Spartan Brigade 1

The recruits were led into their own barracks where their standard uniforms and battle clothings were distributed. Vincent received his own uniform and wore it when they were ordered to do so. They filed out into the courtyard for the second time and were sorted out by various drill instructors into their respective platoons. There are three platoons that made up the Spartan Brigade.

The first is the Dagger Platoon, specialized in corridor-to-corridor combat and acted as the Brigade' Special Ops division that undertake operations like assassination, personnel retrieval and other covert missions.

The second was the Shield Platoon, specialized in territorial fortification and area denial assaults. Out of the three Platoons, they rely heavily on armored mechanized infantry like mechs and tanks. If the Brigade has to fight a battle of attrition, they are the ones to call.

The third, however, was expected to sustain high casualty rates. They are the ones who will do the main fighting. The Platoon made up the backbone of the Brigade; the Sword Platoon. Specialized in both ground and naval assaults, they were the main body of the Brigade.

And Vincent was one of them.

"Private James N. Vincent!" A voice yelled.

Snapping into attention, Vincent approached the drill instructor calling him. He was given a patch that denotes his Platoon and his blood type. He attached it on his left shoulder pad and followed the rest of his Platoon to the Mess Hall.

The Mess Hall. The whitewashed walls were stained by grease from cooking oil and other stains that may have originated from something else. Rumor has it that Fort Mattis was subjected to constant attacks from various Demon Legions.

The heavy fighting took place in here, where Vincent currently stands.

He followed the line and took a tray just like the rest of the other recruits. The cook silently served them mashed potatoes, dried stakes, stale fries and some vegetables. After his turn, he absent-mindedly walked into a direction and accidentally bumped someone.

"Sorry." Vincent apologized.

"Watch it--oh, you're from Sword Platoon?" The kid was taller than him. He wore a glass over his round eyes, his hair was curly and by the looks of it, two years older than him.

"Well yeah." Vincent said apologetically. "I see we're on the same Platoon."

"You should join us." He walked away from Vincent, who followed him. "Oh by the way, my name is Tyson Grajeda. What's yours?"

"James, James Vincent."

They sat down on the table occupied by three more recruits.

"Vincent, meet Ghost, Emily and Miranda." Grajeda introduced. He turned to his mates and said, "His name is Vincent."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Vincent." Ghost said.

"Nice to meet you, buddy." Emily greeted.

Miranda simply nodded.

"So, let's dig in, shall we?" Grajeda said as he sat opposite of Vincent and began shoving the mashed potato onto his mouth.

"Make way, for The Enochian Guardsman!" A mechanized voice yelled at the direction of the entrance.

All heads turned to see a midnight clad Protectorate entered the Mess Hall, flanked by two more in gray and white armors. They were a frightening sight. Legends shrouded this warriors, each bearing stories of their victory and heroic deeds. They were like the mythologies of the old, the difference, however, was that they slew the characters of those mythologies from Gods to the very monsters themselves.

For the majority of the Humans, they were more than Legends, but Angels.

To Vincent, they were Omens, heralds of death itself.

The recruits made way for the trio of warriors. Every step they made shook the Mess Hall. Vincent swore that the figure in black armor turned to look at him. His faceplate makes him think that the warrior within glares at him. He sees an inscription below the insignia of his Regiment.

"Vengeance." He quietly muttered.

The headgear of the Protectorate parted, only to reveal a woman inside. Vincent was partly shocked. Everyone in the Regiment rarely revealed their faces and you'd have no idea that some of them were females.

They walked past the Mess Hall towards the double doors on the other side where they disappeared.

"That was badass!" Grajeda yelled in glee.

"Seems like the Prots had completely occupied Washington. They never left." Emily said. "The state must be valuable to them."

"They were protecting the Vicariate. None of them give a crap about us." Miranda interjected. "Washington was the only state that wasn't controlled by the Remnants. Prior to the arrival of the Vicar, no one defended the state but the now-decimated National Guard." She added.

"Most importantly, they were here to help." Ghost said. "That's all that matters."

"We'll see." Grajeda replied.