Satosuke
08-16-2005, 12:27 PM
Some of you know of the various false starts i have had making fanfiction. Well, i finally said screw it and have reworked all my ideas into an original story that's been brewing in my mind for a while now, but has only now been put into writing. The prolouge and chapter 1 are about 6 pages long, and more is definitely to come. I'll be posting the chapters as .doc attachments, makes it easier to scroll down the actual thread.
Feel free to lend any criticism, grammar errors, questions, cliche spottings, etc.
edit: Janks' proofreading applied. All mistakes corrected.
edit: Putting the text into my posts for those too lazy to download it.
Prolouge
On the continent of Gadelica, A society of scholars known as the Elders exists in service of Gadelica’s people. The society of the Elders was put in place after meaningless tensions erupted into a war between the 6 races of the continent:
The Angels, a chivalrous and honorable race of swordsmen and mages well versed in white magic; the Kyubi, Humanoid fox-like beings and natural born masters of ninjutsu and dark arts; the Dragons, a varied race of Wisemen, fighters, and wilders of elemental magic; the Elves, the greatest of wizards and defenders of nature; the Vampires, demon-like beings strengthed by darkness and blood; and the Humans, known for their unflagging tenacity, ingenious battle tactics, and enviable ingenuity.
The struggle for supremacy amongst these groups almost spelled doom for the land, until the leaders of each of the nations realized that this foolish war would only spawn even more fighting. So, they signed an armistice, and met in the Center City of Gadelica, Pendroth, the only neutral area on the continent. There, they solidified the formerly temporary peace via the creation of the society of Elders. This group, comprised of the greatest minds of each of the races, would legislate over the continent fairly and objectively even to today. And to further exemplify the strength of this peace, each of the races chose their one greatest warrior to form the guardians of the elders, strong-arms like never seen before.
The angels chose Turel, a modern day samurai, and creator of the feared Sakuretsu (explosion) fighting style. The kyubi chose Nari, their greatest ninja, who carried a coveted immunity to black magic. Of the dragons, the assassin known as Angelo, who had the rare ability of shape-shifting, was chosen. To represent the elves, Regina, a summoner of great magical capacity was picked. Of the humans, Kraden, a sword-wielder and master tactician, was chosen. And of the vampires, Phant, of the dreaded Hawk familiar, was their champion.
Unfortunately, from within the realm of the vampires, dissent brewed, and a group hell-bent on absorbing the blood, along with the powers, of the other races in order to rule over the continent, gained momentum....
The plane of the vampire’s reality engine was rapidly destabilizing, multicolored streaks of lighting ripping through the sky; the single floating platform of land in the plane throwing up sparks and growling like a hellish earthquake. Kraden charged at Phant, blade unsheathed, as the other four guardians were embroiled in conflict with Phant’s greatest familiars, the four horsemen. Kraden leaped into the air above Phant and turned his sword down, ready to drive it into Phant’s skull. With another burst of dark ki, Phant opened summoning vortexes in his palms and thrust them skyward. This shuddering blast projected a veritable army of crow familiars at Kraden. In a matter of microseconds, Kraden planned out countermeasures. He clutched the handle of his blade in his teeth and drew his machine pistol. Just as the two bodies of Kraden and the murder of crows made contact, Kraden dove headfirst into the fray, allowing himself to be cocooned by the birds. He then jerked his body sideways, causing him to spin rapidly. With the sword still in his mouth, it turned his head into a sickle of destruction, harvesting the guts and entrails of the crows. Whatever crows that escaped his spinning cranium of death were picked off by his gun. Kraden had defeated this onslaught, but not without suffering damage himself and expending too much energy via his last stunt. Kraden landed on his feet nary a meter from Phant’s face. Though they were exterminated, the crows had done their job, Nearly lacerating Kraden into submission. He struggled to keep himself on his feet as his jaw’s grip loosened on his sword, dropping it back into his hand. With what little strength he had left, he held his sword in front of Phant’s face.
“You still cannot win, Kraden.” Phant said coolly, unfazed by the blood-soaked blade before him.
“We’ll see about that.” was Kraden’s reply. Almost instantaneously, four more weapons pointed at Phant’s head; Turel’s scimitar, Nari’s jitte, Angelo’s claw, and Regina’s halberd.
“No! My horsemen!” Phant growled, rage and hopelessness mingling in his expression.
Phant was not convinced when he heard them say, "Give up and we'll show you some mercy." He returned, “No. This will not end here! In fact, with my magic, this is only the beginning!”
In a flash of movement, Phant expounded a force field that knocked the five guardians away from him, and began hurriedly chanting a spell, a swirling violet essence coalescing between his hands. The guardians tried to stop it, but they were too late. Phant yelled the last portion of his incantation and thrust his hands forward, enveloping the entire plane in a purple flash.
When the light receded, all six of them lay motionless on the floor, dead.
The curse of the endless battle had begun.
Chapter 1
The muggy, vapor-suffused night sky of A New Orleans forest was accented by a small house in the middle of the fog encasement. Windows illuminated by artificial incandescence could be seen, obscured by the cloudy air. Gruff figures with crew cuts, muscle shirts, and camouflage pants could also be observed, lazily strolling around the isolated grounds, Uzis in their hands.
From a distance away, another person was watching; a silent harbinger of their impending doom. The person was Evan, successor to the famed strategist Kraden.
“Alright,” Evan spoke into a headset, “Everyone in position?”
Four “Roger’s” came back to Evan’s earpiece. The four were the other successors to the guardians’ legacy; Akira, Karen, Ark, and Jana.
“Very good; ready to commence with mission!”
*-*-*
“Y’know, it’s kind of sad how so far into the future, we still have people like these extremist bastards.” Akira whispered, sneaking up to the back entrance of the pseudo-compound, Karen following close behind.
“I guess so,” she replied, “but at least it gives us an excuse to kill them.” She reached to her side and unholstered one of her .50 caliber desert eagles, ready to start firing. In turn, Akira slung his M4 carbine over his shoulder, and screwed on its silencer.
“Aki, Kar, let Ark take care of the perimeter. Go for it.” Evan said into his mic.
Nary was a second after the order given out before an odd blur appeared along the walls of the house, invisible to anyone not caring to stare intently at the dull grey stucco. The blur moved quickly and silently along the structure, towards its first victim. Then, forming behind the guard’s back, a figure partly oozed out of the distortion. It was Ark, the assassin/elementalist of the group. It was an odd combination of specialties, yes, but it seems to have been working so far. The orange scaled dragon, cloaked in black at the moment, flicked out his hand, and threw a needle at the back of the guard’s head, almost instantly subduing the target as he fell quietly to the ground. Ark then returned to his stealthy wall crawling, and ten seconds later, Ark’s voice chimed in, “Perimeter clear.”
“Alright, let’s make this quick and clean, okay?” Evan said, “We’re here for the gun cores, and any information connecting these guys to the VN. Deadly force is allowed, but captives are of more use than corpses.”
With this final commencement, the five soldiers stalked toward the stone-colored building.
In the lowest level of the compound, an odd little man was fawning over a .45 ACP in his hands, his horn-rimmed glasses, thick mustache, and short, stocky build giving him a deceptively non-threatening visage. The odd character pointed the pistol at a crudely painted bull’s-eye target on the wall, and fired repeatedly. It went past its 7 round capacity, and still fired bullets at the target, much to his surprise and delight. After this miraculous occurrence, the mustached man removed the magazine from the gun and grinned.
“I wouldn’t have believed it until now, that something like this gun core could exist.” He said, examining the clip, a faint blue glow emanating from the gaps in its casing.
“It’s still not clear how they work, but from what we can tell, it’s a concentrated core of energy that can be made to convert into a semi-matter. It’s mostly a matter of carving its crystalline form the right way so that the energy is refracted into the barrel of the gun in a form closely resembling a bullet. Our tests so far have yielded an average of 200 shots for a .45 caliber firearm.” said the 2nd occupant of the small, empty room; his long grey hair and red eyes and robes a stark contrast to the mustached man. “So, Mr. Mortinson, does the Vampire Nation have your allegiance, in exchange for more of these gun cores, and eventually, control of this country?” he continued, leading with his hand to a large silver crate next to him.
“Of course! This is an offer we simply cannot refuse!” said a now very happy guerilla leader. His celebration was cut short however; as an Uzi-toting grunt appeared on the CCTV monitor in the room, panic across his face.
“Master Mortinson! Sir Valdama! Gunfire has broken out in the upper levels!” his static-laden voice conveyed, “Surveillance leads us to believe it’s the guardians!”
“Fucking hell!” Yelled Mortinson, “I’m betting that they’re here for the gun cores! Tell all personnel to occupy and guard the 2nd basement down to here!” The grunt nodded and left the view of the monitor, pulling out his radio to relay the desperate orders.
Two more soldiers fell under Akira’s carbine as he and Karen rounded another corner of the hallway leading to the building’s inner sanctum. The hallway was square, the path on an incline slowly descending further underground. Every step they made and every bullet they fired, resonated off the barren metal surroundings, so the pair resolved to work as quickly and as quietly as possible, Akira double-checking the suppressor on his rifle, and Karen avoiding her handcannons altogether, though this made her no less dangerous. Akira glanced over next in this endless series of corners, and found 3 guards marching towards their position, sawn-off shotguns and fragmentation grenades complimenting their SMGs.
“I think they know we’re here,” Akira muttered, readying himself to turn the corner.
“Wait,” Karen interjected, “I’ll take care of this.” She then willed a small violet sphere of energy into her paw. Silently, she mouthed the words to a spell and crushed the energy ball in her paws. Out came a thick black cloud that floated in front of Karen, coalescing into a shadow clone of the Ninja. A consecutive spell formed a shadow copy of Akira. Then the two moved behind their doppelganger images, imprinting the forms onto them like a shadowy bodysuit. With ethereal shielding intact, the two rolled out into view of the opposing force. And time was still for a split second, and the soldiers fired. The two shadowy shells lurched back and dissipated into nothing, stopping the shotgun pellets in their tracks. With this instantaneous window of opportunity, Akira sent a 3-bullet burst into a guards face, a fountain of blood and viscera blasting out of the back of his head. Karen took the other two guards with her endless supply of shadowed throwing knives. Two of them streaked towards the left shoulders of the two guards...where their grenades were. Akira’s eyes bugged as the blades connected with the explosives, setting them off. He had barely enough time to drop to the ground and cover his head as the two remaining guards, complete with grenades and ammunition, detonated, bits of flesh, bone, and shrapnel going every which way.
“Holy hell, Karen!” Akira shouted, wiping charred Debris off his now meat and ash flecked silk overcoat, “I thought we agreed to keep quiet!”
“You saw what they had Aki-kun,” Karen replied with a grin, “They obviously know we’re here if they’re packing that much heat, so what’s the use of stealth?”
Akira sighed, “Well, it doesn’t matter now; I can hear a dozen or so more of them running to greet us.”
“Alright! More target practice!” Karen said, drawing her pistols.
“You’d think they could be less subtle.” Ark grumbled sarcastically as the shockwaves of an explosion reverberated throughout the complex.
“Well, at least it gives us the diversion we needed.” Jana interjected, as she and Ark snuck their way to the control room. “Hopefully they’ll draw the majority of the troops.”
“I almost feel sorry for those grunts.”
“Yeah, almost. Then we realize that they’re just going to waste anyway.”
Ark let out a quick grunt of concurrence as they found their target: a giant, stone grey door outlined with the requisite yellow and black stripe paint signifying a restricted area. It was unguarded due to the urgent commands of their leader, so Ark and Jana were able to walk right up to the security panel keeping the door shut. With professional efficiency, Ark pulled out his decoder, sliced the security device open, threw around the wires, and in less than 30 seconds, the gate began to separate. In their rush, they had forgotten the possibility of guards behind the door, as was the case. The loud pops of their Uzis prompted the hasty retreat of the two, as they jumped to the sides of the door, pulling out their own weapons, a TMP machine pistol, and an automatic shotgun, respectively.
“Oh, real smooth, Ark!” Jana yelled over the guards’ gunfire.
“That’s not helping the situation, Jana!” Ark shouted back, holding a ball of fire in his hand.
“Hmm...Good idea,” was Jana’s reply.
“Count of three...2...1...go!”
At that moment, Ark threw the flaming sphere into the air, and Jana directed a summoned gust of wind at it. The ensuing clash of elements exploded into a twirling, snaking torrent of fire, with sheer force enough to throw their adversaries back a few meters. With another flick of her hand, Jana jumped out to face the guards, fully in control of this whirlwind. The guards literally emptied their clips firing at her, but the blazing coil easily consumed the bullets, adding a deadly layer of liquid lead to it. With a menacing grin and a flick of the hand, the four sentries could not even yell in pain as the fire almost instantly vaporized their flesh, leaving four charred skeletons in its wake.
“Well,” said Ark, stepping over blackened remains, “That was effective, no?”
“Dammit!” Shouted Mortinson into his radio, “What the hell is going on up there!?”
“We can’t stop them...killed too many...almost here...oh fu-” And static took over. Mortinson, in a fit of rage, threw his receiver across the room, a loud bang resonating in the small room as it impacted the wall, cracking and shattering into jagged plastic chunks.
“I guess you wish to complete trade negotiations with us at a later date?” Valdama said coolly.
“I guess so. Those bastards have killed just about every soldier I have here, taking a good fraction of all my troops around the world. I’ll need time to regroup. Fortunately, the guardians won’t be getting in here. Only I and my level S clearance coding can unlock the door to this ro-”
His words were cut short as a deafening boom sent the metal reinforced door flying off its hinges, seared iron and steel still red hot along the places where the door should have been touching the wall, and in jumped Akira and Karen. Mortinson scrambled to his feet and drew his .45, still housing the gun core. Seeing the firearm pointed at him, Akira quickly brought his still sheathed katana over his shoulder, sending the scabbard flying in Mortinson’s direction. A flurry of bullets from Mortinson knocked the spinning object away, but gave Akira the upper hand, as he dashed to his left, angled himself back at Mortinson, and charged again, bringing his blade down on his torso. Mortinson Groaned in pain as he dropped his gun and fell to his knees, crimson flowing heavily from the shallow diagonal gash across his gut. A swift kick to his face brought the now unconscious Mortinson to the floor.
“Target has been neutralized. Mission accomplished.” Akira spoke plainly into his earpiece as he bent down to pick up his scabbard and put away his sword. Karen glanced around the dully colored room for a quick second before chiming in “Looks all clear. Let’s move out and leave the rest for the Marines. They should be arriving any second.”
That moment, a figure appeared on the wall; the red cloaked Valdama. Before Akira or Karen could react, Valdama threw himself at her, two large knives in his hands. The daggers hit home in Karen’s back, as she gasped, coughing up blood, the tips pointing out of her abdomen.
“Shit! Karen!” Akira screamed, grabbing onto his M4 and pointing it at Valdama’s head.
“How pathetic.” Valdama laughed, retracting his knives, now holding the dying Taofox by the throat. “I expected much more from a guardian.”
Akira’s look of fearful panic suddenly warped to a devilish smile, “You haven’t seen anything yet, vampire.”
Valdama’s gaze narrowed at Akira, and suddenly, Karen’s lifeless body began laughing too, just before disintegrating into violet smog. It was too late for the vampire, as the smog encircled him. He clawed at the dark cloud with futility, as it permeated his airways, choking him into submission.
“Da...damn...you...guardian.” He wheezed as he struggled to remain on his feet, ultimately blacking out.
The real Karen then materialized through the purplish fog, a cross look on her face.
“I don’t think you sold it enough.” She commented, hoisting the zonked out Valdama over her shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it really matters much when your enemy doesn’t know we’re involved. Besides, your illusions don’t really need much more to look realistic.”
“Aki-kun, save the ass kissing for the bedroom, alright?”
Somewhere else at that present time, within what seemed to be a different dimension, a figure sat on an ornate throne of polished oak and cedar. The equipment in front of the figure, various screens and keypads, stood out in stark contrast to the chair’s wooden finish, making the scene look slightly absurd.
“So, the fledgling guardians have taken Valdama and the Crimson Taurus’ leader. I am quite impressed. But will your efforts be enough to even stand against the one that killed your predecessors? This ensuing war shall amuse me to no end...”
Feel free to lend any criticism, grammar errors, questions, cliche spottings, etc.
edit: Janks' proofreading applied. All mistakes corrected.
edit: Putting the text into my posts for those too lazy to download it.
Prolouge
On the continent of Gadelica, A society of scholars known as the Elders exists in service of Gadelica’s people. The society of the Elders was put in place after meaningless tensions erupted into a war between the 6 races of the continent:
The Angels, a chivalrous and honorable race of swordsmen and mages well versed in white magic; the Kyubi, Humanoid fox-like beings and natural born masters of ninjutsu and dark arts; the Dragons, a varied race of Wisemen, fighters, and wilders of elemental magic; the Elves, the greatest of wizards and defenders of nature; the Vampires, demon-like beings strengthed by darkness and blood; and the Humans, known for their unflagging tenacity, ingenious battle tactics, and enviable ingenuity.
The struggle for supremacy amongst these groups almost spelled doom for the land, until the leaders of each of the nations realized that this foolish war would only spawn even more fighting. So, they signed an armistice, and met in the Center City of Gadelica, Pendroth, the only neutral area on the continent. There, they solidified the formerly temporary peace via the creation of the society of Elders. This group, comprised of the greatest minds of each of the races, would legislate over the continent fairly and objectively even to today. And to further exemplify the strength of this peace, each of the races chose their one greatest warrior to form the guardians of the elders, strong-arms like never seen before.
The angels chose Turel, a modern day samurai, and creator of the feared Sakuretsu (explosion) fighting style. The kyubi chose Nari, their greatest ninja, who carried a coveted immunity to black magic. Of the dragons, the assassin known as Angelo, who had the rare ability of shape-shifting, was chosen. To represent the elves, Regina, a summoner of great magical capacity was picked. Of the humans, Kraden, a sword-wielder and master tactician, was chosen. And of the vampires, Phant, of the dreaded Hawk familiar, was their champion.
Unfortunately, from within the realm of the vampires, dissent brewed, and a group hell-bent on absorbing the blood, along with the powers, of the other races in order to rule over the continent, gained momentum....
The plane of the vampire’s reality engine was rapidly destabilizing, multicolored streaks of lighting ripping through the sky; the single floating platform of land in the plane throwing up sparks and growling like a hellish earthquake. Kraden charged at Phant, blade unsheathed, as the other four guardians were embroiled in conflict with Phant’s greatest familiars, the four horsemen. Kraden leaped into the air above Phant and turned his sword down, ready to drive it into Phant’s skull. With another burst of dark ki, Phant opened summoning vortexes in his palms and thrust them skyward. This shuddering blast projected a veritable army of crow familiars at Kraden. In a matter of microseconds, Kraden planned out countermeasures. He clutched the handle of his blade in his teeth and drew his machine pistol. Just as the two bodies of Kraden and the murder of crows made contact, Kraden dove headfirst into the fray, allowing himself to be cocooned by the birds. He then jerked his body sideways, causing him to spin rapidly. With the sword still in his mouth, it turned his head into a sickle of destruction, harvesting the guts and entrails of the crows. Whatever crows that escaped his spinning cranium of death were picked off by his gun. Kraden had defeated this onslaught, but not without suffering damage himself and expending too much energy via his last stunt. Kraden landed on his feet nary a meter from Phant’s face. Though they were exterminated, the crows had done their job, Nearly lacerating Kraden into submission. He struggled to keep himself on his feet as his jaw’s grip loosened on his sword, dropping it back into his hand. With what little strength he had left, he held his sword in front of Phant’s face.
“You still cannot win, Kraden.” Phant said coolly, unfazed by the blood-soaked blade before him.
“We’ll see about that.” was Kraden’s reply. Almost instantaneously, four more weapons pointed at Phant’s head; Turel’s scimitar, Nari’s jitte, Angelo’s claw, and Regina’s halberd.
“No! My horsemen!” Phant growled, rage and hopelessness mingling in his expression.
Phant was not convinced when he heard them say, "Give up and we'll show you some mercy." He returned, “No. This will not end here! In fact, with my magic, this is only the beginning!”
In a flash of movement, Phant expounded a force field that knocked the five guardians away from him, and began hurriedly chanting a spell, a swirling violet essence coalescing between his hands. The guardians tried to stop it, but they were too late. Phant yelled the last portion of his incantation and thrust his hands forward, enveloping the entire plane in a purple flash.
When the light receded, all six of them lay motionless on the floor, dead.
The curse of the endless battle had begun.
Chapter 1
The muggy, vapor-suffused night sky of A New Orleans forest was accented by a small house in the middle of the fog encasement. Windows illuminated by artificial incandescence could be seen, obscured by the cloudy air. Gruff figures with crew cuts, muscle shirts, and camouflage pants could also be observed, lazily strolling around the isolated grounds, Uzis in their hands.
From a distance away, another person was watching; a silent harbinger of their impending doom. The person was Evan, successor to the famed strategist Kraden.
“Alright,” Evan spoke into a headset, “Everyone in position?”
Four “Roger’s” came back to Evan’s earpiece. The four were the other successors to the guardians’ legacy; Akira, Karen, Ark, and Jana.
“Very good; ready to commence with mission!”
*-*-*
“Y’know, it’s kind of sad how so far into the future, we still have people like these extremist bastards.” Akira whispered, sneaking up to the back entrance of the pseudo-compound, Karen following close behind.
“I guess so,” she replied, “but at least it gives us an excuse to kill them.” She reached to her side and unholstered one of her .50 caliber desert eagles, ready to start firing. In turn, Akira slung his M4 carbine over his shoulder, and screwed on its silencer.
“Aki, Kar, let Ark take care of the perimeter. Go for it.” Evan said into his mic.
Nary was a second after the order given out before an odd blur appeared along the walls of the house, invisible to anyone not caring to stare intently at the dull grey stucco. The blur moved quickly and silently along the structure, towards its first victim. Then, forming behind the guard’s back, a figure partly oozed out of the distortion. It was Ark, the assassin/elementalist of the group. It was an odd combination of specialties, yes, but it seems to have been working so far. The orange scaled dragon, cloaked in black at the moment, flicked out his hand, and threw a needle at the back of the guard’s head, almost instantly subduing the target as he fell quietly to the ground. Ark then returned to his stealthy wall crawling, and ten seconds later, Ark’s voice chimed in, “Perimeter clear.”
“Alright, let’s make this quick and clean, okay?” Evan said, “We’re here for the gun cores, and any information connecting these guys to the VN. Deadly force is allowed, but captives are of more use than corpses.”
With this final commencement, the five soldiers stalked toward the stone-colored building.
In the lowest level of the compound, an odd little man was fawning over a .45 ACP in his hands, his horn-rimmed glasses, thick mustache, and short, stocky build giving him a deceptively non-threatening visage. The odd character pointed the pistol at a crudely painted bull’s-eye target on the wall, and fired repeatedly. It went past its 7 round capacity, and still fired bullets at the target, much to his surprise and delight. After this miraculous occurrence, the mustached man removed the magazine from the gun and grinned.
“I wouldn’t have believed it until now, that something like this gun core could exist.” He said, examining the clip, a faint blue glow emanating from the gaps in its casing.
“It’s still not clear how they work, but from what we can tell, it’s a concentrated core of energy that can be made to convert into a semi-matter. It’s mostly a matter of carving its crystalline form the right way so that the energy is refracted into the barrel of the gun in a form closely resembling a bullet. Our tests so far have yielded an average of 200 shots for a .45 caliber firearm.” said the 2nd occupant of the small, empty room; his long grey hair and red eyes and robes a stark contrast to the mustached man. “So, Mr. Mortinson, does the Vampire Nation have your allegiance, in exchange for more of these gun cores, and eventually, control of this country?” he continued, leading with his hand to a large silver crate next to him.
“Of course! This is an offer we simply cannot refuse!” said a now very happy guerilla leader. His celebration was cut short however; as an Uzi-toting grunt appeared on the CCTV monitor in the room, panic across his face.
“Master Mortinson! Sir Valdama! Gunfire has broken out in the upper levels!” his static-laden voice conveyed, “Surveillance leads us to believe it’s the guardians!”
“Fucking hell!” Yelled Mortinson, “I’m betting that they’re here for the gun cores! Tell all personnel to occupy and guard the 2nd basement down to here!” The grunt nodded and left the view of the monitor, pulling out his radio to relay the desperate orders.
Two more soldiers fell under Akira’s carbine as he and Karen rounded another corner of the hallway leading to the building’s inner sanctum. The hallway was square, the path on an incline slowly descending further underground. Every step they made and every bullet they fired, resonated off the barren metal surroundings, so the pair resolved to work as quickly and as quietly as possible, Akira double-checking the suppressor on his rifle, and Karen avoiding her handcannons altogether, though this made her no less dangerous. Akira glanced over next in this endless series of corners, and found 3 guards marching towards their position, sawn-off shotguns and fragmentation grenades complimenting their SMGs.
“I think they know we’re here,” Akira muttered, readying himself to turn the corner.
“Wait,” Karen interjected, “I’ll take care of this.” She then willed a small violet sphere of energy into her paw. Silently, she mouthed the words to a spell and crushed the energy ball in her paws. Out came a thick black cloud that floated in front of Karen, coalescing into a shadow clone of the Ninja. A consecutive spell formed a shadow copy of Akira. Then the two moved behind their doppelganger images, imprinting the forms onto them like a shadowy bodysuit. With ethereal shielding intact, the two rolled out into view of the opposing force. And time was still for a split second, and the soldiers fired. The two shadowy shells lurched back and dissipated into nothing, stopping the shotgun pellets in their tracks. With this instantaneous window of opportunity, Akira sent a 3-bullet burst into a guards face, a fountain of blood and viscera blasting out of the back of his head. Karen took the other two guards with her endless supply of shadowed throwing knives. Two of them streaked towards the left shoulders of the two guards...where their grenades were. Akira’s eyes bugged as the blades connected with the explosives, setting them off. He had barely enough time to drop to the ground and cover his head as the two remaining guards, complete with grenades and ammunition, detonated, bits of flesh, bone, and shrapnel going every which way.
“Holy hell, Karen!” Akira shouted, wiping charred Debris off his now meat and ash flecked silk overcoat, “I thought we agreed to keep quiet!”
“You saw what they had Aki-kun,” Karen replied with a grin, “They obviously know we’re here if they’re packing that much heat, so what’s the use of stealth?”
Akira sighed, “Well, it doesn’t matter now; I can hear a dozen or so more of them running to greet us.”
“Alright! More target practice!” Karen said, drawing her pistols.
“You’d think they could be less subtle.” Ark grumbled sarcastically as the shockwaves of an explosion reverberated throughout the complex.
“Well, at least it gives us the diversion we needed.” Jana interjected, as she and Ark snuck their way to the control room. “Hopefully they’ll draw the majority of the troops.”
“I almost feel sorry for those grunts.”
“Yeah, almost. Then we realize that they’re just going to waste anyway.”
Ark let out a quick grunt of concurrence as they found their target: a giant, stone grey door outlined with the requisite yellow and black stripe paint signifying a restricted area. It was unguarded due to the urgent commands of their leader, so Ark and Jana were able to walk right up to the security panel keeping the door shut. With professional efficiency, Ark pulled out his decoder, sliced the security device open, threw around the wires, and in less than 30 seconds, the gate began to separate. In their rush, they had forgotten the possibility of guards behind the door, as was the case. The loud pops of their Uzis prompted the hasty retreat of the two, as they jumped to the sides of the door, pulling out their own weapons, a TMP machine pistol, and an automatic shotgun, respectively.
“Oh, real smooth, Ark!” Jana yelled over the guards’ gunfire.
“That’s not helping the situation, Jana!” Ark shouted back, holding a ball of fire in his hand.
“Hmm...Good idea,” was Jana’s reply.
“Count of three...2...1...go!”
At that moment, Ark threw the flaming sphere into the air, and Jana directed a summoned gust of wind at it. The ensuing clash of elements exploded into a twirling, snaking torrent of fire, with sheer force enough to throw their adversaries back a few meters. With another flick of her hand, Jana jumped out to face the guards, fully in control of this whirlwind. The guards literally emptied their clips firing at her, but the blazing coil easily consumed the bullets, adding a deadly layer of liquid lead to it. With a menacing grin and a flick of the hand, the four sentries could not even yell in pain as the fire almost instantly vaporized their flesh, leaving four charred skeletons in its wake.
“Well,” said Ark, stepping over blackened remains, “That was effective, no?”
“Dammit!” Shouted Mortinson into his radio, “What the hell is going on up there!?”
“We can’t stop them...killed too many...almost here...oh fu-” And static took over. Mortinson, in a fit of rage, threw his receiver across the room, a loud bang resonating in the small room as it impacted the wall, cracking and shattering into jagged plastic chunks.
“I guess you wish to complete trade negotiations with us at a later date?” Valdama said coolly.
“I guess so. Those bastards have killed just about every soldier I have here, taking a good fraction of all my troops around the world. I’ll need time to regroup. Fortunately, the guardians won’t be getting in here. Only I and my level S clearance coding can unlock the door to this ro-”
His words were cut short as a deafening boom sent the metal reinforced door flying off its hinges, seared iron and steel still red hot along the places where the door should have been touching the wall, and in jumped Akira and Karen. Mortinson scrambled to his feet and drew his .45, still housing the gun core. Seeing the firearm pointed at him, Akira quickly brought his still sheathed katana over his shoulder, sending the scabbard flying in Mortinson’s direction. A flurry of bullets from Mortinson knocked the spinning object away, but gave Akira the upper hand, as he dashed to his left, angled himself back at Mortinson, and charged again, bringing his blade down on his torso. Mortinson Groaned in pain as he dropped his gun and fell to his knees, crimson flowing heavily from the shallow diagonal gash across his gut. A swift kick to his face brought the now unconscious Mortinson to the floor.
“Target has been neutralized. Mission accomplished.” Akira spoke plainly into his earpiece as he bent down to pick up his scabbard and put away his sword. Karen glanced around the dully colored room for a quick second before chiming in “Looks all clear. Let’s move out and leave the rest for the Marines. They should be arriving any second.”
That moment, a figure appeared on the wall; the red cloaked Valdama. Before Akira or Karen could react, Valdama threw himself at her, two large knives in his hands. The daggers hit home in Karen’s back, as she gasped, coughing up blood, the tips pointing out of her abdomen.
“Shit! Karen!” Akira screamed, grabbing onto his M4 and pointing it at Valdama’s head.
“How pathetic.” Valdama laughed, retracting his knives, now holding the dying Taofox by the throat. “I expected much more from a guardian.”
Akira’s look of fearful panic suddenly warped to a devilish smile, “You haven’t seen anything yet, vampire.”
Valdama’s gaze narrowed at Akira, and suddenly, Karen’s lifeless body began laughing too, just before disintegrating into violet smog. It was too late for the vampire, as the smog encircled him. He clawed at the dark cloud with futility, as it permeated his airways, choking him into submission.
“Da...damn...you...guardian.” He wheezed as he struggled to remain on his feet, ultimately blacking out.
The real Karen then materialized through the purplish fog, a cross look on her face.
“I don’t think you sold it enough.” She commented, hoisting the zonked out Valdama over her shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it really matters much when your enemy doesn’t know we’re involved. Besides, your illusions don’t really need much more to look realistic.”
“Aki-kun, save the ass kissing for the bedroom, alright?”
Somewhere else at that present time, within what seemed to be a different dimension, a figure sat on an ornate throne of polished oak and cedar. The equipment in front of the figure, various screens and keypads, stood out in stark contrast to the chair’s wooden finish, making the scene look slightly absurd.
“So, the fledgling guardians have taken Valdama and the Crimson Taurus’ leader. I am quite impressed. But will your efforts be enough to even stand against the one that killed your predecessors? This ensuing war shall amuse me to no end...”