originally posted in:The Ashen Conflux
Chapter I: Rise
“Eyes up, Guardian!”
“Ugh… Where..? Let me get my bearings.”
I'm in a desolate land… Ukraine, I believe. Sandy shore, turned to glass in places. Bodies littered the road behind me, as I look down at my own self.
Blood, fresh, covered my clothes. Bullet holes around me hinted towards the cause of my death. I hold in my hand naught but scrap metal, remnants of an old revolver, lost to the ages. The civilians I was escorting to safety… dead, all behind me. Assholes didn't have the common decency to bury them.
“Where are they?”
“There.” The Ghost looks towards the coast. Chernobyl.
“They have Weapons, Vehicles, those bandits could kill us easily.”
“Yeah, but how’d you survive?”
“I hid under your body.”
“Right..”
My Ghost was always a survivor. Didn't think about desecrating the dead or anything. Just needed to stay alive to keep me fighting. Thank god.
He found me shortly after I died. A hail of bullets, just like this. From the same people, but different victims.
My Daughter, and my Wife. We were cut down by gunfire on the other end of the border, in Russia. This time, I am ready.
“You got the thing?”
“I have it ready for transmat.”
“Do it.”
Ghost glowed bright with a cyan glow, and constructed some kind of digital image, then deployed it as a physical object, being a Speedboat.
This would take me to my murderers, and, perhaps, my death.
I just need fuel for the engine. Heard a while back that there was a Fallen outpost nearby, lucky me. Maybe they’d have some fuel…
Along the way, I find a van stocked with weaponry, Early Golden Age. Ballistic vests, Riot shields, the lot. I take two High-Impact slug Shotguns, a couple of bandoliers full of shells, and a 40mm Grenade launcher. May come in handy. Seems that these guys were heading to some kind of emergency back in the day. Guess the caller never got their help.
I'm moving on now, seeing the camp. Couple of patrols, which is pretty damn surprising.
I’m walking up to the entrance, hand to my back, to where I'm packing my heat.
I then strike, my fist full of dark energy, throwing the doors open and breaking the helmet of some dreg.
I fire, a miss, hits an ether tank, good in the long run.
They are still surprised, reaching for their guns.
I duck down near some barrels, empty, and survey the situation:
Captains: 2
Servitors: 1
Vandals: 5
Dregs: 6 (-1 for the one I knocked out earlier)
I wait for three seconds, then jump into the air, and feel my fist connecting with the jaw of a captain. Another punch kills it, and I get shielded. Captain with swords charges me, but misses, cutting the Servitor behind me in half.
Captain trips on Captain corpse, falls and breaks neck. Dregs rush with their knives drawn. Shotguns comes out, and they go down with a couple of shots.
I grab the fuel container, check inside. Fuel is a go. We’re candy.
Leaving the Vandals alone, they can start their own thing again, and I can raid their loot again. Kind of a Win for us all.
I wipe the sweat from my brow. That was harder than usual. Other Fallen Camps weren't that Secure. Doesn't matter, because either way, I still have my fuel.
“Ghost, how far away is the city?”
“10 miles. Get your mask on, the radiation has receded, but it's still harmful.”
I place the protective hood over my head, and press the mask up to my face, securing it in place. I fixed a banner of the Fallen I raided earlier upon my back, seems to belong to a “House of Devils”. Could provide some camouflage, sure.
“Alright you sons of bitches, I'm coming for you.”
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Edited by CommisarScar: 1/22/2017 10:25:24 PMBippity boppity bump!
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