The underground tunnel base of Desham was in a frenzy, with recruits gearing up and stocking up the stealth hovercrafts and mineral ants, preparing for the upcoming mission.
“Gas masks! Make sure you have your gas masks! Don’t forget your drills!” Feldon bellowed as he oversaw the movement, with the irregular military force now being reorganised into their various squads and platoons, becoming something akin to a private military company.
Many of them had been training since a month ago, ever since the revolution in Desham. Others were fairly new, having only joined more than two weeks ago as refugees. All of them knew exactly what they were signing up for: mercenaries for hire—a private fighting force led by Kyle.
Kyle did not hide anything from them regarding what they intended to do: they would fight anyone and everyone but themselves as long as it made a profit. Those who could not give up their conscience and morals were already not included, leaving those who only had loyalty to Kyle as long as they got paid.
If Kyle had his way, he would engrave all of them with a slave engraving. Despite the ultimate control that it would bring him, it would foment dissent and hatred towards him instead. He would much rather win over them through an increased standard of living, higher goods, and assured victory in nearly every battle.
The lives of the recruited soldiers under Kyle were far better than what they had before. Many were from the slums of Desham, while others came from war-ravaged towns and villages. All who join shared a common trait: they had a desire to be stronger or richer. And Kyle promised to deliver both.
The steel factory of Desham churned and produced armour plates and parts for the stealth hovercraft over time, slowly increasing their fleet. Kyle now even had a heavy variant of the hovercraft, which was powered by five arcia crystals, serving as a dropship for troops.
Rifles and swords were the main weapons, along with a few grenades and explosives for harder targets. Each squad had a communication pack and a machine gunner. No one in the force could fire a machine gun like Kyle could without an arcia fuel pack, so each squad had multiple fuel packs as well.
Much of the equipment was partly thanks to Count Leon’s supply convoys as well as the Versian military convoys, allowing them to leech off the military equipment without having to pay. On top of that, they had more than enough food and water collected from the surrounding villages which traded for other supplies. Kyle now had a stockpile of resources, enough to fuel both Count Leon’s troops and his.
With this, Kyle had assembled a small brigade of two thousand five hundred soldiers, with another hundred acting as logistical support and observation. This would serve as Kyle’s power base, a far stronger force than anything he had assembled in the Yual Dominion.
“So we’re going to airdrop everyone into Tenar?” Feldon asked in a meeting, where Kyle explained the plan step-by-step.
“Not yet. We’ll send a strike force in first to figure out the situation on the ground. If Dekar and the others are still within Tenar, then that will make the entire plan easier – but it’s not a prerequisite.”
He didn’t need the former rebellious forces that he had developed: his brigade would simply have to focus on the governmental buildings, targeting all the critical infrastructure to overthrow the government.
“Are we really going to let Count Leon take over Versia and end the war?” Hayden glared. “I didn’t sign up to betray my country to you, Yual dogs. If this is the end goal, I’m out.”
“Of course not. The war ending prematurely does not benefit me in any way, shape or form. Once the current government of Versia has been neutralised, we will kill off Count Leon’s forces immediately. At that point, they will be overstretched, surrounded and exhausted from the week-long push towards Tenar.”
Hayden was confused for a second before realisation dawned on her face. “Then who takes over the government? None of us, not even me, have any form of legitimacy. We can’t just walk up to the podium and declare we’re the new kings of Versia? Building up popular support takes time!”
The years of revolution planning was still fresh in Hayden’s memories, having been part of the original revolutionaries group. She could not believe the timeline that Kyle was pushing for, sure that the people would begin to push back once they took over power, leading to further instability post-coup.
“Then the solution is simple. We find someone with legitimacy. Tell me how President Johan looks and acts like.”
***
The city of Creuliz was calm and quiet. However, it was not because of any idyllic lifestyle or peaceful atmosphere. Instead, hundreds of soldiers marched around the streets, beating up anyone who flouted the curfew as spotlights and patrol squads swept the area at night.
[Martial Law has been declared by President Mornero. All citizens are to remain indoors until further notice. Food and water shall be delivered to your doorsteps. The military reserves a warrant to search your houses.]
Two patrolling soldiers walked down an alleyway under the night sky, searching every corner and feeling the walls for any hidden groves, trying to figure out if there was a hidden door as they slung their guns behind their backs, their boots squelching in the grime and sludge coating the floor.
“The tipoff must have been a ruse. I don’t think the rebels are hiding here.” One of the patrol soldiers muttered as he flipped over a stack of old newspapers, only to see a large rat scurry away in fear.
“Rebels? More like religious cult members if you ask me. You’ve just joined three days ago, didn’t you?”
“I know, I know. They claim that President Johan had been resurrected with the help of the Goddess Nona. Who even the fuck is that Goddess? It’s the first time I ever heard about that. To me, it’s a ploy, a narrative used by the rebels to try and garner support.”
“That’s the thing!” The soldier leaned in closer to his squad mate. “No one else believes me, but I’ve seen him.”
“You’ve seen President Johan?”
“That’s right, in the flesh! I saw him three weeks ago, when he was first reported. I was part of the squad that saw him! The military and government has been clamping down on the news.”
“Ridiculous. We all know President Johan is dead. There was a funeral and everything!”
“But what if the body in the coffin was fake? A double?”
“You’re talking about somebody coming back to life. That’s just stupid.”
“No, you fucking idiot. What if he never died in the first place but was only being exiled or pushed aside by the current government?”
The soldier paused as he contemplated it. “That sounds like a full-blown conspiracy. Are you sure you haven’t been huffing Euria?”
“Listen, right? The best way to determine what’s going on is – who benefits the most from it. Do you really think the vice president was all ‘oh my president died, guess it’s my lucky day’. And suddenly he takes over the government in one fell swoop, implement sweeping changes.”
“We’re at war, idiot. If he didn’t do the sweeping changes, we’ve would have capitulated by now.”
“But it’s the speed and reaction of it. It was as though they were already waiting, knowing that anytime now, President Johan was going to kick the bucket. But why? The guy was barely forty years old.”
“Okay, now you sound more and more like a crazy conspiracy theorist. Is this why the others laughed at me for getting paired up with you?”
“Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when shit hits the fan.”
Suddenly, a violent gust of wind blasted past them followed by a thud, with the two soldiers immediately hoisting their guns to eye level, scanning the alleyway. “What in the world… did you hear that?”
“Yea, what the hell? Sounded like something metal landing from high above the ground. I’ll radio in for backup.”
“Don’t, idiot. The last time I got spooked by a rat, I was ridiculed for days.”
“But what if it was really a person? Shouldn’t we report everything suspicious?”
“Only if we can confirm that it was a person. Where did you hear the sound come from?”
“That way.”
The two soldiers warily checked the alleyway one more time, before a young man hiding in cover suddenly lunged out at them in a frenzy, attempting to stab with a short makeshift knife. “For Nona!”
The first soldier reacted instantly, shooting the young man in the leg while dodging the incoming strike. “Shit, its one of the cult members!”
“Rebel, idiot. Restrain him, quickly!”
They arrested him on the spot, tying up with metal handcuffs, though the two soldiers both felt a bit uneasy.
“You know, I swore the sound was metallic. There’s no way this dude managed to make such a loud sound.”
“Maybe it was a luring sound of sorts.”
“Then where did it come from?”
They continued searching, leaving the young man on the ground temporarily. It wasn’t until they reached the middle of the alleyway that they saw a distinct footprint on the floor, clearly human-made.
“Now, can I radio in for backup?”
“Wait, look at the footprint. There’s only two, and there’s no trail. Where the hell did the guy go?”
Suddenly, a human shadow landed right next to the soldiers, grappling and twisting the neck of the first soldier immediately.
MG404: [System Message | Killed: [Creuliz Patrol Guard] | +50 EXP]
“Wha-“ Before the second soldier could cry for help, Kyle was already lunging right for him, cutting off his windpipe with a heavy punch, followed by a snapping of the neck.
Let’s find out who this President Johan is. Kyle was wearing a lighter version of his arctech armour, as the heavy armour was not good for sneaking around in a heavily militarised city.
He freed the young man, who immediately scampered away, running far into the distance. "Observers, keep track on him. Let him lead right back."
[Got it, Boss.] The observers on a stealth hovercraft flew high, peering down with a telescope and trailing the young man.
The young man heaved and panted, covered in grime as he ran through a series of urban blocks, before making a sudden sharp turn and frantically rushing down a flight of stairs towards the basement of a building.
Running up to a old rusted metal door, he slammed the knocker three times hard in a hectic fashion. The sliding peephole in the door opened with a clang, as a pair of eyes glared at the young man.
"Were you followed? And what the fuck happened to you?"
"I don't know, I almost died! Let me in!"
"Fucking hell." The metal door swung open, revealing a burly man, acting as a bouncer as he held a tight grip on a rifle. He peered around the corner of the doorway, looking for any signs of someone following. "Get in, quick."
As the door slammed in behind them, the bouncer groaned: "What the hell were you thinking, getting caught out there like that. Did you at least get it?"
"I got it, I got it." The young man grinned as he pulled out an arctech radio, stolen from the military.
"Well done, this should help us evade the patrols with ease. Get this to Johan."
The young man walked through the small basement base, which was occupied by a few dozen rebels. Many of them were remnants of the purge from Tenar, having escaped through the catacombs. Some of them still suffered from lingering effects of Agent Black, having their limbs cauterized or decaying slowly, skin peeling off as they tried to relax on makeshift beds out of dirty clothes.
A few members ran about, helping the sick and the wounded, while others loaded magazines and made pellets from scrap metal, the burning furnace's heat obvious. In other rooms, leaders were planning out the next move, targeting specific locations in the city to control.
"President Johan!" The young man called out as he entered a small head office.
"I'm not President any longer, boy." A middle-aged gentleman spoke calmly, as he sat up straighter from his office chair, putting down the newspaper that he had just been reading. "What happened? Has Dekar returned?"
"Not yet, but I got something even better." The young man placed the military arctech radio on the table. "This has full connection to the encrypted communication lines. It matches all their engravings."
"Brilliant work, boy." Johan nodded, but soon furrowed his brows, looking at the grime and the clear handcuff marks on the man's wrist. "How did you get away from the soldiers?"
"That's the thing - there was a random armored person who was attacking the soldiers as well! He's the one that saved me."
Johan's eyes squinted, but he immediately rang up the bouncer. "I'm assuming there's an armored person at the door."
"... Yes sir, how did you know?"
"The boy was tracked. What does he want?"
"Says he wants to meet you, face to face. Claims to be from Desham."
Desham? The town that fended off the Versian Military? Johan was intrigued. He himself was already planning to contact Desham, in the hopes of gaining support for his own movement. But for them to come and contact him first...
"Let him in. Let's see what he has to say."
The underground tunnel base of Desham was in a frenzy, with recruits gearing up and stocking up the stealth hovercrafts and mineral ants, preparing for the upcoming mission.
“Gas masks! Make sure you have your gas masks! Don’t forget your drills!” Feldon bellowed as he oversaw the movement, with the irregular military force now being reorganised into their various squads and platoons, becoming something akin to a private military company.
Many of them had been training since a month ago, ever since the revolution in Desham. Others were fairly new, having only joined more than two weeks ago as refugees. All of them knew exactly what they were signing up for: mercenaries for hire—a private fighting force led by Kyle.
Kyle did not hide anything from them regarding what they intended to do: they would fight anyone and everyone but themselves as long as it made a profit. Those who could not give up their conscience and morals were already not included, leaving those who only had loyalty to Kyle as long as they got paid.
If Kyle had his way, he would engrave all of them with a slave engraving. Despite the ultimate control that it would bring him, it would foment dissent and hatred towards him instead. He would much rather win over them through an increased standard of living, higher goods, and assured victory in nearly every battle.
The lives of the recruited soldiers under Kyle were far better than what they had before. Many were from the slums of Desham, while others came from war-ravaged towns and villages. All who join shared a common trait: they had a desire to be stronger or richer. And Kyle promised to deliver both.
The steel factory of Desham churned and produced armour plates and parts for the stealth hovercraft over time, slowly increasing their fleet. Kyle now even had a heavy variant of the hovercraft, which was powered by five arcia crystals, serving as a dropship for troops.
Rifles and swords were the main weapons, along with a few grenades and explosives for harder targets. Each squad had a communication pack and a machine gunner. No one in the force could fire a machine gun like Kyle could without an arcia fuel pack, so each squad had multiple fuel packs as well.
Much of the equipment was partly thanks to Count Leon’s supply convoys as well as the Versian military convoys, allowing them to leech off the military equipment without having to pay. On top of that, they had more than enough food and water collected from the surrounding villages which traded for other supplies. Kyle now had a stockpile of resources, enough to fuel both Count Leon’s troops and his.
With this, Kyle had assembled a small brigade of two thousand five hundred soldiers, with another hundred acting as logistical support and observation. This would serve as Kyle’s power base, a far stronger force than anything he had assembled in the Yual Dominion.
“So we’re going to airdrop everyone into Tenar?” Feldon asked in a meeting, where Kyle explained the plan step-by-step.
“Not yet. We’ll send a strike force in first to figure out the situation on the ground. If Dekar and the others are still within Tenar, then that will make the entire plan easier – but it’s not a prerequisite.”
He didn’t need the former rebellious forces that he had developed: his brigade would simply have to focus on the governmental buildings, targeting all the critical infrastructure to overthrow the government.
“Are we really going to let Count Leon take over Versia and end the war?” Hayden glared. “I didn’t sign up to betray my country to you, Yual dogs. If this is the end goal, I’m out.”
“Of course not. The war ending prematurely does not benefit me in any way, shape or form. Once the current government of Versia has been neutralised, we will kill off Count Leon’s forces immediately. At that point, they will be overstretched, surrounded and exhausted from the week-long push towards Tenar.”
Hayden was confused for a second before realisation dawned on her face. “Then who takes over the government? None of us, not even me, have any form of legitimacy. We can’t just walk up to the podium and declare we’re the new kings of Versia? Building up popular support takes time!”
The years of revolution planning was still fresh in Hayden’s memories, having been part of the original revolutionaries group. She could not believe the timeline that Kyle was pushing for, sure that the people would begin to push back once they took over power, leading to further instability post-coup.
“Then the solution is simple. We find someone with legitimacy. Tell me how President Johan looks and acts like.”
***
The city of Creuliz was calm and quiet. However, it was not because of any idyllic lifestyle or peaceful atmosphere. Instead, hundreds of soldiers marched around the streets, beating up anyone who flouted the curfew as spotlights and patrol squads swept the area at night.
[Martial Law has been declared by President Mornero. All citizens are to remain indoors until further notice. Food and water shall be delivered to your doorsteps. The military reserves a warrant to search your houses.]
Two patrolling soldiers walked down an alleyway under the night sky, searching every corner and feeling the walls for any hidden groves, trying to figure out if there was a hidden door as they slung their guns behind their backs, their boots squelching in the grime and sludge coating the floor.
“The tipoff must have been a ruse. I don’t think the rebels are hiding here.” One of the patrol soldiers muttered as he flipped over a stack of old newspapers, only to see a large rat scurry away in fear.
“Rebels? More like religious cult members if you ask me. You’ve just joined three days ago, didn’t you?”
“I know, I know. They claim that President Johan had been resurrected with the help of the Goddess Nona. Who even the fuck is that Goddess? It’s the first time I ever heard about that. To me, it’s a ploy, a narrative used by the rebels to try and garner support.”
“That’s the thing!” The soldier leaned in closer to his squad mate. “No one else believes me, but I’ve seen him.”
“You’ve seen President Johan?”
“That’s right, in the flesh! I saw him three weeks ago, when he was first reported. I was part of the squad that saw him! The military and government has been clamping down on the news.”
“Ridiculous. We all know President Johan is dead. There was a funeral and everything!”
“But what if the body in the coffin was fake? A double?”
“You’re talking about somebody coming back to life. That’s just stupid.”
“No, you fucking idiot. What if he never died in the first place but was only being exiled or pushed aside by the current government?”
The soldier paused as he contemplated it. “That sounds like a full-blown conspiracy. Are you sure you haven’t been huffing Euria?”
“Listen, right? The best way to determine what’s going on is – who benefits the most from it. Do you really think the vice president was all ‘oh my president died, guess it’s my lucky day’. And suddenly he takes over the government in one fell swoop, implement sweeping changes.”
“We’re at war, idiot. If he didn’t do the sweeping changes, we’ve would have capitulated by now.”
“But it’s the speed and reaction of it. It was as though they were already waiting, knowing that anytime now, President Johan was going to kick the bucket. But why? The guy was barely forty years old.”
“Okay, now you sound more and more like a crazy conspiracy theorist. Is this why the others laughed at me for getting paired up with you?”
“Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when shit hits the fan.”
Suddenly, a violent gust of wind blasted past them followed by a thud, with the two soldiers immediately hoisting their guns to eye level, scanning the alleyway. “What in the world… did you hear that?”
“Yea, what the hell? Sounded like something metal landing from high above the ground. I’ll radio in for backup.”
“Don’t, idiot. The last time I got spooked by a rat, I was ridiculed for days.”
“But what if it was really a person? Shouldn’t we report everything suspicious?”
“Only if we can confirm that it was a person. Where did you hear the sound come from?”
“That way.”
The two soldiers warily checked the alleyway one more time, before a young man hiding in cover suddenly lunged out at them in a frenzy, attempting to stab with a short makeshift knife. “For Nona!”
The first soldier reacted instantly, shooting the young man in the leg while dodging the incoming strike. “Shit, its one of the cult members!”
“Rebel, idiot. Restrain him, quickly!”
They arrested him on the spot, tying up with metal handcuffs, though the two soldiers both felt a bit uneasy.
“You know, I swore the sound was metallic. There’s no way this dude managed to make such a loud sound.”
“Maybe it was a luring sound of sorts.”
“Then where did it come from?”
They continued searching, leaving the young man on the ground temporarily. It wasn’t until they reached the middle of the alleyway that they saw a distinct footprint on the floor, clearly human-made.
“Now, can I radio in for backup?”
“Wait, look at the footprint. There’s only two, and there’s no trail. Where the hell did the guy go?”
Suddenly, a human shadow landed right next to the soldiers, grappling and twisting the neck of the first soldier immediately.
MG404: [System Message | Killed: [Creuliz Patrol Guard] | +50 EXP]
“Wha-“ Before the second soldier could cry for help, Kyle was already lunging right for him, cutting off his windpipe with a heavy punch, followed by a snapping of the neck.
Let’s find out who this President Johan is. Kyle was wearing a lighter version of his arctech armour, as the heavy armour was not good for sneaking around in a heavily militarised city.
He freed the young man, who immediately scampered away, running far into the distance. "Observers, keep track on him. Let him lead right back."
[Got it, Boss.] The observers on a stealth hovercraft flew high, peering down with a telescope and trailing the young man.
The young man heaved and panted, covered in grime as he ran through a series of urban blocks, before making a sudden sharp turn and frantically rushing down a flight of stairs towards the basement of a building.
Running up to a old rusted metal door, he slammed the knocker three times hard in a hectic fashion. The sliding peephole in the door opened with a clang, as a pair of eyes glared at the young man.
"Were you followed? And what the fuck happened to you?"
"I don't know, I almost died! Let me in!"
"Fucking hell." The metal door swung open, revealing a burly man, acting as a bouncer as he held a tight grip on a rifle. He peered around the corner of the doorway, looking for any signs of someone following. "Get in, quick."
As the door slammed in behind them, the bouncer groaned: "What the hell were you thinking, getting caught out there like that. Did you at least get it?"
"I got it, I got it." The young man grinned as he pulled out an arctech radio, stolen from the military.
"Well done, this should help us evade the patrols with ease. Get this to Johan."
The young man walked through the small basement base, which was occupied by a few dozen rebels. Many of them were remnants of the purge from Tenar, having escaped through the catacombs. Some of them still suffered from lingering effects of Agent Black, having their limbs cauterized or decaying slowly, skin peeling off as they tried to relax on makeshift beds out of dirty clothes.
A few members ran about, helping the sick and the wounded, while others loaded magazines and made pellets from scrap metal, the burning furnace's heat obvious. In other rooms, leaders were planning out the next move, targeting specific locations in the city to control.
"President Johan!" The young man called out as he entered a small head office.
"I'm not President any longer, boy." A middle-aged gentleman spoke calmly, as he sat up straighter from his office chair, putting down the newspaper that he had just been reading. "What happened? Has Dekar returned?"
"Not yet, but I got something even better." The young man placed the military arctech radio on the table. "This has full connection to the encrypted communication lines. It matches all their engravings."
"Brilliant work, boy." Johan nodded, but soon furrowed his brows, looking at the grime and the clear handcuff marks on the man's wrist. "How did you get away from the soldiers?"
"That's the thing - there was a random armored person who was attacking the soldiers as well! He's the one that saved me."
Johan's eyes squinted, but he immediately rang up the bouncer. "I'm assuming there's an armored person at the door."
"... Yes sir, how did you know?"
"The boy was tracked. What does he want?"
"Says he wants to meet you, face to face. Claims to be from Desham."
Desham? The town that fended off the Versian Military? Johan was intrigued. He himself was already planning to contact Desham, in the hopes of gaining support for his own movement. But for them to come and contact him first...
"Let him in. Let's see what he has to say."
