tower to rumble.

---

Port Orlania Airspace
The missiles had no effect on the dragons as they merely regenerate themselves. But, with the summoners dead, they're now free-falling.

"Tch, so useless. Cut the source and they're all gone, wonder why we still use them. Guess I'll just have to use alternatives, a waste of master's power."

Raising her right hand into the sky, clouds began to gather but the sky above the palace was clear. Once a sufficient area is covered, she lower her hand while muttering.

"Blood rain."

And it began to rain, raining blood. As it got heavier, the blood starts to form sharp weapons.

---

The Palace Courtyard
"Blood rain eh? Just how much power did he gave you? Oh well, time to chec-"

"Sir, here's your new weapon design sir."

"Ah, perfect timing. Now get back to your duties"

"Sir, yes sir"

The soldier gave a salute before heading back to his post.

"Let's give it a test run."

The earth cracked behind him and two pistols, made of magma, flew into his hands.

"You there, create some mobile targets for me to shot."

[Mathus]

The Palace Courtyard
"Commander, we have discovered a group of hostiles in a nearby vicinity. Requesting reinforcement."

That explains why the dragons I sense in that area are being eliminated, and there's a powerful manipulator too.

"There is no need for reinforcements for I'll deal with them personally."

Looking in the direction of the hangar, he noticed a yellow sphere floating below an aircraft.

So, is that where they are? Looks like I'll need a little help to bring them down.

He shouted towards the sky above him.

"Hey Neilla! Shoot that floating yellow sphere down for me."

With that, he dived into the earth and rush towards the site.

---

Port Orlania Airspace
What am I? His servant or something?

Eyeing the sphere a distance from her, she decided to shoot it down as instructed.

I guess I'll do it, and might as well just destroy it. Time to take a page from master's book.

She created a weight-less metal javelin, suspended above her hand by telekinesis, and infuse it with energy.

Now, to program it. Spin at high speeds and detonate when the spin is stopped.

She then threw the javelin, now a giant drill of energy, forcefully towards the sphere.