by Max Barry

Latest Forum Topics

Advertisement

Search

Search

[+] Advanced...

Author:

Region:

Sort:

«12. . .334335336337

AN UNSUNG WAR:PART 3

Unmasked.

Ocketburst.

The Colonel climbed over the Destroyed Car and onto the Freezing Concrete, Smoke Billowed from the Towns Centre and he guessed Artillery was working its way deep into Eskovarian Lines. His theory was confirmed when he saw a Flash and Explosion smash through a nearby Coffee shop.

He took shelter in an abandoned office building, it seems the civilians had luckily evacuated to a more secure location, and given the brief occupation of Kaffin ended in the deaths of Thousands that was for the best. He hid in a small room with a painting of a mountain behind it, cowering behind the desk as Tanks rolled down the streets, he heard the echoes of Gunfire as Eskovarian and Hunter forces clashed in the streets nearby, explosions occasionally echoing throughout the town.

He quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, luckily it was waterproof and still worked. He quickly called the General's Number and was relieved when he picked up the phone.

“Colonel?” The General asked, “You’ve been MIA For the past half hour and Eskovarian Forces are falling back across the front, what happened?”

“The Enemy overwhelmed us with superior firepower and what appears to be more advanced weaponry in a quick attack, our forces stood no chance.” The Colonel reported.

“The Hunters appear to be equipped with Very Advanced vehicles, reports of powerful artillery mixed with an unknown model of tanks are coming out of the frontlines as we speak, and I doubt we can hold another day.” The Colonel finished.

“Dear Lord help us.” The General said.

An Explosion echoed through the town, and the colonel remembered how close the enemy was.

“I Must go now, I will try to call you back later.” He said, and the Colonel hung up and bolted through the door to hopefully reach friendly frontlines

BBG-29, E.M.S ‘Thunderchild’, 46 Miles from Craitoria.

The Thunderchild wasn’t alone in her Venture, the Warship had an escort fleet and it was unlikely they would she would ever sail without one. However, almost all of the escort fleet was racing ahead. Thunderchild wasn’t slow, able to make about 32 knots or even 33 knots in good conditions, but the Destroyers and Light Cruisers of the Eskovarian navy were able to make up to 39 knots typically, and were miles ahead. She wouldn’t be able to catch up to them before they got into Gun Range, Missiles…functioned horribly in this windy and freezing weather, Despite Eskovars northern Location missiles simply weren’t built for these conditions

The Only ships near her were the Sandstorm class Destroyers, which were designed for Stealth instead of speed with their shaped hulls giving her the radar cross section of a fishing boat. The Captain had a coat on, as did everyone. As she sailed north the Air seemed to grow colder by the minute, which never was a good thing unless you were in a desert, which would be refreshing he imagined. The Only desert in Eskovar was on the main island, in the center, and it was less of a desert and more of a grassland, but its the closest they had.

“Captain, we are approaching Craitoria, estimating 45 Miles away, other escort ships are around 30 to the coastline.” The Executive officer said, the captain nodded.

“We estimate we will reach the port of Maltae in 6 hours, that's where the enemy fleet seems to have set up a blockade.” The XO told him.

“Good, how much strength does the enemy fleet have?” The Captain asked.

“It's hard to tell, based on information they seem to have mostly smaller vessels, a significant invasion force is already present on the island however.” The XO told him.

“Juicier targets for our guns.” The Captain said, resisting the unprofessional urge to laugh as he stared out at the battleship's massive guns.

“Problem is, the amount of ships…”

Eskovarian Capital of Oured

Oured was an old city turned new. In the 1890s a massive fire ravaged the city, meaning it had to be rebuilt. Rebirth, so they called it, was inevitable in Eskovaran Culture. The Concept of rebirth was that something dead would come back to life. It was not an unknown concept, Rebirth existed in more than one culture. Oured was the city of Rebirth, the proof of concept if you will.

Eskovar had many gods and Demons, Heroes and Villains in its culture and mythologies, and the Demon lord of the Nation was Jormungandr. The World Serpent. Said to wrap around Gojira, the Monster Hero and absorb his life, using it to annihilate the world. There were lots of movies, books and even video games made about the subject. Entire franchises based around the 2 Giant Titans battling. It was an old story, reborn for the modern era.

Now, Eskovar was being suffocated by an enemy that didn’t want to conquer them, but just straight up wanted them gone.

Yet the time when one is in most danger, may be the time in which they are the most dangerous

Does anyone want to change cards

The Return to Iris

After their harrowing journey through the frozen Arctic, James R. Kennedy and his exploration team finally sighted the familiar shores of Iris. The team, weary but unbroken, had endured the unforgiving cold, navigated treacherous ice fields, and now, the sight of home brought tears to many eyes. They had been tested beyond their limits, surviving with the knowledge that their discoveries could change the understanding of the Arctic forever.

As their ship, the Iris Endeavour, made its way into the port, the people of Iris gathered in droves, their faces a mix of worry and excitement. News of the team's prolonged silence had reached home, sparking fears for their safety. But now, as the ship docked, cheers and cries of relief filled the air. Families reunited in emotional embraces, while onlookers celebrated the return of their national heroes.

James R. Kennedy, stepping onto the Iris soil for the first time in months, felt a surge of pride. His team had not only survived but had also collected invaluable data and samples that promised to advance the scientific community's understanding of the Arctic's environmental and climatic patterns. Yet, as he looked around at the faces of his fellow Irisians, he knew that the most significant discovery was the resilience and unity of his team and the unwavering support of their nation.

In the days that followed, James and his team were invited to the Royal Palace, where King James I himself commended their bravery and contribution to science. The King, known for his interest in environmental conservation, listened intently as James recounted their experiences, the challenges they faced, and the implications of their findings for global climate research.

The celebration of their return extended beyond the palace, as schools, universities, and scientific institutions invited James and his team to share their knowledge and experiences. The story of their expedition became a source of inspiration, reminding the people of Iris of the importance of exploration, perseverance, and the pursuit of knowledge.

But for James, the journey was more than a scientific expedition; it was a testament to the human spirit's capacity to endure, adapt, and overcome. The challenges they faced in the Arctic had forged bonds that would last a lifetime and had taught him the true value of teamwork, determination, and the support of a nation united behind its explorers.

As he looked forward to the next adventure, James knew that the story of their Arctic expedition would be remembered not just for its scientific achievements, but for the enduring spirit of exploration that drives humanity to seek the unknown, to face the greatest challenges, and to return home, changed but unbroken.

And so, the legend of James R. Kennedy and his team became an integral part of Iris's rich tapestry of history, a beacon of hope and courage for future generations to follow.

James R. Kennedy will be coming to St Abby soon!

Draganisia, Aserlandia, and Botion

Hey guys, what are you doing?

Aserlandia wrote:I'm doing great thanks for asking, ready for N-day?

yes

For whom the Taco Bell tolls!

The large number of small talk from new nations and embassy regions is good and all. Though, as others have stated before it ruins the placement and organization of roleplay posts. Feels weird to see a long post and suddenly there's a statement by another nation saying just "hi" in the RMB.

If it could be limited, that'd be much appreciated. Join the St Abbaddon discord if you wish to communicate with the region's members. Visitors from all regions are welcome to the discord. (Link here: https://discord.gg/pXqgHya)

Thank you.

Oceania, Elder of Security, and Interim Elder of Foreign Affairs.

Agreed. As of right now the RMB is only for RP Posts or Regional Announcements from the St Abbaddon Government (and probably allies as well)

If you want small talk than please join our Discord Server.

Post by Nikolaias suppressed by Naturia.

Saxe-Weimar-Eisenbach und Hohenstein wrote:Hello st Abbaddon.

Hello, indeed! This is Saxe, but I call him Hohen. And I'm Nikolaias, but you can call me Niko.

Post by Techno e Mech suppressed by Naturia.

I think I've completed Avaldonia's visit. HELLO ST. ABBADON!

Battle of Draganisia City: Battle of the Palace, 2.0

Prince Jesse brushed the last fragments of grit on his shoulder. Upon his entrance into HQ, the eyes of the new and young Emperor were upon him instantly. Jesse saw the Emperor's work cluttered on the table. Intel reports, espionage intel, reconnaissance. These are the duties we passed down to him.

“Hello, David.”

David had both hands clenched in fists. As much as he'd always been calm and well-tempered, Jesse knew that David had a tendency sometimes to enter a darker side. A son does take after his father. But there was a reason that himself, Prince Jesse, had refused the mantle of reign over Draganisia. David has the ability to be a much better ruler than I ever could be. But is his youth too much of a danger for us?

Emperor David glared at his father. “And where were you just now?”

Jesse checked his wristwatch. “Oh. Seems like only a few hours ago I was leading a remnant of police officers and troopers to ambush every conceivable Leuthenist blockhouse... something the new Emperor seems very reluctant to do now. I am your father David, and you are my son as well. So don't you dare think—”

David cut him off. “You know very well I wasn't thinking that.”

“Then tell me, David. What were you thinking?”

The fists unclenched but David still wasn't relaxed. “I know you're angry about what happened to Jake. I am too. But if there's something to learn it's that being reckless won't make him heal any faster. Now our doctors might not be used to removing Draganium bullets but they did a hell of a good job. I've granted citations to all of them and they've told me the good news. Jake will make a full recovery... but it will take some time.”

He'd been too harsh on his son. David was trying his best to keep the family together amidst all this. All the chaos. All the hurt. “I'm... I'm sorry David. Son. I should've asked before doing what I did.”

David nodded somberly. “I'm sorry too, father. I should've talked with you sooner. But this new position. Emperor. I know about service, war, and patriotism. But governing and administration. This is all new to me father... but you all trust me to do the right thing.”

“And you will, David.” Jesse strided over and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. “Brian chose you for a reason. In the end, you're going to make us all proud.” Jesse hugged his son. David needed his father more than ever now. And he wasn't going to abandon him so soon.

There was still work to do, though. He began shoveling through the paper errands that David had on his desk. “So what's next?”

“You help me retake the Palace,” Gladius said as he emerged from another bunker chamber.

“Uncle,” Jesse curtly nodded.

Gladius gave a nod back. Then he turned towards David. “David tell him what you told me.”

The Emperor David took one of the folder laid out on his desk and handed it to Jesse. “Our allies from Stonehollow and Silverstone are still trying make a breakthrough in the south. The original plan was to liberate the palace when they'd finally broken the Anarchian's defensive lines. Now we've been forced to scrap it. We're going in now no matter what.”

“And why is that?” Jesse asked. He scanned through the folder. He opened it to unveil a series of documents showing digitized code transmissions. There was also several maps of the entire palace complex. As well as communication records with their allies in the south city.

“Admiral Long has taken matters into his own hands. He wants to have communication restored as soon as possible, according to the information the Stonehollese government managed to send to our friend General Evelyn Llescas.

"Several high officers, such as Admiral Maya Burton there, are not in favor and want us to conduct our mission now. Long intends to give the order for a full scorched earth strike on the entire palace complex. Llescas decided to nickname it the 'Long Hammerdown Protocol'. It'll destroy anything and everything in a one and a half mile radius. But if we get there in time and retake it, raise our banners and pop flares on the tops... we will have saved our home. The strike will be aborted.

Another thing. We received an encoded data transmission coming directly from the palace itself. Read it yourself in the documents.”

Jesse pulled out the transcript with the recorded digitized code. He translated it as had been taught to him in cyberops. “LEUTHEN.” Now things have just gotten interesting.

“The signal was just sent to us. It has to be the leaker that's been providing us all this intel,” David remarked. “If he is there that is. I trust our reconnaissance teams are right though. There's too much equipment at the palace for it to be a ruse or an unimportant officer. We believe he's still there right now.”

Prince Jesse relinquished a smile. “Good. We kill him we can end the whole war entirely.”

“It won't be easy though.”

“When has my work ever been easy, David?”

“Keep your focus though, father. Our first objective is the palace. If it's destroyed then so is our family's legacy and our history. After that, find Leuthen or intelligence that can bring him to us if he manages to escape. I did receive word from General Llescas that some special operatives are on the move already towards the palace. They'll deal with the rest of your problems once the palace is safe.” With growing eyes David looked at Jesse. “You best get moving, father.”

As Jesse was making his exit from David's compound, he added, “What about the tunnels?”

David was puzzled. “Why would need the palace tunnels for this? We blew them up when we fled. There's too much rubble and even then it's not worthwhile to liberate the palace from there.”

“I can blow them from the outside and get them cleared. I'm going to need every man I can get inside of the palace to get to the top in time. There's a lot of room to be cleared.”

Before David could respond to that, Gladius answered first. “You got your extra men, Jesse. I know who to call. Anyway. It's time to move. You heard your Highness.”

“You're coming with me?” Jesse asked.

“You said it yourself. You need every man once you're in that palace. Now let's go.”

David nodded. There was pride in his eyes too. “Good luck, father. Promise me that you'll stay alive. I don't want more losses in this family.”

Jesse shook his son's hands. “I will come back David. I promise.” Turning to Gladius he saw the determination in his uncle's eyes. Jesse was motivated as well. It was time to free their home and all of Draganisia.

“Let's do this.”

---

<<This is it!>>

Lizara Johannesink took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She ignored the truck they were within. She ignored the sighs, grunts, and fears of men. She ignored it all. Lizara only saw one face as she felt the time ticking away.

I will avenge you, sister. They did this to you. And they will pay.

<<Commander Johannesink, ninety seconds until contact. Get ready back there>>

Lizara felt the rifle in her hand. It was cold hard steel. It was loaded. She was ready. They were about to enter the vicinity of one of the most important areas in the entire combat theater. Except their focus was not to liberate the palace.

It wouldn't hurt to move away from the objective...

Opening her eyes she saw her men gazing at her. They were fearful. They felt lost. And she could not blame them. When she'd briefed her officers back at the operating base they were confused and lost. All along the front was the same. Being deployed otherwise near from any angle to the Palace was a death wish.

But those were the orders given to this band of mercenaries. And they were going to follow them.

Commander Johannesink clutched her radio in the palms of her hands. She echoed clearly, “I know what you're all feeling. We've lost too many and we may lose just as many as we have lost. We've lost friends, family, loved ones. I know all this as you all know too. This is what we signed up for as contractors. The Stonehollese fear sending their own men for the type of mission we will be undertaking. Just remember who the enemy truly is. Who were those that killed our friends and family? Our brethren? Any Leuthenist that surrenders to us, kill them. I don't care how friendly or pretty they may be. They killed our kin and blood. They will suffer our wrath not our mercy. Goldsink Security League! Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah! Skulls of golds forevermore!”

“Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah! Skulls of golds forevermore!”

The doors flew open behind them. It was time to leap into action.

“Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah! Skulls of golds forevermore!”

---
“Get up Captain! We're on the move!” Lizara shouted. They were still several yards away from the Palace. Crossing block after block discretely. Slipping into alley after alley. Every passing heartbeat she would lift her Mk14 expecting an enemy to appear from a corner. The urge to shoot something came in but she retained it. They had to keep quiet. So far they hadn't made contact with any foe but Lizara was sure that could change in any moment.

“Roger that Commander... it's just I'm tired.” Captain Yufro was one of the Ovanites in her company. Lizara had promoted him yesterday to succeed Captain Nadre. But the pressure... Lizara knew maybe she'd made the wrong choice. But now was not the time for regret.

Two of her own lifted up Yufro and helped him pick up his equipment. “I get it, Yufro. But we need everybody here alert. This won't be an easy mission. We have no way of getting into the Palace securely at the moment.” She knew that's where the true problem lied.

“Yufro. You hold command until I return. Sergeant Timoth, you're with me. We're going recon.”

“Roger,” Sergeant Timoth answered. He was one of her newer recruits from Stonehollow. But a former member of the Oceanic Army in special reconnaissance. She could trust him to have her back.

The snow had become sleet overnight. And a thick fog had also set in which had made keeping cover from amidst the urban complex ever so desirable. Sergeant Timoth moved ahead of Lizara as they slipped behind a hotel that would lead them forward towards the wide complex that would be the Palace. There was wire littered about she saw. They were almost out of the corridor between the hotel and another complex. She saw lights coming from the direction of Palace and shadows outside in waiting near it. With this fog she needed to get a closer loo—”

Timoth was busying removing wire when suddenly... “Commander!”

Lizara turned around and saw the glint of barrel. In an instant she was slammed into by a shadow dropping her rifle. Pinned against the wall she reached for her knife but upon doing so had it knocked aside by a swift hand. Bahamut's grace be on me... come on. She kicked out beneath her and her assailant fell back. She struck with her elbow against the face of her assailant and proceeded to continue driving punches towards them. But it wasn't long before she was knocked off her feet by another shadow.

“Hey! Hands up now! You gods' damned bastards.” Timoth held his rifle in the direction of her assailants. He was situated as a statue, waiting for the slighest movement of their opponents.

Lizara had enough. She jumped back up and slammed back into the first assailant. They were now grunting and tussling on the ground. She saw the glint of her rifle and began making strides towards it but to no avail. Her opponent was trying their best to get her off them. She was too distant from her rifle... as was her opponent. She saw their rifle right next to them. She had to make a move now... or else she'd be dead.

Her left hand tugged at her pistol from its holster and she aimed it at her foe just as they grabbed their rifle and aimed it at her. If it wasn't for the fireburst of an artillery shell that came in just a heartbeat later... they might've both been dead.

Lizara saw the Draganisian emblem.

---

“I thought we were the first ones here.”

“I would've said the same for my men and I. Now here we are.”

“Who sent you then?” the Draganisian operative asked her.

“General Evelyn Llescas. We were to infiltrate the Palace.”

“It seems our interests align then. We are to do the same.”

Lizara cocked her head. “Well... if this is the case. Perhaps we could aid one another.”

“Perhaps we could.”

Sergeant Timoth came up to hand over back Lizara's Mk14 rifle to her. As she checked her rifle, she later added to the Draganisian operative, “So who are you? I already told you who I am.”

Lizara saw both operatives shake heads. The second operative, with much larger towering figure mumbled first. “Best we keep our identities covert, Commander Johannesink. Call me Snake and my partner here 'the Prince'. Help us get through to the palace and we'll promise you and your men a citation.”

Lizara and Sergeant Timoth exchanged a look. “No need for a citation, Snake. I got all the citations I need the moment we begin our killing.”

There was a flash of surprise from the Prince. “I've read your file Commander... I'm very sorry for what happened.”

Lizara didn't respond. “We better get moving you two. Let's regroup with my men and begin the first assault on the Palace.” She snapped her fingers at Timoth. “Gather whatever recon you can and report back to us. This assault begins soon.”

---

“This is Prince Jesse, Commander of Delta Squad. I repeat, this is Prince Jesse, Commander of Delta Squad. Our assault will commence in five... four... three... two... one. Shots fired.

“Contact has been made. Requesting assistance from Joint War Command. They got optics on us. Snipers, RPG teams, and heavy arms fire, all floors, twelve o'clock due north of our position. The assault on Dragon Plaza has begun. I repeat the assault on Dragon Plaza has begun...”

---

The night had started out dark, gray, and foggy. Now there was only blood orange in the air. Snow evoked the sense of fire. And the sleet only seemed to help fuel the flames by releasing even more smoke in the air. If there was ever a semblance of hell, This is the perfect view of it.

Jesse and Gladius and Lizara and her forces had managed to pave a pathway towards the palace gates after clashing for ten minutes along the outside complexes such as the hotel and restaurants that made up the surroundings. At one point Gladius crashed into a bakery and brought down an entire Anarchian fireteam holding out inside of it.

The fighting was fierce, however. Lizara and her men were well trained but the number of Anarchians holding the palace was overwhelming for all of them. Jesse had made his calls but there was no relief in sight. It alost seemed as trying to assault the palace was going to be to no avail.

Then a rocket came in from the westside and slammed directly into a machine gun nest along the east wing of the palace. It sent men flying from their position. Then came the roar of gunfire from behind them. The echo of a tank gun. The rapid fire of gun trucks as their M2A1s launched a blaze of tracer rounds in direction of the Anarchians on the palace tops.

Jesse glared through the fog to see a Draganisian JLTV humvee charge straight into the fray of the fight. Its automatic grenade launcher was sending round after round. Another gunner sat atop the vehicle sending a volley of bullets in the enemy direction. There were flashes of retaliatory fire but the armor shields kept them safe. And then Jesse saw the banners it wielded, Draganisian and Oceanic Remnant. But high above them all was the banner of Stonehollow, dark brown and white and orange. The blue mountain emblem embedded on the vehicle signified this welcoming force.

The 23rd Stonehollese Brigade.

His reinforcements had arrived...

---

Upon being told that an airstrike was imminent on the Palace. Lizara had considered simply withdrawing her forces as with the airstrike her objectives would be completed. The Field Marshal would be killed and she'd get get closer to fulfilling her company's contract.

But that was if. There was a possibility of them actually being able to take the palace and clear out all their objectives at the same time. It gave her the taste of vengeance too... so she decided to take action and aid in the assault on Dragon Plaza.

She crouched down along the outer fence as her lead engineer placed the last of the ordinance on the palace gate. Lizara counted, “Three... two... one. Now!”

The ordinance blew and in that very same moment her men lined up in position. “Contact ahead,” one of her men stated.

Lizara gave the call. “Engage. Engage. No friendlies on this area.”

They rushed through the palace gate amidst a fray of counter-fire. The area was now wide-open and if it wasn't for the bad weather they'd all be shot dead by now. But the bullets were missing, even the tracer rounds. That gave Lizara and her men enough time to form up and continuously advance forward through the palace courtyard. Anarchian after Anarchian was down. She felt every round leave her Mk14. One down... two... three... On and on they went clearing out Anarchians and taking cover amidst hedges and tossing grenades down into foxholes dug out throughout the courtyard.

Lizara smiled at every Anarchian uniform strayed on the ground.

Their charge had given the opportunity for their allies to make their way into the palace courtyards now. A team of Draganisian Rangers were pushing through and began to reinforce Lizara's rear. That was good, as the Goldsink forces were not checking if there were pursuing foes behind them. Either way, she wanted to get to the palace as soon as possible.

“Commander Johannesink. We got your six.” The Prince and Snake had emerged alongside the Rangers.

Now we're making progress.

They advanced in a makeshift arrowhead formation. Sending down a fireteam or two to clear out machine gun nests or foxholes firing blindly in the weather. As the rain got steeper the grounds also became more slippery. It was paramount they all stick together to avoid becoming lost. Lizara moved over to tap three of her men so they would follow her. All four of them split from the arrowhead to assault a nest situated only a couple yards from the pillars that marked the palace's grand entrance.

As her men aimed their weapons in the nest's direction. Their effort was short-lived. The roar of metal of metal came from behind them and Lizara managed to squint her eyes to catch the glare of a tank gun firing. In an instant, the entire nest they mad meant to attack was wiped instantly. Even the windows on the first floor that were yards away from the nest were shattered upon the blast.

Lizara could have cheered a bit of victory. But there was an opportunity from what had just occured moments before. And she had only moments to do it.

Rushing forward with her men she leapt into the nest and out. Pulling the pin in her grenade in an instant. She tossed one. Then another. Then another. Her men did the same. She was about to toss another frag until at last...

The explosion roared so loud that for a heartbeat almost everything throughout the battlefield could be seen clearly. The dead. The corpses. The blood spilled. The broken equipment and the ravaged trench lines. Lizara could see it all for a moment. Almost as if her mind had warped her back in time to mere moments ago.

Then she returned to her senses. The taste of water and ash on her lips.

Her and her men charged through into the devastation they had created within the palace. The explosives and grenades they'd tossed through the shattered windows had now created a gaping hole wide enough even for a Humvee. She led her three men into the hole, shooting at anything that moved. Every round she shot was vengeance for the sweet sister she'd lost. For all the men she'd seen fall under her command. Captain Nadre. The numerous she'd lost fighting in South Draganisia City. The numerous others that had fallen at Leyilo'o Farm.

It felt satisfying to be the first one to enter the Palace.

And it felt even more satisfying to see the dead mounted within it.

---

“Hustle up! Get to the Palace! Move!” A Draganisian ranger was waving his hands commandingly at his fellow troops. “Come on let's go people, this way!” As Jesse and Gladius paced along side him he then said, “Move! Move! Get to the Palace! Colonel Marshall will be waiting for you!”

“They're already in?” Gladius questioned.

“Yes they have, sir. Goldsink mercs blew a gap in the wall. Heavy fighting already on the lower floors.”

Jesse and Gladius kept their heads down low to avoid the counter-fire from above. The Leuthenists seemed to be aiming better now as the sheer amount of explosions and fires was making visbility through the fog better. Both made their way towards the hedgeline where the head field commander Colonel Marshall, a Draganisian, was crouched down with a radio in hand, coordinating the combative effort. “I'm telling you what we need here, Llescas! We need air support.” The Colonel then lifted his hands in a commanding motion. “Keep hitting 'em with the tanks! Get more men moving on the left flank! We're about to make a break. Move! Move!”

Jesse poked his head out across the hedgeline to eye there was still heavy fighting throughout the courtyard. At that moment, too, a tank rushed into the courtyard slamming through steel fenceline and stonewall only a couple yards from the outer gate. It left another wide-open gap behind it as it guns and its sitting gunner sent shells and lead to the enemies ahead. “We've got a tank in the courtyard now. That's a new one.”

“We might have control of the courtyard soon enough,” Gladius said. He was reloading another clip into his rifle. “But even with men already inside the palace, just look at the palace doors. We haven't broken into them. Opening those immediately unveils the staircase to get higher.” Gladius then turned towards the Colonel whom was still busy commanding and tapped him on the shoulder. “We're Delta Squad, Colonel. The Prince is here. What is the situation here?!”

The Colonel responded still grasping onto the radio. “You are looking at the high ground here in Draganisia! Enemy forces are well entrenched inside the Palace! Most of my men are pinned down by those damn gun nests all over those windows! If you hit them on the right flank and move towards the West Wing you should get the jump on enemy positions and make it easier to retake the rest of the Palace!” He eyed Jesse and Gladius closely. “You did state you were members of Delta, aye?”

“Aye,” both Jesse and Gladius mumbled.

“Then make Draganisia proud. Good luck boys. Take the West Wing and free the Palace.”

Jesse nodded. Looking at Gladius he stated, “Then that is where we are going.”

Gladius took a moment to ponder. He shook his head. "Or we could just go as full dragons and break right through the front door? Seems to me its the faster way to get up top.”

Jesse: “After what happened with Jake I don’t want to risk it when any of them could have Draganium bullets just like Viktor did. We will go through the West Wing and move up from there. Let’s get moving. C'mon!”

---

The Draganisia Palace really actually consisted of three main structures. The Palace, the West Wing, and the East Wing. From many nations, the design of the Palace inspired other buildings across the world. From the Marble House in Oceania to the Thane's Residence far east iN Dabrela. The West Wing served as the official workplace and housed offices and apartments for the Emperor and his staff. The East Wing served as the centre for the Empress Regnant or Consort... a duty not served by anyone yet. Both wings were connected by a respective series of arcades that connected them with the main Palace itself. Jesse, as did many othters, simply referred to the arcades as the Colonnades, while those that knew the Palace in older times dubbed it the Arches or Arcades.

Jesse had been born in this Palace. It'd been his home for years and years. Not just him, but his entire family had resided here. His son David. His siblings. Even those of the cadet and junior branches, some of them still resided in this same Palace that they also called home and the seat of all their House. The Imperial House of Draganisia.

Jesse had played in his father's office in the West Wing. He'd enjoyed the gardens situated outside the East Wing. Rolling around in roses and shrubs and herbs and all. The smell of green grasses and fallen citruses and fallen leaves. He'd seen his son David in the same. My son. Now the head of this family. Patriarch of the entire House.

This was their history. Their home. A beacon of their nation and the beacon for an entire nation. No... for an entire world.

Leuthen wouldn't take that from him. No matter how hard he tried. They would keep fighting. They would keep fighting...

Bullets richocheted in their crossing towards the West Wing. Swerving around the Palace, Jesse and Gladius crouched low along tall bushes that marked the sight of the garden that sat between. Jesse scanned the tops of the West Colonnades and eyed a grouping of Leuthenist soldiers busying themselves at the top. They were shooting but not at them. “Move with me,” Jesse said to Gladius, “and we'll get to the West Wing.“

Rushing through towards the wing they still kept close to eachother. But once they did enter the colonnades...

“Jesse behind you!“

Jesse swerved upon Gladius' warning and saw it... an Anarchian fireteam. He saw the blaze of their uniforms before—

“Bahamut's grace, Prince. You need to watch your six.“

The Commander Johannesink had thrown herself at Jesse merely moments before the Anarchian bullets caught him. A fireteam she led took down the Anarchian fireteam... but the noise.

“The noise, Commander. The noise!“

Johannesink was puzzled. “What do you mean?“

Gladius answered first. His eyes grew wide. “He means above us!“

Ropes dropped down. And in those instants Anarchian soldiers came down sliding from their ropes and began firing down on them. Running, Jesse saw the entrance to the West Wing wide open in front them. “C'mon! Run.“

As they dashed forward, more of those from the top were jumping down to attack them. Dianica and her men exchanged a few shots but only managed to down too few. A soldier jumped down and swerved towards Gladius. But Gladius knocked him aside before his shots could do anything. They were getting close... Come on. Come on.

He made it. But turning around he saw Lizara and her men still rushing towards them. Jesse aimed and shot but to no avail. There were still too many of them. “Gladius. Once they're all through, shut the door.“ Gladius nodded before continuing to return fire.

One made it. Then another. Lizara and one more man were left, still running and shooting behind them. Lizara was nearly there before... Jesse shouted, “Commander, behind you!“

One of the Anarchians charged straight at her, bringing her to the ground. She grappled with him but the soldier already had a pistol closing in on her head. Jesse tried to motion his rifle towards them but couldn't get an aim right on the soldier. C'mon. C'mon Jesse.

The pistol was inching closer and closer. Her other man was busy exchanging shots behind him to give his commander cover. But he was too exposed. And Jesse saw the brightness of silver in the air. A screech. And a cry for help. A knife embedded itself into the soldier's shoulder. But it was too late to help him now. He was riddled in bullets and left for dead.

Jesse saw Lizara still grappling. Other Anarchians wereclosing in. He had to make the shot...

A head blew up. Jesse even checked his rifle. It wasn't him.

Gladius had made the shot. And in an instant Lizara kicked the body off her, dashing with full speed, and slid into the West Wing.

“Now!”

Gladius slammed the door shut.

---

“Dammit. Darn. Darn. Darn. Tiamat be sent to hell!“ Lizara swung her rifle around in furor. “Those Anarchians be damned. Damn them all.“ I'm going to kill them all. Contract or no.

The Prince answered her calmly. “You've lost one, Commander. But you still have many more left. We Draganisians have already lost many here today. If you think you've lost enough, look around. Look at me. Look at Snake. We've lost far more in other battles then here.“

Lizara turned towards the Prince. “If you think I don't know that sir Prince. Who I just lost there was the fiancé of my now dead sister. I get it. Loss is loss. But it hurts more than you could ever know when its someone you care about. Now, what the hell is our next mission? I didn't come over to help you all for nothing.“

“And it won't be for nothing, Commander,” the Snake stated. A slam on the locked doors from the Anarchians outside grew the worry on his face. “Best we get moving. We won't be safe here for long. Come on.“

They crossed through a hallway in the middle of the West Wing building. There were corridors and smaller chambers leading to other rooms and offices all throughout. But they reached the end of the hallway where a trapdoor was hidden with the floorboards there. The Snake placed his fingers in and lifted the door up. Traversing through the ladder they reached a large underground chamber. The Prince held out a lighter and tossed another to the Snake once he came down last.

“This is the moment we part, then.” The Snake gripped the lighter and slipped his rifle to his side. “We'll see eachother soon.” After nodded heads and unsaid words the Snake headed off through a steel door situated at their side and ventured into darkness, the Snake's heavy footsteps drowning out.

The Prince took the helm. “These tunnels connect across the entire palace complex. Follow me. There's a tunnel that leads directly towards the Grand Staircase of the Palace. We'll be able to get to the top from there.”

“Why don't we go through another staircase?” Lizara asked. “Seems to me to be far less troublesome if we advance through far less viewed positions.”

“The steps in other rooms don't go all the way to the top. The Grand Staircase does. And I'd rather be able to view the enemy in front of us instead of them suddenly appearing from a corridor.” The Prince began picking a lock through the steel door directly in front of them. Having unlocked it he pulled it open and shifted a hand out. “Ladies first.”

Lizara muttered. “This better be safe.”

The Prince took them through the tunnel. Lizara and her men kept their hands along the wall just in case. It was dark but every once in awhile Lizara's hands slipped from their position along the wall. “There's other rooms everywhere. These connect with a larger bunker complex down further below.”

“Why aren't there any signs of Anarchians here?”

“Accessways are all hidden very well. Underneath floorboards like the one in the West Wing. Below the gardens outside. A press of a button on a colonnade. Not very accessible or known. I wouldn't be surprised if the Anarchians did find out about them and may have used them. But without power or enough time, there would be no point in using them.” The Prince motioned them to another side as they reached a corner junction. “Some of these tunnels are older than others. Some built recently, other from centuries ago and repurposed. Some lead out directly to the Harbor and other to the southernmost part of the city.”

“You know an awfully large amount about this place.” Lizara felt her breath sticking. “It's stuffed in here. Smells rotten. Sewer gas?”

“Dormant volcanoes litter the outermost areas of the city. Some are underground below it as well. Maybe one was built beneath the Palace, I don't know. There's no functional power here so all the conditioners aren't taking the gas out.” They reached another junction. The Prince pointed once more. “This way, we should be getting close.”

And just like that, Lizara could hear shouting in the distance. “Sounds like we're here. Goldsinks. Diamond formation. Shoot first and don't scoot.” She raised her rifle. “Let's kill those bastards.”

“Three...” the Prince led them up a staircase leading up towards the hidden door.

“Two...” Lizara cocked her rifle in preparation.

“One...” her men gave a final hoorah.

“Zero...” it was time... time to kill them all.

“Go!” the Prince charged.

Lizara called, “On me! Let's do this.”

They emerged into a decorated room. From the bullets ricocheting outside and the sheer number of explosions heard. Lizara knew they were in the first floor. But there was no one in sight. “What is this?”

“The throne room,” the Prince said. “It's empty, though.” Kicking a crubled pile of marble debris away, he mumbled, “It's in the inner rooms. Might be why it's unguarded.”

Lizara looked around. It was massive this throne room. Massive pillars stretching out across in a line through the center. A massive number of decorated seats, chairs, and bleachers situated at its edges. Huge arched windows (some shattered) and statues of dragons, merfolk, and wyverns along its edges. And a massive throne with several underling ones situated at the deck of the hall. An arsenal of regality and splendor. If only even Dianica... oh sweet sister. If only you were alive to see this.

Because her sister loved dragons. She loved merfolk. And death had taken away that love from her. And now even her lover was dead.

Lizara fell on her knees and sobbed.

I'm so sorry, sweet sister. I'm so sorry... None of her cries would ever be heard by her sister. Oh, she knew that. But the guilt of her death. The guilt of what had happened. That night in Leyil'o Field when her sister was futily trying to get a grip on Lizara's hands. The blood was too much, slipping through both of their grasps. Dianica's voice was a cacophony of pain. Her eyes were white. Her sighs too heavy. Her limbs weak and her mind obviously too... that was the sister she lost.

And the entire time, the eyes of the General Evelyn Llescas had been upon them. And the red and black banners had begun retreating into the night.

The Prince only stared. His eyes warm but sad in the dim light. While her men remained confused and sorrowful. They saw what Lizara saw. A person much more inoccent than this band of mercenaries. A person with a heart of ambition but one of ease. A person that they had believed to be the future successor to Lizara. A proud apprentice, a figure of their past. The families they left behind. The children. The little time they ever spent back in their homelands.

That was the reason they loved Dianica. That was the reason the Goldsinks felt broken.

“I've lost many close to me too, Commander. Those that warranted my trust, my honor. Kin, family, friends. I've seen death and destruction against my family. Against my people. One loss is enough to break a person. One victory... it may be enough to regain oneself.” The Prince walked over towards Lizara a placed a hand on her shoulder. A voice of comfort and pain that reverberated within the hall. “This is our war, Commander Johannesink. Where we grieve and lose all the same. We lose one, then another. And all around it goes until it finally consumes us. I've seen a son of mine force himself to mature far more than his youth requires. My family tear through chaos and tears as we try to redeem ourselves of the past. It all comes down to knowing that every loss makes us stronger. Makes us redeemable. To learn from the sins and to rectify all that's been done.

“We are fallen angels. But nobody has ever said we couldn't ever touch the light.”

The Prince stuck out his hand towards Lizara. His eyes remained warm. “Get up, Commander. There's still a cause to fight for left.”

Holding out her hand, he hoisted her back up on her feet. “Let's get to work then,” Lizara said. She only hoped her eyes were bright.

Fixing her rifle and getting her munitions checked she noted she was out of grenades. “Gren, pass me two frags.” She then eyed the Prince motioning over to the largest throne, one with dragons at its edges. He brushed a hand along its armrests. “The Dragon's Throne they call this. The symbol of Draganisia's pride.”

The grenadier in her team passed her the two frag grenades she needed. Returning focus towards the Prince still situated around the throne. “I have a bad feeling about what's coming, Prince.”

“Why's that?” the Prince asked. He took his hands off the throne.

“Four of us to scale stairs up. As much as I'd wish it were possible. The amount of firepower up there and the lack of cover... isn't there another route. I saw the stairs when I was in the lower floor. Their spiral stairs... how in any battle circumstance would it possible to scale through that?”

“It's the fastest way up. We have no choice. They could be inbound already.”

“Aye, but I'd rather not lose more than I already have.”

“Neither would I. But if I don't do this then my nation will be broken. I need your help.”

As much as Lizara wished there was another way. She was in... no matter what. “And you have it. But if it comes down to leaving either one of us to get all the way up... so be it. We finish the mission.”

“I'm with you on that. Now, let's go.”

They paced their way out of the throne room with their arms wielded and equipment readied. This hadn't been part of the plan. Their mission had been to go in and out. But this was their fight too. It was personal. And Lizara wouldn't leave it unfinished like this. “There's a few rooms between us and getting to the Grand Staircase. But—”

Lizara stopped.

“Commander?”

There's rumbling... She lowered herself on one knee and touched the floor with one hand. There was shaking beneath them. She thought she could hear a shout. Maybe a rallying cry? But then the noise was gone. Then it came again, mumbles and babbles in some tongue perhaps? This wasn't a volcano, right? “There's something beneath us. It's moving fast.”

The Prince strided over to her. He placed his feet near her position. “Where's it going?”

She pointed to the large entrance doors into the throne room and then back towards the throne. “There to there.”

The Prince's eyes lit up. “If it is what I hope it is... Bahamut be thanked.” Lizara got back up onto her feet. “Better keep your arms ready. If it's not what I hope it is then we stand our ground.”

They formed up in front of the throne room with their rifles aimed at the throne itself. They stood vigilant. Steadfast. Ready. There was a sense of fear within her. What is he waiting for? But she would remain silent. In all her experience, sometimes a bit of surprise was necessary in war. Either for the boost of morale or to deter a foe. Plus... if it had been volcanic tension, it wasn't her first gamble with volcanoes. She'd fought beneath them once. As did thousands of others. A flaming hell.

This wasn't hell at least. And then she felt the movement again. She kept her rifle steady. The motion... marching almost... it was moving further and further closer to the throne.

“Ready,” the Prince ordered.

Lizara heard a creak. A shout. A roar almost.

Fear wanted to consume her. She wouldn't let it. Not even grief. Not even death.

And she felt the last motions begin to rise. They were climbing.

A trapdoor opened from beneath the throne. Unveiling a dark chamber. She prepared to fire as did her many.

The first thing that rose from beneath it... was the banner of Draganisia.

And a wolf's head...

---

“There's hundreds more moving through the catacombs, sir.” What a relief that is. Even then, the hundreds of us already here in the throne room may have already won this battle.

“It's good to see the Steel Wolves are still standing, Commander Pavlovich.” Jesse faced the other commanders. He saluted their men they had brought. Their uniforms emblazoned with their nations of origin and their company banners. It was a delight to see all their faces. “And all of you of course. It hasn't been easy for anyone of us. Not even you companies that were the first to see the frontlines.”

“Which is why we stand here with you now. To retake the Palace at long last and fulfill the duties of our contracters.” Commander Pavlovich motioned to the other officer commanders.

The co-founder and a Commander of the Steel Wolves, Anthony Pavlovich stood alongside other mercenary commanders. The Steel Wolves, the Nocturnal Company, the Daggerfall Covenant, the Darkfall Covenant, the Order of the Autumn Dragon. There were others, too. Some officers of the Oceanic Remnants. Even some members of the Royal Guard of Draganisia. They stood with them all. And here they all were, with as many forces as they could bring. Jesse had remembered many of them with him in the underground.

Now they had resurfaced for vengeance. “This here is Commander Johannesink of the Goldsink Security League. She's contracted by General Evelyn Llescas.”

“Good to meet you, Commander Johannesink.” The Commander Pavlovich approached her. Jesse saw Lizara shake hands with and and greet all the commanders quickly.

Pavlovich turned to Jesse. “Now, sir. We're here to aid you. What's the situation before we move?”

Jesse moved to respond until—

“The Palace is about to be destroyed. Our situation is that we need to save it.”

Gladius had arrived.

“Good to see you... Snake.” Jesse nodded.

“As well as you, Prince.” Gladius' eyes gleamed. “Detonating the debris wasn't hard enough. There were Anarchians but it wasn't much of a hassle taking them out. Their shouting gave me their positions.” He swayed towards all the reinforcements. “Here's my success. Now. Let's get to work.”

“To the stairs!”

“Hoorah!”

---

“Keep moving up! Let's go! Go! Go! Go!

Three men of the Steel Wolves rushed ahead of her along the stairs. Lizara kept low, aiming through the railing and taking out as many Anarchians as she could see. They were emerging from other rooms connected along the stairs. Everytime a group of Anarchians emerged it was a surge of lead slamming into the railing and dozens more dead behind them. The three Wolves broke through a room and sent out a volley of fire in front of them. Lizara kept her pace. “Two fireteams closing in,” she eyed a large number of Anarchians emerging from above the stairs, “right above, twelve o'clock.”

The Prince was right ahead of her along the steps. “That's too many for us to rid.” Noticing a door next to him he kicked it down and charged into it. Lizara and the Snake followed through.

The Prince reported. “Room clear!”

“All clear,” the Snake answered as well.

They heard shots echo outside the door as the Anarchians continued to pace downwards.

“Ready?” the Prince asked both.

“Ready.”

When the fireteams were visible. They fired. And soon all members of the fireteam were downed in front of them. “We're clear now. Let's keep going up.”

They kept marching up, exchanging more and more shots. And getting closer and closer to the top of the Palace. They went through each room they could. Clearing more and more of them from enemies. Lizara's uniform became stained after minutes of constant fighting across the entire spiral. She didn't know if some of the men that fell were of their own or of their foe.

The Snake talked as they marched, “It’s weird. I expected this place to be totally looted by now… but just about everything is still here. I know you have seen this before... Prince. What is going on?”

The Prince answered, “They didn’t want to loot the place. They were looking for one thing specifically.”

The Snake seemed puzzled. “Do you have any idea what they were looking for?”

“We will figure that out after we secure it. Move to the roof now!" Lizara saw it, there was an open gap at the top above them. She could see light but also hear loud shouts outside. That's where we need to be.

Round after round. Grenade after grenade. Man after man. She felt her packs getting low from the constant reloading and the constant usage of her other explosives. She was now carrying thrice as many grenades as she picked up what she could from the fallen bodies littering the staircase. From friends and foes. She tossed them and glimpsed at the bursts of devastation they left behind.

All three of them were getting closer. But the numbers against them were getting tougher to repel. Lizara looked down to see they were far ahead of any other forces scaling the stairs. “We're alone up here.”

The Prince turned down to shout something but Lizara heard nothing. Instead she felt her blood chill. It's coming. <<This is Cujo 5-1 to any friendly units in the Palace Area, Hammerdown is in effect. I repeat, Hammerdown is in effect. If you are receiving this transmission, you are in a hardened high-value structure. Deploy flares on the roof of this structure to indicate that you are still combat effective. We will abort our mission on direct visual contact with this counter-sign.>>

“Prince you reading this?” Lizara shouted.

The Prince seemed almost frozen for a moment. He shook his head. “That's our cue. Let's speed it up. Go! Go!” the Prince shouted. Immediately several Anarchian soldiers fell in front of him in that rush.

They cut through their foes. Numbers growing and all. Lizara's legs were getting tired from the climb. But they were also feeling numb. Every step was an ounce of strength. And every shot was another slice of exhaustion. Still she fired and fired. She slashed at an Anarchian that rushed at her from a room. And she sent a killing gash through another that jumped at her from behind.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

The tranmission kept speaking.

<<Hammerdown is in effect. I repeat, Hammerdown is in effect.>>

<<Two minutes until weapons release.>>

“Push! Keep going!”

<<Deploy flares on the roof of this structure to indicate that you are still combat effective. We will abort our mission on direct visual contact with this counter-sign.>>

<<Two minutes until weapons release.>>

“Less than two minutes left! Keep going!” Lizara keep her shots going. Clearing foot after foot going up. Clearing office after office. Dormitory after dormitory. There were Anarchians everywhere. But soon she saw a uniform that confused her.

“We got Zed's Legion in here! I repeat Zed's Legion!”

The Prince pointed his rifle upwards. Still shooting round after round. “They've come from the top. They've got ceramic plates covering them.” His rounds were making their marks but the Legionnaires were much harder to take down now. “Where were these bastards when the fighting started.

“That won't be enough to stop us. Forward!” the Snake jumped and shot. Lizara charged one of the armored soldiers. Knocking them back towards the railing in a small struggle and sending them down. She kept pace with the other two. Not wishing to stray behind and fall prey... We're almost there.

“We're almost there, Commander! Come on!”

<<One minute until weapons release.>>

“One minute. Go! Go! Go!”

Lizara looked up. The gap was larger now... We're so close.

<<Forty-five seconds until weapons release.>>

She slashed at the leg of one of the Legionnaires. They were surging against them, forming a human wall along the top of the steps. The Prince and the Snake were tustling with them. Still, they were making ground. They were getting close... but they had to get out of the grip of these bastards.

She knocked a shotgun aside out of the hand of one Legionnaire and slammed her pistol against them. Shooting them straight in the head. Her rifle had fallen in the struggle.

<<Thirty seconds until weapons release.>>

The Prince wrestled with one of the Legionnaires along the stairs. Trying to wrestle the shotgun of the Legionnaires hands. Lizara charged down the steps and knocked the Legionnaire to the side. And shot them straight in the head. She hoisted the Prince back up. “Thirty seconds left! Come on.”

The Snake called ahead of them. He was already at the top of the steps. “We're close to the top! Come on you two!”

They were almost there. She saw the gap clearly now. There was a ramp of broken wall and debris that led up. Lizara and the Prince ran across the final steps breathlessly.

We've reached the end of that spiral hell...

“Clear up! Let's go. Pop those flares, Commander.[/i]

Lizara was already dashing up the ramp. She put her pistol aside and pulled a flare out of her knapsack. The Prince was to her side. They were about to do it.

<<Twenty seconds until weapons release.>>

Then she felt the breath taken out of her.

A Legionnaire had charged into her and sent her flailing back. She was on her back now. Screeching and wrestling with this new opponent as they sent blow after blow against her. She attempted to pull out her pistol in its holster but the opponent knocked it aside. And she saw their face... it was no human but a dragon. Every blow was so much more powerful...

“Commander!”

“You bastard!”

The Prince surged forth towards her. But she saw as another Legionnaire charged and took him down.

<<Fifteen seconds until weapons release.>>

Armor against will. Will that was about to be broken.

A palace about to be destroyed.

---

Captain Henry Bartley had never felt such pain.

<<Beta 1 inbound. Requested Alpha check.>>

<<Request already granted a minute ago, Beta 1. Commit to target has not changed. >> his AWACS answered.

Henry knew he was getting close. The ashes here were getting thicker. And so was the glow from below.

<<Contact, Dragon Plaza, over>>

This is what it feels to delete history?, he thought. Not pain or guilt. Just confusion. Mistrust.

He heard the chatter of his wingmen. Inque Jessica and her Rowandalian pilots were busying themselves to keeping his tail end secured. She was busy dealing with other jets. This was his bomb. His destruction. His shame and guilt. Perhaps this would be his magnum opus. Or this would be his nightmare. He once wondered touring the palace with Elizabeth when this was all over...

Inque Jessica. <<Hostile, three o'clock. Furball here. Don't buddy spike me, Sapphire 2.>>

Sapphire 2. <<I'm not what you should be worried about, Sapphire 1. Shifting to guns.>>

Sapphire 3. <<I got your tail, Beta 1. Bahamut's blessings.>>

Sapphire 4. <<We're here.>>

He saw the tops of the palace from amidst. His hands were queasy.

This was it...

he only felt darkness.

---

<<Ten seconds until weapons release.>>

“Go with her, Prince! Go!”

<<Five seconds until weapons release.>>

<<Four seconds until weapons release.>>

<<Three seconds until weapons release.>>

<<Two seconds until weapons release.>>

“Pop the flares! Now!

<<One second until weapons release.>>

...

---

When he saw it. When he saw the glow. He felt relief. He felt it all ebb away.

Bless Bahamut. Thank you.

---

<<Countersign detected at Dragon Plaza. Abort abort!>>

<<We got a countersign, abort mission! Abort! Abort!>>

<<Aborting weapons release. Rolling out!>>

Lizara threw the flares out in front of her. She slumped down on her knees and kissed the floor. I did it... Dianica. I made it.

The Prince stood motionless in front of her. The sun was rising in front of them. The fog had begun to dissipate. The rain and sleet had slowed. Now the light was rising in front of them.

<<Dragon Plaza has been retaken! I repeat, Dragon Plaza has been retaken!>>

Lizara heard dozens of footsteps behind her. Turning around she saw them all. Mercenaries, soldiers, police officers, veterans, conscripts... all of them. The Snake emerged too, battered and weary after having held off the two Legionnaires saving both the Prince and Lizara. She was thankful to them all. They had made it through. They had pushed through. Gone beyond the duties of their contracts and their obligations.

Mercenaries or not... they were still all soldiers by definition.

That was a brotherhood that anyone could respect.

One that Dianica had once wished to be a part off.

The Snake stood at the vanguard of the group of soldiers. “So, when are we hitting Imperi Anarchia again?”

Commander Pavlovich strided forward. “Not soon enough if the reports are to be true. But with what they've done to all our homes. We're probably gonna burn it down once we get there.”

“Hooah!” the soldiers exclaimed.

Lizara eyed the Prince. He remained focused in the distance that was clearing up. At the clashes that were finishing. At the banners being raised. At the enemies beginning their retreat. As the cheers died down he turned around to the men, especially at Commander Pavlovich. “If only it was simple as that, Commander.”

“Hey, he never said now.” The Snake then strided over to the Prince and stood steadfast alongside him. Having placed a hand on his shoulder, he added, “When the time's right, my Prince. When the time's right.

Hey everyone,

As you read this, our discord will be the main source for little conversations and such. If you see your message get suppressed, it’s only because we mainly use our RMB for Roleplay purposes. We aren’t doing it to be mean. It’s just so we can keep to the RP purposes! Thank you all!

Battle of Draganisia City: Battle of the Palace, 3.0

“Delta One-Two to Stronghold Five-Four. Do you read?”

“Copy Delta Two.”

“Any sign of General Commander?”

<<No sign. Clashes still on the lower corridors of Dragon Plaza. Will report back if needed.>>

“No sign of that bastard Leuthen yet, Jesse.” Gladius stood steadfast at the window, his eyes dark in the ashes. Having given word to EMperor David in his bunker, Gladius was relieved that their mission was a success. So he slouched down to catch his breath while Jesse searched the office. “I'll be honest. That was too close.”

Prince Jesse was shifting through his father's things. He'd found much. Folders and secrets left untouched. Gems and jewlery. Even some of the coins collected by a distant cousin. His cabinets were filled with objects of reknown and unknown. Some things even Jesse had never believed would have survived the war. Paintings worth millions of Dragoons and painted by some of the best modern artists of the period.

The West Wing almost seemed unscathed. Even his father's office felt fresh and new when he reentered it. “What good is intel recovery if there's almost nothing to actually recover, Gladius?” Jesse slammed a drawer shut. “Nothing taken here. This is far too weird.”

“The Palace was taken more than one reason. If there's anything I should know it's that.” Gladius fiddled with his rifle in short but aggressive motions. “General Commander Leuthen, back when I worked with him when he was a General. The military community praised him for his use of the unorthodox.”

Jesse took a painting off its post on the wall to search for hidden vaults in the section wall it covered. His hand traced everywhere... nothing. He searched beneath his father's desk... nothing. He heard Gladius' words enough to ponder curiosity. “How well did you know Leuthen, Gladius?”

“Not well enough. The man kept to himself and his general staff the vast majority of the time. It was the Supreme General Elias we worked more with. Poor man. Whatever may have happened to him.”

Jesse was growing weary from the search. His hands had come empty and it wasn't helping that everything seemed so normal... “General Elias was the only person that could keep Oceania together if Ethan Johnson or the Oceanic government collapsd. I don't doubt Leuthen somehow rid himself of him. His sister India did report her men found a general officer's uniform washed up in their besiegement in Enga. Him or not... we won't know. She didn't bring the uniform with her on the retreat.”

“Leuthen keeps his tracks well hidden. Makes more sense now to me why Nicholas Vinski sent him first when his war began. Leuthen was the top pupil of the Oceanic military culture. A vanguard of reknown. But he was different... far too different for the system. Making him Vinski's perfect puppet in his eyes.”

Jesse nodded. “A puppet that was manipulated and groomed for a genocide. And later revolted upon being ordered to do so.” Jesse recalled the history. General Leuthen and General Elias had both revolted from Vinski soon after being ordered to massacre rebels in Leuthen's home state of Anarchia and the so-called Sealand secessionists. Jesse shuddered to imagine the what-if. If Elias and Leuthen had stuck beside Nicholas Vinski. Using their own expertise against the Oceanic Coalition. Two men may have changed the course of history.

Gladius picked himself up to march over to one of the cabinets beneath Brian's workdesk. “Your father kept information on all those who worked with him always. Leuthen was one of those men.” One of the cabinets was locked. Gladius shot its locks and began pulling out folders in succession. “Ah. Got something.”

And there laid on the table was a photo. It seemed simply taken. There was a wooded valley behind them. A waterfall collapsing in the distance with white waters glistening. There was evena bird nest above the, the lens having caught the patterned eggs left within. Jesse's eyes were brimmed with suprise at who exactly was ther, though: Brian stood with hands on shoulders with Leuthen, General Elias, the then President of Oceania Giselle Eleanor, Jonathan Shepherd, and... “Edmund Burton.”

“Still a friend of your father's. If there was anyone close it was those two. Another one of your father's friends took this photo. It was a meeting somewhere the Aquarius Isles northeast of the Oceanic Mainland... I can't recall which island your father told me though.” Shifting through other images, there were numerous other photographed interactions, messages, and telegrams between Brian and leaders all over the world. Both political, military, and even financial. “Your father had his connections. Royal and noble families across the world looked up to him. They sought him for advice, resolving some disputes, and recognized his importance as a world leader. Now he passes this burden to David, Jesse. It'll be a struggle for him but I don't think he'll be alone.”

Jesse raised a brow. “What?”

“Perhaps it's time you knew. Or maybe I shouldn't say.” Gladius passed him a folder. “Open it.”

There it was. “He knew of this? He planned this?!”

“They were betrothed since birth. Brian could not leave anything ever to chance.”

“I was never consulted about this! Both of you gave the hand of my son to some... girl. A political marriage? My father has stooped low before... but never would I have ever seen him do something like this. A contract? Seriously.”

Gladius blinked. “Jesse. Your father didn't make that choice. They did.

Now Jesse was puzzled. A family of such reknown... being one of the key families that aided the restoration of Oceania to the world stage. The only daughter of a wondrous queen and an adeptly wise king... they sold the hand of their marriage for their only daughter. A daughter they bore out of love. Only to give her away? “How... this?”

Gladius placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was never our decision. They did it. She may just be the key to everything, Jesse. An aura flows around her. One her parents were never able to unveil. Just as David does... there's something there between those two. A dyad of light and dark. I've never seen something like this before... at least not in this time.” He placed the photo in his hand. The Emperor Brian holding the royal princess in his hands. “The moment she was born was unlike anything I'd ever seen. She is a key, Jesse. And Leuthen cannot get his hands on her... ever. David must not know either. Their union will save Draganisia... but also St Abbaddon.”

Jesse stumbled to respond. “I...” His father had secrets. Secrets he'd kept from Jesse himself. From the family. But never something like this. He planned David to succeed him the moment he was born. Jesse had never been his father's true heir. And that terrified him. Whatever David and this princess held in their grasps. Brian had seen it... and now it may just occur. “...I think we should keep searching.”

Gladius took a step aback. Jesse handed him back the folder. Gladius saw there was hurt in Jesse's eyes. “Forgive me, Jesse. But this was the only way forward once we knew. There is power. A power we need if we are to rebuild and survive. Leuthen has his secrets and so do we.”

I'm starting to hate keeping secrets, Jesse thought.

“There was a gift your father promised them...” and that's when Gladius' eyes popped out. “Gift! Jesse, is there anything missing from your father's desk?”

Jesse motioned towards the workdesk and began shifting items out from it. He was puzzled. “What are you looking for? It's just papers and little things.”

“A display case.” Gladius moved frantically around the office searching. “Have you seen a display case anywhere? Anywhere, Jesse?”

Jesse was puzzled. Then he knew. He father loved collecting artifacts and decorating every room in the West Wing with themb. Ancient things. Modern things. Yet there was always something he prized the most out of all, “the Medallion.”

“Yes, the Medallion! And if there's anything those bastards of Zed or Leuthen would ever want. It's something like that.”

“Why so?”

“Just like David and the princess. That Medallion has far more potential than you could ever know. You played around it. It seems so simple. Metallic and ancient. That is the key to our success. It was an artifact your father loved... but also feared. That is what they were looking for.” Gladius closed and opened cabinets. “A power resides in it. Far more powerful than any other medallions we have ever collected. Light is infused with it... and with it the power to make armies. Armies of light. Removing basic needs... if there's anything like that it's what Leuthen or Zed would want.”

“Tell me you're joking.”

Gladius faced him down. “I wish it was. I'm far too old to be joking, Jesse. We need to shut this place down now. Call your son, he needs to know now!”

---

It felt cold in his grasp.

This is what he wants. For what reason?

Chizu Fubertas shifted the case in his hands. The medallion almost seemed to eminate its own glow, sending flashes of light in each direction. Golden light. It'd be ordered anything and all precious objects be kept safe in the Draganisia Palace until they could be taken back. Now, this was the only thing that Leuthen wanted. Well, he said he required it.

His eyes circled throughout the office. Portraits. Photos. Emperors and princes and heirs. Family trees. Olden manuscripts. Field Marshal Fubertas eyed it all. This is a consequence. The fact we tore apart an entire family's home and nation.

There were two portraits that cause his gaze. One with the Emperor Brian, Prince Jesse, and princeling David. Brian held a newborn David in his arms while the Prince stood steadfast beside his father. A fitting look for them. Royalty. Dressed in the finest garments and drawn with the upmost hands.

Then there was the one he was here to see. Field Marshal Chizu Fubertas fell down on one knee in respect. It was my duty to defend her honor. As a General. As a soldier. As a friend. Forgive me Leuthen. She looked so simple. A simple red and black gown, dappled with sapphires and blue silk in an orthodox pattern. It was she who had been a key to everything. It was she who could've saved two nations. And it all had fallen then and there.

How many monsters were bore from such a war, Chizu thought. He could never seen the events that had transpired there ever the same. When the Tang Islands had erupted into war. When the young president Willow Vinski was shot amidst the chaos... twice. When the international community had seen its delegates slaughtered. And when the banners of a dozen factions rose all at once in rebellion and finality. It had been the final war for Oceania's existence... at least back then. Everyone believed its end had been final. That nothing from the past would ever haunt their future.

Except it has, and there's no going back to it.

What Chizu had seen. Uncovered. Discovered. The culprit was one nobody had ever expected. Not one he'd ever expected either. One who had been there since the beginning. One everyone trusted and believed to be tame.

He heard the footsteps... doors screeching... muffled voices...

“...there's a trail here.”

“Keep going. We're close.

... the office door was opened.

“Drop it!”

Chizu Fubertas stood still. Eyes adamant.

“Identify yourself!” a woman of middle-age and dark hair poised a rifle towards him. Chizu saw the uniform, several striped markings along the shoulder blades. Ovan. Perhaps the one who I'd been expecting.

Field Marshal Chizu Fubertas could only smile. “I am Field Marshal Chizu Fubertas. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lizara Johannesink. You're here to kill me...”

---

Lizara was puzzled. Not only was this Field Marshal simply strange. He was unfazed by their entrance. As if somebody's told him already.

She stood poised. Her men formed along her flank, ready to act. “Whatever you're holding. Drop it!”

He lifted the case. “Oh, this thing?” The Marshal was unfazed. “Here, you have it, then.”

Lizara and her men exchanged a look. “Sergeant Timoth.”

Slowly, Sergeant Timoth advanced toward the Marshal. Lizara could almost sense mistrust emanating from the Field Marshal. He's our ordered target. By now he should be dead. But a feeling tugged at her... something odd. Was this right?

The Sergeant snatched the case and rushed back towards Lizara's line. And yet, the Field Marshal remained unmoving. His eyes dark yet glowing. And Lizara saw that there was no hate in the man's eyes. Only determination. And for what? We have the drop on him.

“You think you've won their trust because of a citation? For someone who has always been steps ahead of their contractors and foes, I'd have expected more from you, Johannesink. You may have fought with and against Draganisia and Oceania in the past and present. Yet, you still don't understand their games. A mercenary's life is no laughing matter to them. It's a threat.”

“I'm a threat you say, but they still hired me.”

“Desperation creates monsters. Desperation creates reluctance. General Evelyn Llescas has no intention of keeping your forces alive after this war ends. With what you've done. What you know. This war ends, it'll all go quiet for you. Trust me on that, because she'll make certain you never return home.

“We Anarchians are not your foe. There is something far deeper within the ranks of both sides that you have yet to know. You think General Evelyn Llescas acts alone? No... there's far many more like her. You can help us.”

Lizara laughed. “Help you? We barely even know eachother.”

“And yet I know this. Your love for a family has always transcended anything else in your life. Even this life of a mercenary. You thought your sister was the last, Commander... aye for you perhaps. But one more still lives. And she's in the cause.”

Lizara's eyed peaked. “You...”

“One sister might be lost. Another still remains. One you hate. But she is family nonetheless, no?”

“I was never close to her.”

The Field Marshal only stared. “Why keep it that way then? Johannesink. This is not your fight here in Draganisia. These orders. The people who believe you only as a resource. You know all this. Why let yourself be manipulated.”

Lizara saw through the darkness. She knew what he spoke of was nearing truth. General Llescas had been there since the beginning of their campaign. When they had crossed into Draganisia. Fighting tooth and nail through every inch of Draganisian territory. Constantly harassed on the march and the road. The burning fields. Forests. Entire towns empty and void. Snowfall drowning hundreds of troops beneath. Yet, her sister and Lizara had survived it all.

Then she remembered General Evelyn Llescas. Staring at them both. When Dianica had fallen and was bloody and broken. General Evelyn Llescas had seen it all. When Dianica had charged forth into the enemy. When the General Evelyn had roused all the soldiers to break free from the barn, no matter what. But was Llescas true to her word? Did she really care?

“Your sister, Dianica, she could have lived Johannesink. What General Llescas did was... tactically wrong. The march of death you were all forced into. I know the truth of it.

“She meant for your sister to die. That had been the plan. To keep you in line for whatever plans... or coverups she had to pull off.

“This isn't just my war. Or Leuthen's war. It's a war for true justice. A war for a final peace. You've never seen peace.”

Lizara's head was spinning. Lies... Lies... Lies. Yet, there was truth. Dianica. “And who says I mean to.”

“Everyone. I see it. Your men see it. You desire peace as much as you deny it. These are games for the Draganisians, Commander Johannesink. They seek your benefit only to strap you onto a chair and leave you to drown when it no longer benefits them. They fight for a cause. So do we. Only our cause is different as all are.”

Dianica. “And why should I fight with your cause?”

“Because there are those that mean your older sister harm. Your nation harm. She fights with us not to benefit our cause but to save her nation. There's threats looming in the darkness. A conspiracy that your contractors are partaking and unaware about. Commander Johannesink, your men and your forces may mean the difference between life and death for thousands of others. And not only that, save your last sister.”

Lies... Lies... Lies. Traitors. Fools. I've been a fool... This assassination. It wasn't for military purposes. It wasn't warranted for strategy. It was a fool's gamble. A General Llescas that was seeking the disruption of everything. He said there were more.

“Who's doing this?”

“Someone you know very little about.” The Marshal stepped forward towards her. Her men kept their weapons raised. “I see fear. Do you think I'm lying still? Or have you begun to trust me?”

She sensed the truth. She sensed despair. Lizara was dipping her head into chaos or peace. “If I say I trust you, what is it you want?”

The Field Marshal’s eyes glowered. “Do what you know best. Kill the culprits.” His hands beckoned towards the case held in the palms of Sergeant Timoth. “And take that case.”

---

“...Kill the culprits. And take that case.”

“Commander Johannesink!”

Jesse and Gladius entered into the commotion of the East Wing office. Jesse’s eyes were peeled at what he saw… The Medallion!

Gladius stepped forward in front of Johannesink. He was poised towards the intruder inside the office. “You are no General Commander. General Fubertas?”

“Field Marshal now. For the Anarchian Union of Oceania.”

“And yet you were always a quiet one in the military peerage. Or was it due to your service to Nicholas Vinski?”

The Field Marshal’s face showed nothing, Jesse saw. “I’m not the only one with services to regret. Call me a liar, now. A traitor. A turncoat. It doesn’t change the state of conflict between us. Your Emperor wants something. Our General Commander too. Only one of us, though, is fighting for the future.”

Gladius positioned his face straight ahead of the Marshal. “Who says the past is not worth fighting for? We can always rectify it.”

“Aye. Who will benefit more, though? You or us?”

The Medallion shone almost as a beacon of light. Emanating light that Jesse had never seen in so long. It’s incredible. He now knew the dangers of it though. Gladius was right. This could not fall into the hands of the Leuthenists. “Enough of this, talk. Commander Johannesink, permit your man to give the Medallion to us. It is a possession of the Emperor of Draganisia.”

Just before the Commander Johannesink could open her mouth… Field Marshal Fubertas spat at Gladius. “You think yourselves safe. You believed my presence here meant it was the General Commander. Who do you think leaked it?”

Jesse’s focus on the Medallion dissipated for a moment. “Excuse me, Marshal. You say we were lied to?”

“What else? You tell me, Prince Jesse.”

Jesse ignored the jab. “Who?

“You’ll have to find out yourself. A fifth column is brewing, Prince Jesse. Can you really trust those you believe are fighting on your side? They know your every move. Our every move. They hate what we’ve become.” His head turned towards the Medallion. “By the end of this. Your Medallion won’t be in your possession. And I’ll be gone from your grasps.”

Commander Johannesink stood frozen throughout the latest exchange. “Sergeant Timoth. I’d suggest giving the case to the Prince here… it is theirs after all.”

Timoth nodded and handed it over to Jesse himself. It still glittered and shone as a star would above the heavens. It was beautiful… and dangerous. “Thank you, Sergeant. Delta One-Two, it best we move then. Take the Marshal with us.”

As they strode out of the East Wing and formed alongside eachother. Jesse glanced at the Commander Johannesink. She seemed dazed, a few tears built up along the edges of her eyes. “Commander, you alright?” He could sense her distress again. “What’d the Marshal say?”

“Enough. He spoke of my life. He knows about it.”

“He’ll be gone soon enough. As for your and your men’s citations. I will keep my word on it.”

“Thank you… Prince. But that won’t be necessary.”

Jesse cocked his head. “How come?”

“I intend to leave Draganisia immediately. Contract or not. I do not intend to stick around in service to General Evelyn Llescas for much longer, nor do I wish to contract with Draganisia. We are done.” Her eyes showed a contrast, however. She was fighting something… within. “I apologize for this. It is a breach, but I must have it done. The Goldsink Security League is finished here.”

“I… understand. I won’t press it further, Commander. Once we reach the throne room we’ll be on our way back to safe lines.”

They passed entire groups of troops celebrating their victory. Resting. Drinking. Draganisian, Oceanic, Stonehollese, etc. The banners of the Draganisian Alliance were raised across the Palace. The East Colonnades were bustling with soldiers cheering but glancing at their crossing as the Goldsink men and Jesse and Gladius were hauling the Field Marshal away.

“Remember my words, Prince Jesse. Remember them.”

“Shut up,” Gladius said. “Keep walking.”

The throne room was almost empty. There were two members of the Steel Wolves lying about along the pillars, talking. When the Goldsinks and the two Deltas entered, they immediately saluted them. “What this?” one of them asked.

“A prisoner. The Field Marshal Chizu Fubertas.” Prince Jesse motioned them forward. “Help us take him to General Llescas.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gladius glanced at Jesse then at Johannesink and the Goldsink men. “I hate to bring this up now but I’d rather we have more men before we go into the tunnels. We lose Fubertas we lose big.”

Jesse nodded. “Get back quickly.”

“I will.” Gladius was then off.

Moments passed within the hall. A throne a look away. Statues glaring at them with olden stony eyes. The Goldsinks chattered about, their rifles still tightly gripped. A couple of loose words were exchanged ear to ear. Johannesink remained stone cold, however. Light filtered between her eyes. Confusion. Despair. Jesse saw and said nothing.

The Marshal was now in his grip and so was the Medallion in the other. Two prizes. They had seized two huge factors in this war. The General Commander was nearing defeat now. Him being here doesn’t matter now. We have his top commander and his goals right here.

Commander Johannesink walked up to him. “It’s the same route through the tunnels right? The one we took to get in.”

“It should be,” Jesse stated. “Just through the opposite direction.”

“That’s good to know,” Johannesink said. “Good to know…

“I’m sorry.”

---

“...ships incoming at the harbor! We got a Level Three. All ground and air forces are to be ready for combat immediately!”

When he awoke he felt dazed and lightheaded. Jesse saw light… so much light peering through the sky. It was actual clouds he was seeing now. White.

“They got you good back there, Jesse.” It was Gladius. Jesse’s tension was eased. “They hit you on plate. No harm to you.”

“On plate?” The eroded moments before darkness came back. He remembered. “The Medallion!”

“They took it, Jesse. They took the damn Marshal too. All the Goldsinks fled from their positions with the Stonehollese. They crossed into the Anarchian frontlines with no problem. She betrayed us, that damn Johannesink.” Gladius lifted Jesse up to lean along a wall. “I was starting to like her.”

Lizara Johannesink. It seems the Marshal had gotten to her. Damn me. I couldn’t see it. “Can we find her?”

“Trust me I did everything I could. I’m pissed as much as you are. We fell into his plans.”

He’s right. We did fall into their trap. It wasn’t too late to fix it though. “He spoke of a leak. A fifth column. What do you think that is?”

“Whatever he spoke. I’m gonna say we put it on hold now Jesse.”

As Jesse looked around he continued to see soldiers running about and vehicles moving to an fro. He heard choppers above him too. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Long. His fleet’s here. About to give battle to the Anarchians. We’re ending their hold on the Draganisia City Harbor, Jesse.” He tossed a pistol that Jesse caught methodically. “Good. You’ve had your rest. Now let’s go. The war’s not over yet.”

Jesse agreed. For my son. For the Emperor. For Draganisia.

------

Promo for the Battle of Draganisia City Harbor

Leuthen: "He knew the duties that came with his position. I trust he'll know what to do next."

Search for Atlantis

James R. Kennedy had always been a man of insatiable curiosity and unyielding ambition. Born into the modest town of Iris, where the greatest adventure one could hope for was the changing of the seasons, James grew restless. The tales of old, stories of lost civilizations and lands filled with unimaginable wealth, had always sparked a fire in his heart. And so, with a heavy heart but a spirit filled with determination, James bid farewell to Iris, seeking the fortunes that lay beyond the familiar.

His quest led him to command the Allangoria, a sturdy ship manned by a crew as daring and dauntless as he. James sought the legendary Atlantis, a dream that danced on the horizon, always elusive but never fading. The journey was long and fraught with peril, but James’s resolve never wavered. Then, one fateful night, as the stars hid behind a cloak of darkness, a violent storm unlike any other struck with a vengeance.

The Allangoria, caught in the tempest’s wrath, was tossed about like a mere plaything. The howling wind and crashing waves conspired to obliterate their resolve. As the crew braced themselves for the possibility of abandoning their vessel to the merciless sea, James's heart was tormented by visions of failure. But amidst the chaos, a lookout's shout pierced the night, "Land ahead!"

James's heart leaped. Could it be? Had they been unwittingly guided to Atlantis by the storm’s cruel hand? As hope fluttered within his chest, the Allangoria fought valiantly against the storm's embrace, inching closer to salvation.

However, as dawn broke, revealing their refuge against the light of day, it became clear that this was no Atlantis. They had been cast upon the shores of St Abbaddon, a land whispered about in the corners of map rooms and sailor taverns—a place of mystery and untold danger.

The storm raged on, but the sight of land bolstered the crew's spirits and strength. James, quick to adapt and overcome, rallied his men. "We may not have found Atlantis, but we have found opportunity!" he proclaimed, his voice cutting through the storm's fury.

Under James’s command, the crew employed every bit of their seafaring skill to navigate the treacherous waters. They lowered the smaller boats, using them to tow the Allangoria closer to shore, coordinating their efforts through shouts and signals barely seen and heard over the storm.

With every inch gained, the storm's grip seemed to loosen, as if the land of St Abbaddon itself was pulling them into its embrace. Through sheer will and determination, the Allangoria and her crew made landfall, weary but unbroken.

As the storm dissipated, leaving behind a serene calm, James stood on the shores of St Abbaddon, his eyes scanning the horizon of this unknown land. Though he had not found what he initially sought, he realized that sometimes, the journey itself is the greatest treasure.

St Abbaddon, with its verdant landscapes and hidden secrets, promised new adventures and stories waiting to be written. James R. Kennedy, once a seeker of Atlantis, now stood as a pioneer on the brink of new discoveries. In St Abbaddon, he would forge a new destiny, not just for himself, but for all who dared to dream and venture beyond the horizon.

After how their last mission ended Jesse was pretty angry. Leuthenist forces were now in full retreat and soon Admiral Long would smash what was left of their fleet after the damage Jesse and Jake did to it earlier.

However that still didn’t help his mood. "We were so close but we lost him again!"

David. "It wasn't your fault. We have been getting reports of betrayals all over the place. Once again Leuthen is another step ahead."

Jesse. "How is that possible?"

Jesse's sister Alexis then entered the room. "Because he is with Victor. The one who also shot Jake during the attack on their fleet. "

Now Jesse needed to know the truth. "Who is he really?"

Princess Alexis, Head Scientist of Draganisia

“In times of crisis, people look to their leaders for answers, but ever since this war began it seems all I can offer are more questions. I hardly know where to start about him. Victor, the Dragon God of cunning and lies. Yet another of our father's brothers who went evil with their father Galen.”

“He was here with Makarov during his reign of terror attacks. But after the death of Makarov he went into hiding, not out of fear, of course, but out of strategy, because Victor knows the best way to beat your enemy... is to join them. In his greatest trick yet, he infiltrated Draganisia, weakened us from within and stole our most sacred resource — the one thing we thought he could never touch — The Light. The questions just keep piling up. And it seems the answers are buried within Rowandale in Leuthen's final Stronghold. I need someone to go in and dig them up. And by that I mean you Jesse. Rowandale has always been a nexus of power. I’d be shocked if his forces didn’t exploit that as often as possible. If my instincts are correct, what you find there could be just what we need to end this once and for all. Remember this Jesse: Victor and Leuthen’s strategy rests on knowing more than anyone else, on their abilities to twist lies and cast confusion… but now, we can turn the tables on them and finish this.”

Meanwhile David got a report from a scout. "Helena is gone. We spotted her with someone who we almost thought was Emperor Brian. He transformed into a Dragon and took her with him."

Jesse then remembered something that Leuthen told him in the past. ("It is all part of the plan. THE PLAN! Soon the universe... and your family... will die!")

Jesse knew the truth now. "He is looking for something. And believes she might be the key to unlocking something big."

Now David was angry. "What do you know?"

Jesse answered. "Everything! Including the fact you two were apparently set up together since birth. Did you even know that?"

David sighed and answered. "Yes. He told me right before my 18th birthday. Once we first met I knew there was some sort of connection between us but even now I still don't know exactly what it is."

Gladius knew the reason they would go there. "In order to wake up Bahamut they need to find the Guardian of his Tomb. Both of which are there. Rowandale... Leuthen's Final Stronghold. That is where you will find Helena and the Guardian she seeks!"

«12. . .334335336337

Advertisement