Zero Ground 4

Blackshot walked across the street. Behind him was a meter-wide crater, his landing point that ravaged nearby buildings and hurtling vehicles to other places. He hefted his Blast Rifle, ready to lift it and take aim at any Monsters that might appear in front of him. His finger was inside the trigger-guard, ready to fire rapidly at anything. A look of determination was etched across his face.
   Sunlight bounces off from the golden pauldron, elbow and knee caps of his armor. Strangely, the heat of the sun never burns his bare face. Maybe it's because of the chilly wind that blew at him.
   "All Solo Operators," A voice called from his earpiece. "Proceed to the RV Point marked in your TacBracers." A beep was issued in his left forearm. He lifted it up and studied the map displayed on the small screen of the computer mounted inside.
    "Kill any enemies on sight."
    Without further questions, Blackshot increased his pace across the street, breaking into a jog. The RV Point was nearer than he expected. He ran across the city, seeing death and destruction at every turn. He could see violent deaths of the innocent who never deserves it in the first place, and the burning wreckage of what's left of each building establishments.
   He was greeted by an intersection. A body can be seen hanging beside a broken spotlight. For a moment, Blackshot examined the body before making a turn to the right. He sensed that somebody has been here earlier, but they were not enemies rather allies who belongs to the Remnant Order. Word has it that a Brigade from the Order of Saint Pio arrived here to extract survivors but unfortunately, there are none. But of course, that wasn't true. There are survivors hidden somewhere but help would not arrive to them because the Brigade doesn't have any capability to fight such evil. They were not trained to do so.
   As he moved further, he saw an old couple lying on the ground, their organs spilt on the pavement. To his right, a teenage boy at the same age as he was, is impaled from head to toe. This reminds him of something. Blackshot belongs to the Mark-1 Protectorates. The Marks serves as a secret caste among the Legion. Mark-1s are older than the rest, being around as early as 1960 and most of them born in 1940s. They age by a year every two decades. Judging by the year today, it was year 2022 and his age is ranging somewhere from 17 to 20, though not considered as a teenage year but he just simply doesn't know.
   Wind howls at the cold city. He saw more bodies of dead people on the sidewalks. For the first time, he felt pity for them but he shoved the feelings aside. He simply doesn't have time to feel. Time, a luxury he never have.
   In the distance, he saw a figure kneeling over a dead policeman. It or he, whatever it was, was wearing a black leather jacket. Long claws protrudes from his fingernails. His mouth was attached to the Policeman's neck.
    He wasted no time and took aim. The Vampire hasn't seen him approach but Blackshot will never give him the chance to know. He opened fire, three short bursts issued from the barrel of his rifle. Blue balls of light slammed itself at the body of the bloodsucker. It rolled across the pavement with a scorched body, dead.
   Above him, standing on a three storey building, a snarl could be heard. Another Vampire, this time a female one, showed her fangs at him; indication of hostility. She was wearing a black leather vest and a long pants. Blackshot takes aim and opened fire, four balls of light burned her. She fell with a thud, splattering down the floor. Her head was squashed open like watermelon.
   To his left, where he first saw the feeding Vampire, another one charged at him with superhuman speed. Blackshot launched the butt of his weapon at the face of the attacker. A crack could be heard as the bloodsucker takes a step backwards, jaws bent at unnatural angle.
    "Bayonet!" He yelled. A large 29" knife suddenly detracted below the muzzle of his weapon then a voice of a female replied to him.
    "Bayonet deployed." It was robotic and lifeless.
    With a diagonal swing, he slashed the chest of the Vampire. It takes a couple of steps backwards as blood sprayed at him. It fell backwards, dead.
     To his right, a brown furred being sent a kick at his chest. Black boots making contact with his chest. He glanced up and saw a dog staring back at him. It was wearing a biker's jacket and black pants. Flames danced around it. Blackshot has dropped his weapon accidentally and he failed to pick it up as the being sent a punch at him.
   "Inugami!" Blackshot yelled as he tapped the hand with his right, out of the way. With his left, he held onto its wrist and pulled it closer. He moved his right hand near his left ear, elbow pointed at the face of the Yokai, and launched it, smashing its face with his strike. He shuffled his feet as he launched his right knee upwards, straight at its chest. The powerful force has sent the Yokai backwards with a smashed face.
   Blackshot immediately grabbed his fallen rifle from the ground. As he do so, he caught sight of another Yokai, its face was green and fish-like, with gils from its forehead and eyes glowed in yellow. Its lips was thick, hands were webbed. Yet, it was wearing a Human's clothes.
   Lifting his weapon, he fired five shots in despair as adrenaline surged through him. The Ningyo takes a step backwards as balls of plasma burned its chest. He turned to the right and saw the injured Inugami rose from its feet. He fired at it, burning it with a trio of plasma shots.
    He stood still as he listened for more Monsters that might attack him. Seeing none, he continued forward.

The RV Point was just in front of him. He was glad that he encountered no Monsters on his way there. The previous encounter was already violent; he wasn't expecting more bloodshed.
   But who he was kidding? This place is invaded by Demons.
    In front of him, standing in the RV Point itself were a duo of Insurgents chatting at one another. They were unaware of the presence of the Protectorate. Lifting his rifle at shoulder length, he takes a couple of deep breaths before taking shots. Each plasma rounds hit the spine of the Insurgents squarely,  burning  the muscles in their backs and penetrating in their spinal cords.

Jeth walked silently across the road. His mind drifted across flood of thoughts, trying to remember what his life had been before all this.
   The same age as Blackshot, he was, unlike him, not orphaned. He has a family, living in the plains of 1950's Calamba. He remembered something, a girl in the same age as he. They were friends, too close to be friends, actually. But they were not lovers, though they were mistaken as one. He remembers going to the stalks, plowing and sowing, with her approaching and wiping his sweat away with that scented towel she always use. Their fathers were closest friends with one another and it pretty much explains why their children have the same relationship with each other.
   Everything is going perfectly well. In fact, the girl, whatever her name was, he forgot buried in decades of chaotic memories, was betrothed to him. Then the fire came.
    He remembers clearly the huge flame that burned the fields and claimed many lives including his father and mother. He remembers not if the fire had also claimed his friend. All he remembers was the next morning that came, it was cold. Colder than the wind blowing in his face in the present time. He knelt in ashen fields. He was alone, weeping for the people lost. Then he remembers one thing that leads to his conscription to the Protectorate Legion.
   "Come with me," The voice of the Archangel Michael was as clear as a pinprick dropping in a quiet room. "You will find peace in all of this."
   One thing led to another, and he found himself armored with the Battle Gear that protected him for years of battle.
   "PROTECTORATE!!" A growling voice yelled across the empty street.
   Looking up, he saw a skeleton covered in plates of armor. Every movement he made was a screeching noise that came from his armor; stressed metal screaming in protest. On either side of him were two Shadowhelm Demons and in front was a trio of Black Marionettes.
   "Christmas is coming too early." Jeth murmured as he charged forward, Blast Rifle aimed directly at a Black Marionette in the middle. He opened fire, three balls of plasma splashing against the chest of the Demon. It let out a blood curdling cry as it rolled backwards to pavement.
   His aim jumped to the second one. His finger squeezed rapidly, his rifle cried as it released a trio of plasmas that blasted the Marionette's face, scorching it into nothing but a combination of broken porcelain, burnt flesh and dried blood. He aimed at the last one, who was too near to be fired at. He launched the stock of his rifle at the face of the Demon then nudged its ribcage with the butt of the rifle, taking it down. Pinning an armored boot on its chest, he aimed at the face of the Black Marionette at pointblank range and fired twice. The Demon's body twitched before slumping dead.
   He watched as the first Shadowhelm drew to a close. Its sword drawn, ready to be swung. Darkness also emanates from it like how it envelopes its armor. It charged with long strides, closing its distance between them quickly. He fired three shots but the Demon skillfully deflected them with the swing of its sword. Cursing, Jeth drew his scimitar attached magnetically from his back and struck downwards. The Demon blocked it, raising his blade horizontally. He gripped the enemy's hilt tight as he moved it out of the way. The Demon expects him to strike from above again as he raised his other arm to protect him but Jeth, instead, brought his blade downwards and ran it parallel at the Demon's stomach, gutting him with a slice of his blade. He disarmed the enemy as he slammed his wrist at the wrist of the enemy. The Demon lost his grip to his weapon. Jeth tripped him to the ground. It helplessly slumped forward as its spirit slowly rises from its gaping wound just below the chestplate. It escaped from its vessel as it do so.
   The second Shadowhelm charged at him. It swings at his left temple, which he immediately deflects. Both combatants withdrew but the Demon made the second move, aiming for his right leg which he deflected again. The Demon let out a grunt of desperation and annoyance as it raised its weapon and aimed for his right temple. Jeth stepped forward, grabbing the Demon's forearm, pulling him close. He slammed the hilt of his sword at the right temple of the enemy then with a quick movement downward, tucking the Demon's forearm under his armpit, he locked the hilt of their swords. It makes it impossible for the Demon to escape unless he released his weapon and let Jeth take it; a risk you wouldn't want to gamble when facing a Protectorate. Without other choice, the Demon cocks back for a punch. Jeth's other hand slid from the forearm to the hilt of the opponent's blade then with a quick pull, he disarmed the enemy. He gripped the demonized weapon with the tip pointing down. He aimed it at the chest of the Demon and thrusts, followed by a strike to head that split its helmet apart. Black smoke rises from its open wound. He let the Demon fall with its own blade still stuck on its chest.
   From there, he saw the Hellfire Marine howling in anger. It charged forward, shaking the ground with every step. Jeth slid his weapon behind him and then reached for his Blast Rifle. He glanced to the left, looking for a chance to escape, when he sees it; a Human. One of the survivors at least. He tore his gaze from the survivor. They were not first priority but he can deal with them later. He sprinted forward, aiming his Blast Rifle and squeezing trigger. The first shot washed the surface of the Demon's armor. It sizzled at first but the plasma was slowly extinguished. It only leaves him to fire at one thing; its head.
   Aiming upwards, he fired relentlessly at its transparent visor. The Hellfire takes a step back as the plasma bubbled on the surface of his visor. Heat was emanating to its skeletal face. It raised its weapon blindly and fired. Jeth immediately rolled to the left as the bone rattling sound of the weapon echoed across the empty streets. He watched as the burning ammunition slammed against an idle vehicle behind him, exploding and showering blazing debris and ordnance around. He glanced at the Demon and took aim once more and fired at the same spot relentlessly. Visor slowly deformed as heat eats the transparent surface. It shatters, exposing the face of its wearer.
   With a quick movement forward, the Hellfire Marine aimed and fired. Jeth rolled to the right. He retaliated as he glanced to the right and telepathically lifted a car and sent it across the street. It smashed the Marine, stumbling back as it tried to remove the car lodged onto its chest. Jeth did not wait any further as he took aim and fired at the car's gas tank located just below the vehicle. It took no more than three shots as the car was set ablaze and exploded in a heap of burning twisted metals and shattered glasses.
   He watched the burning wreckage and felt satisfaction in the very first phase of this battle. He tore his gaze away and back to the spot where he spotted a Human. By the looks of it, he or they were hiding inside a ruined storefront. He walked towards it and was greeted with a view of a shelter haphazardly constructed with woods being nailed into concrete walls and plywoods fastened to metal bars with a steel wire. He ignored it as he carelessly walked inside.
   He caught movement to his left and with a raise of his free hand, he stopped a stick from hitting or gashing his face. He thrusts his palm forward and shortly, he brought a woman of no more than twenty to her knees.
   "State your name, Civilian." Jeth says mechanically as he stared at her. She was clutching her guts while vomiting her breakfast. Perhaps his thrust was too strong and he almost forgot that he was an enhanced Human, rather than a regular one. They cannot surpass their strength much less their pain tolerance.
   From the distance, he heard snickering. He glanced at the direction and saw people, lots of them. An old couple, three children whose age Jeth estimated would somewhere be twelve or eleven, and a disabled guy in his thirty. Somewhere near were a trio of girls just the same age as he was and a boy at their same age.
   He let out a sigh as his hand flew to the earpiece attached to his left ear.
    "Protectorate Jeth reporting in,"
    "Brother Jeth," A voice came over the comms. "How many times do we have to tell you that you use your armor designation when using the comms? Yes we get your name is Jeth and you like using it and we respect that. But just for once, mate. Please."
   With a dismissive grunt, he repeated again. "Tier-5 Tribune Commander Protectorate Phoenix, reporting in."
   "Go ahead, Phoenix."
   "Multiple civilians spotted. What do I with them?"
   "Leave them. Your priorities are clear; eliminate enemy presence in the city. Nothing more, nothing less."
    "But I cannot leave them here! They are vulnerable to--"
    "Brother, get on with your objective. You can deal with them later. Besides they were under the jurisdiction of the Order of Saint Pio. Your mission is elimination, not rescue."
     With a long pause, he finally says, "Affirmative." But that doesn't mean he's gonna follow them.
     Looking at the downed woman, he grabbed her by the arm and touched her aching stomach. Her intestines were crushed by his attack. He healed her; intestines inflating as soon as light passes from his hand and through it.
    "Listen up," he said. "Stay inside here and barricade yourselves. There's something I'll do first but I will return here with help. I promise." He said as he ran back to the road he was heading.
    He sprinted, accelerating in long strides before finally stopping to greet his brother standing on the RV Point. A pair of Insurgents laid beneath his feet.
   "What's the hold up?" Blackshot asked.
   "Just ran with a group of Humans. I was thinking--"
   "We finish the fight first before we do any rescuing." He concluded the conversation as he glanced away.

JJ sprinted across the rubbles and dirty streets. Eyes darting from left to right, looking for any signs of trouble. He hefted his Blast Rifle, which was too big for his small frame but he managed to lift it up effortlessly and fire it if needed to. Under heavy breaths, he prayed silently as he made his way to the RV Point.
   Just as he was about to finish his prayer, a motion to the left caught his attention. He whirled with his weapon raised. Every single time he do that, his weapon automatically raised in alert. It was an instinct programmed to them in the training grounds. Nothing beats caution in the field of the battle and JJ knew that.
   "Show yourself!" JJ yelled as he slowly stepped towards an empty dark alley surrounded by shadows. He couldn't see through it but he was sure something was out there.
    A movement, JJ thought. He was ready to fire at whatever comes out of it. He held his breath, readying himself for the combat that this situation would bring.
    Just as he was about to fire, the face of JP came to view. Orange armor trimmed in blue, his rifle was resting on his shoulder while his hand gripping the weapon's handle tightly.
    "Good to see you, brother." He greeted.
    "Good to see you. Where are the others?" JJ asked as he lowered his weapon.
    "Not sure, but I guess all of them were heading for the RV Point."
    JJ nodded as he started to walk. His armor was midnight black but the verdant green trim of his armor, including the knee, shoulder and elbow caps was bright. They walked silently together, before JP broke the silence.
    "One of our brothers found survivors."
    "Yeah," JJ replied as they walked passed a burning car. "What happened to them?"
    "Jeth? No I don't know what he did to them but I don't care. I just want to finish the Demons."
    Sensing that the conversation was heading nowhere, they fell silent once more. JJ was about to ask another question when an explosion erupted far ahead followed by screams and gunfire. The two glanced at one another before charging straight into the battle zone.

Jemwolf took a step back as he raised his rifle at a Vampire in pointblank range and opened fire. Blood sputtered everywhere as the bloodsucker takes a step back and fell backwards. He whirled to the left and launched the butt of his rifle at an approaching Ningyo, dark blood streamed out of its nose. Jemwolf aimed his left hand at the chest of the Yokai and blasted it away with a fireball. He whirled to the left once more and planted a knee to the ground as he opened fire at a Black Marionette, destroying its chest with scorching plasma balls. His aim jumped to the next one; a screaming Shadowhelm with a raised broadsword. He knew that the Demon would simply deflect his attack but shooting its knees would help him neutralize his target. With a couple of bursts in each kneecaps, the Demon fell to the ground, sword clattering across the road. He fired once at its facepalm, and it laid motionless. He was about to shoot at the next Shadowhelm when a gigantic rifle stock descend upon him. Jemwolf rolled backwards and glanced up. He came face to face with a Hellfire Marine; its blood red armor was a sore to the sight but he cares not as he detached a small circular silver metal from his belt and ran his finger across the vertical slot. The grenade was primed to explode after it was thrown and attached to something. He pivoted and whirled it at the visored face of the Marine. The grenade beeped rapidly before exploding. Shattered glasses and burning blood rained everywhere. He raised his rifle and opened fire at the skeletal face of the Marine. It fell backwards in a heap; Jemwolf pried the rifle from its cold, metal fingers. He raised it at the second Hellfire and opened fire; recoil rattling every single bone in his body. The shot ravaged the armor chest of the Marine. Another pull of a trigger killed the Marine with blood and organs spilling out of its open chest. Jemwolf aimed at the third one and targeted the face of the Hellfire Marine. One tap had shattered the visor of the wearer and the other, decapitated its head. Hearing a roar from behind, Jemwolf turned, only to see a Shadowhelm leaping towards him. He ended it with a shot; burning metal rained over him.
   Jemwolf's fight wasn't over yet as he took aim at an oncoming Vampire. He opened fire; half of the Vampire disintegrated from the blow. He whirled to the right and opened fire at a Bakeneko. Ironically, its companion was taken along with it. Ahead of them, a group of five Black Marionettes were charging at him. Jemwolf emptied his clip at them until the rifle only replied with a dry click.
   Jemwolf detected a duo of movement behind him. He raised his Blast Rifle at the visitors, only to see a duo of Protectorates rushing to him with weapons hefted.
   "You're just in time, brothers." Jemwolf says with a smile. "Welcome to the fight."
   "Confessor," JP says as he gripped his weapon tight. "What are your orders?"
   "We need to get to the RV Point intact and without missing a limb. Well that was physically impossible but who knows." Jemwolf says as he began moving. "Follow me."
   The three sprinted across the road with more enemies charging towards them. Jemwolf barked another reminder, rather than an instruction.
    "Aim for the head." Jemwolf says as he pointed at heavily armored skeletons.
    "Hey, I've encountered those except they were in black armor." JP says again.
    "Must be from another Legion." JJ replied.
   A trio of Hellfire Marines stopped to form a defensive line. They aimed their weapons, emitting steaming sounds and metal clicks. Jemwolf raised his aim and waited no longer as he opened fire, plasma balls splashed itself across the clear visor of the Demon. It took a step backwards, along with its brethren when the plasmas of the other Protectorates reached it.
   Simultaneously, they fired back. Jemwolf rolled away and watched as the scorching round almost hit him. The others did the same, narrowly dodging enemy fire. Had the wet plasma failed to obscure their sight, that would have been a bullseye to their chests.
   "Resume fire!" Jemwolf ordered as he strafed forward with plasma shots hitting the same spot. It took only a couple of minutes before the transparent visor gave in and shattered to millions of pieces. He fired four more shots, burning the skull of the Demon.
   JJ yelled as he squeezed the trigger. Streams of plasma splashed across the Marine's visor. He watched as it shatters; followed by a shrieking scream when the plasma made its way to the face of the skeleton.
   JP sent a streak of lightning at its face. Shattered glass fell from its face while he kept his finger pressed on the trigger.
    When the Demons fell, Jemwolf was the first to grab the weapon from their fallen owners.
    "Grab their weapons. But do not use it in combat unless we face one of these idiots again." The Confessor reminded as he watched his subordinates helped themselves.