#bsrc

New York City, NY

May 2018

New York City, The Big Apple, it is said that “if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.” However that only applies to the rich and famous or anyone willing to do what it takes to succeed, sadly leaving everyone else to fend for themselves in a beautiful yet cutthroat world. These thoughts often circulated in the mind of Agent Jack Miller, an average built man dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, and a coat to beat the chill, as he sat on a bench in Washington Square Park. It was nighttime, but the city lights made it seem like day, fitting for The City that Never Sleeps. There was little time for taking in sites as a voice came over Jack’s earpiece.

“Hey Jack, got anything?” A male voice asked.

“No, not a single hide or hair yet.” Jack responded.

“How do we know if he’s even gonna show?”

“He was in Union Square last night, Madison Square Park the night before, and on his last call he mentioned meeting a guy at the Arch facing 5th Ave. The only Arch facing 5th Ave is the one in Washington Square.” Jack explained as he scanned his surroundings. There were a few people walking here and there; a tourist taking pictures of the sites, a few couples walking through the plaza, and of course groups of teens taking selfies with the Arch before the park closed in 30 minutes but none of them were his quarry. Barely ten minutes after the park closed, a shadowy figure darted from behind the trees, hiding for a split second before diving to the nearest object to hide behind. When the coast was clear the figure, who was wearing a long hooded coat, strolled quickly to the shadow of the Arch. Jack watched as the hooded figure paced in a nervous manner, hiding his hands inside the sleeves, and a long hairless tail snaked behind him along the ground. The male voice returned into Jack’s earpiece;

“Should we move in?”

“Not until we see the person he’s meeting, get a Peep in there, I want to see and hear what is happening.” Jack ordered quietly.

An agent posing as a photographer pointed his camera at the Arch, hitting a button on the side to deploy a low profile collapsible barrel beside the long zoom lens. He aimed a couple body lengths above the pacing person and fired. The dart sailed silently through the air, the piercing thunk as it embedded into the stonework was covered by a blaring car horn and was unnoticed by the pacing person. At the end of this tungsten tipped dart was a camera and microphone the size of a cufflink, affectionately called a Peeper cam, or Peep for short. Jack took control of it with his phone, swiveling the camera towards the subject that was now better identifiable.

Poking out of the hood was a brown furred snout with a twitching nose and unmistakable whiskers poking through a bushy mustache. The person, a male wererat, looked around nervously and checked his phone, no updates which only made him pace faster.

“Confirmed ID, It’s Toby. He’s really a long way from Williamsburg.”Jack said as he observed the guy for a few moments before a third male voice came over the comms;

“Eyes up, we got a guy approaching from the North. Black leather jacket, Black baseball cap. Running facial rec for ID.” He said.

Jack looked over to see a colossus of a man easily over 7 feet tall, buzz cut hair, a combed down beard, and a septum piercing. Just telling by the way he walked he was extremely built, his muscles were barely covered by his jacket and threatened to shred his clothes at the lightest flex. Jack really hoped he didn’t have to fight the guy, his 9mm probably would just tickle the guy.

“Facial rec came back as Ray Denton, he’s a loan shark to humans and sells counterfeit glamours to unfortunate nonhumans. Be advised, he’s a Minotaur.” He added.

“Should we move in now?” The first man asked.

“No, standby. Wait til we see the merch then we move in. And alert a containment unit in case this goes awry.” Jack said, keeping his composure as he synched the audio of the peep to his earpiece.

“You Ray?” Toby asked.

“Yeah, You the rat?” Ray answered as he looked around.

“Yup, that's me. Word is you got the best concealer around.” Toby says whilst removing his hood to fully reveal his elongated rat-like face and ears.

“Money?” Ray asked, continuing to scan his surroundings.

“I got 300.” Toby started, as he reached into his coat.

“Not enough.” Ray said, cutting him off.

“What?” Toby asked, confused.

“300 ain’t enough for a concealer. Especially for the one needed to hide your face.” Ray stated as he stepped to walk away.

“Hold on, Hold On! A Bultungin in Union Square said you sold him a concealer for 300. So what’s the problem?” Toby asked, visibly twitching his nose as his tail whipped out of his coat in frustration.

“I sold him that while it was at a bargain price, the market's changed, and prices have gone up with my demand. I’m gonna need at least 500.” Ray explains looking down at the rat.

“That’s outrageous!” Toby fumed, stamping his foot.

“Sorry, can’t help you.” Ray answered before turning to leave.

“Wait! I can pay 400 right now, but I cannot leave without a concealer. Please!” Toby begged as he pulled out a roll of cash from his coat.

Ray craned his head to look at Toby before turning to face him.

“Fine, you’ll get your concealer. But, you’ll owe me extra for this uncomfortable position you’ve put me in. Double the normal price in a week, With interest…Or Else.” Ray threatened as he grabbed Toby by his collar and snorted into his face.

“Got it. I'll pull some overtime. You’ll get your money.” Toby assured him.

Ray then let Toby go, took his money, counted it and only when satisfied he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a bracelet with a seemingly mundane jewel embedded in it.

“There you go, meet back here in a week with my money.” Ray reminded Toby before he turned to begin to leave.

Jack had seen everything and pressed into his earpiece to broadcast the order to all agents on his channel.

“Move in.”

In a matter of seconds, the nearly empty park was flooded with agents who seemingly appeared from nowhere. Cars screeched to halts in front of the arch with flashing lights, one group trained their weapons on Ray as he looked around for an escape, while Toby was tackled and cuffed. Seeing none Ray shifted, his face elongated as he blew steam from his nostrils and massive curled horns sprouted from his skull. His clothes erupted in shreds and his shoes split to reveal hooves. Once fully transformed he let out a deep bellow as he charged the closest pair of men armed with riot shields. He easily tossed both aside as he started running for the nearest street, only to get slammed by the front end of a delivery truck. Before Ray could get to his feet the driver got out and stuck him in his neck with something, not that he had the moment to contemplate before passing out.

“Sweet dreams. Bull is secure, but I’ll need some help to get him in the truck.” The agent said into his earpiece as he put away a tranquilizer.

“On it, Hey Rick can you get a couple guys and go help Johnson with getting Mr. Minotaur to HQ for processing.” Jack said to one man as the two who got thrown were being checked out. Rick immediately grabbed some agents to assist Johnson while Jack checked on the cuffed Toby, who also had a pair of agents flanking him.

“Toby Wilson, long time, no see. You been avoiding me?” He asked as one agent gave him the glamour.

“No, just been busy.” Toby replies.

“It’s okay guys, I can take it from here. Go canvas the scene for any possible onlookers and clear out asap.” Jack said as he helped Toby to his feet.

Jack then escorted Toby to his vehicle, placed him in the back then got in the driver’s seat. Jack then adjusted his rear view mirror so he could look Toby in the eye

“Now explain to me why you were not only outside of Williamsburg, past your curfew, and buying counterfeit glamours from a criminal?” Jack demanded with a stern look.

“Overlooking the fact he’s a Minotaur?” Toby responded, dodging the question.

“That ain’t got anything to do with you leaving your zone. That was part of your contract when you chose to live here. So either you talk to me, or I can go ahead and give you your third strike and have you locked up in a Security Max within the hour.” Jack explained.

“You can’t do that, I got a wife and 10 kids at home with 2 more on the way!” Toby shouted.

“Hey, indoor voice. How’s the wife by the way?” Jack asked as he started the car.

“Fine, been a little under the weather, but overall she’s fine.” Toby said, adjusting himself in the seat.

Jack put the car into gear and began driving down the street. He didn’t mind the traffic since there wasn't any rush, he just wanted to make Toby calm down a little. When he stopped at a stoplight, jack looked into the rear view mirror and, since Toby had shifted back into his human form, asked him;

“So who is his glamour for? It can’t be yours, and your wife never had issues with keeping her form…”

Jack paused as Toby squirmed a little, he also looked at the floor, and generally avoided making eye contact. Jack drove on when the light turned green, but kept looking at Toby every time he looked at the mirror. Finally Toby spoke when they came to the next stoplight.

“My youngest, Anny, is having issues controlling her animal form. The glamour shops the Bureau approved were too expensive, way more than what I could afford on my salary. So I reached out to some friends and they said Ray was a bit of a hard-ass but he sold glamours cheap. And I needed one…so you can guess what happened next.” Toby explained.

“Couldn’t have made the guy come to Williamsburg? Why not meet you at your job at the shipyards?” Jack questioned.

“I only got his number last night, and I was in such a rush I just called him and I would’ve set it on my turf but he wouldn’t meet me anywhere else.” Toby responded.

“Yeah he seemed like the one who was in control.” Jack commented as they crossed the Williamsburg bridge. Jack went through some side streets again before stopping in front of an old apartment building. Jack then turned the car off, got out and helped Toby out of the backseat so he could take off his handcuffs. Rubbing his wrists in relief, Toby looked to Jack with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Before you ask, I don’t really blame you, you’re trying to do what’s right by your family and they can’t live without you. So I will be confiscating this, however so we don’t get another report of you out of your zone…” Jack started but paused to reach into his coat and produce a checkbook. Jack wrote out a check and put it into Toby’s jacket before he looked Toby in the eyes and continued;

“You go to a reputable and approved glamour seller, get your daughter her glamour, and if I see you outside your zone again then I won't hesitate to put you in the deepest cell I can find. It’ll make Alcatraz look like a resort in Fiji. Got me?”

“Yeah..Yeah, I got ya.” Toby answered, holding eye contact reluctantly.

Jack patted him on the shoulder, straightened his coat and stepped away

“Then have a good night Toby, and stay out of trouble.” Jack said, before getting back in his car and watched Toby enter the apartment building before driving away.

-Two Hours Later-

Jack stopped at a drive through and was downing his second burger when his phone went off, showing him a notification with an address and subject title labeled “Homicide of nonhuman”. Immediately Jack put the car into gear and began driving, he was close by so he didn’t mind answering the call.

The address led Jack to the Woodside borough of Brooklyn, a place known for its multi-Asian cultures and fine dining. Jack soon enough arrived at the scene where several unmarked Bureau cars had already shown up. Finishing the last of his drive thru dinner he got out and approached the agent in charge flashing his ID badge.

“Whadda we got?” He asked.

“Follow me.” The agent answered, leading Jack up the stairs, explaining as they walked.

“The apartment belongs to a Lee Hong, he lived alone, no relatives or roommates, kept to himself, and the neighbors barely knew him. As for his species, he’s an aswang, not too sure on the specific type though.” The agent continued.

Jack knew that aswangs were a particularly nasty creature to deal with. Filipino in origin, the name Aswang is an umbrella term for many species of vampiric, flesh eating creatures. They are relatively new to the US posing as immigrants like most magic creatures, one thing Jack also knew and dreaded was Aswang rarely lived alone. Jack got out of his head by asking the agent;

“How’d you guys get the call?”

“The neighbors said they smelled a horrid smell from his apartment and one called the super to check on him, and found a horror show. The super called who he thought was the cops, but HQ redirected it to us. Hope you have a strong stomach.” The agent added as they came to an apartment on the third floor. The door was guarded by one agent who unlocked the door so they could enter; even in the hall Jack noticed the heavy metallic scent, like iron and copper, the telltale smell of blood. When the door opened Jack felt the full brunt of blood and who knows what else, the crime scene investigators were already on scene suited up and taking photos of all potential evidence. Jack felt a knot in his stomach well up as he was shown the body or what was left of it.

On one end of the front room slash kitchen was a detached right arm, in the center of the room smashed onto a split coffee table was the torso of a headless male individual missing one right arm detached at the shoulder, the left leg was broken at the knee with the shin on his thigh and foot against his hip, and his head was on the opposite side of the room with a fixed look of anger. The head had reverted to its true form: a gaunt face, flattened nose, the upper lip split and curled up to reveal a row of needle-like teeth and red orb-like eyes, definitely an aswang. The room itself was covered in blood and viscera, even the ceiling had blood splatter. This was going to be one of ‘those nights’, the kind of night where Jack would wonder if he could keep his food down cause somehow he was always called into bloody messes when he was eating. Jack took some deep breaths before tentatively stepping towards the closest CSI, a woman taking photos of the head.

“So what do you think might have happened to Mr. Hong?” He questioned.

“Well from general observation his head wasn’t severed by a blade or claws. It was pulled off.” She says.

“Pulled?” Jack asked quizzically.

“If you’ll notice over here, his neck vertebrae are not connected to the bottom of the skull, because they, along with his trachea, arteries, and neck muscles are right here next to his head. The best guess for how that occurred was that someone or something grabbed his throat, crushed it, then jerked with such strength that it popped his head off. Won’t know more till all of this gets back to the lab” The woman explained before the lead agent came over to Jack.

“We also found this.” He said, leading Jack to the bedroom.

Jack noticed pictures and plans on maps of a concert hall, there were rifles, ammunition, and makeshift explosives. So whatever this Lee Hong guy was up to, clearly it got him killed, or at least contributed in some way.

“Guy looks like he wanted to perpetuate the next Las Vegas mass shooting. Don’t know if I want to arrest Mr. Hong’s killer or shake his hand. Either way I got to find him first.” Jack debated, whilst looking over Hong's plans.

Jack looked at his watch and rubbed his eyes realizing he should have clocked out twenty minutes earlier.

“We can get this place processed and on your desk in the morning if you’d prefer.” The lead agent said.

“That may be best, I'll leave this to you then.” Jack said leaving the apartment building and drove to HQ. One would think that the Empire State Building would be the last place to have a super secret base but strangely no one noticed. Jack pulled into a parking garage next to the building which was closed for the night and wouldn’t open for another four hours. Jack pulled up to the kiosk and showed his BSRC badge, a few seconds passed before the doors opened for him and closed as soon as he was inside. The way the garage was laid out was you’d go through the gate and through a two lane tunnel divided by a brick wall, one side for outgoing and the other for incoming, that turned to the right into the multi-level parking garage.

However, Jack sped up and drove straight for the wall. Instead of crashing and turning into a metal sandwich, he went through the wall like it wasn’t there, which of course it was. The wall was fifty feet thick of brick and concrete, and on the other side was a tunnel that continued downwards to another parking garage. The wall was put there to seal off the tunnel from the outside world, and the only way through was a portal. Once someone was through, the portal closed until it was opened again by the agent on gatekeeping duty.

Jack slowed down to take the turn into the actual agency parking garage, found a spot closest to the elevator and took it down to the facility living quarters for its agents. Jack didn’t bother turning on the lights to his quarter as he knew the layout like the backs of his hands, he walked over then fell onto the couch and drifted into sleep. Jack awoke to his quarter’s artificial windows being open, the artificial sunlight making it hard to sleep. Jack sat up looking at the grassy plain with blue sky and the sun in the background, as well as the time and date in the top corner of the window.

“Nothing like an AI screensaver to make you feel like you’re on the surface.” He thought to himself, checking his phone, 2 new notifications.

He decided they’d have to wait while he took a shower and changed at least. When he was finished making breakfast Jack finally checked his phone. Barely past 9am and the case report for Lee Hong was on his desk, and he had a visitor in his office. He had a visitor in his office? “Who?” Jack thought.

He looked at the messages and the second one was sent nearly an hour ago. Jack quickly finished his breakfast and coffee before grabbing his badge and sidearm, heading for the nearest elevator. Once the elevator let him off at the offices, Jack had to pass the rows of desks where other agents were at work. Some on computers handling reports, tracking the various nonhumans in their respective boroughs, and Jack also noticed several nonhumans talking to agents about various issues. A few Jack recognized from previous cases; like a harpy who killed a man in Central Park back in 2010, although in her defense the guy was a serial killer about to claim another victim, still don’t know if that constituted her dropping him from 600 feet. Jack passed the rows and on the other end of the room was a reception desk and a set of doors that were currently closed. He showed his ID to the agent on duty, who cleared him to go through, opening the doors with the press of a button. The doors weren't even closed before Jack got a simultaneous look from the other agents in the room. Before he could ask why his colleagues were staring at him like he just kicked a puppy, another agent with a nervous look quickly approached him.

“Hey good and bad news, tried to text ya but you walked in before I hit send.” He babbled.

“Okay, calm down Harvey, what’s the problem?” Jack asked calmly.

“There is a woman in the conference room, she says she knows what happened to the aswang that was killed last night.” Harvey explains.

“And isn’t that a good thing?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well sure, but we ran her name, Victoria Cho…she’s a Kumiho. And she wants to talk to the Agent in charge of the investigation.” Harvey whispers, looking towards the guarded door of the conference room.

Jack knew Kumiho were creatures to be wary of. They were Korea’s form of a nine-tailed fox, only the most recent lore pegged them as having a taste for young men, their hearts and livers, more precisely. Jack recalled several cases where young men were cornered and killed by Kumiho, one incident in particular where one agent was killed when trying to apprehend one some years ago. Jack‘s head was whirling with questions. Why would a Kumiho come into a BSRC compound, where there were hundreds of armed agents and protocols in place to restrict magic spells? Why did she want to see him in particular?

Harvey spoke again, stirring Jack from his thoughts;

“I’ve already let security know, they’re on the way up.”

“Call them back and tell them to stand down.” Jack replied.

“What!? Why?” Harvey asked.

“She walked into this facility and waited for a specific person, she has a reason for being here and if she does kill me, I’m sure the hundreds of agents here will manage to avenge me. Now, I’ve got to meet this Victoria Cho.” Jack responded as he walked away from a flabbergasted Agent Harvey.

Jack walked to the door next to the guards, opening it he walked to the large window allowing him to see into the conference room. In the bare white brick room was a single long table with two metal chairs, in one sat a woman guarded by two agents in the corners of the room behind her. A wide brim sun hat obscured her face so Jack figured he had to enter to get a better look. He exited the observation room and entered the conference room, the woman looked up at him making Jack stop in his tracks, her black irises looked like he was staring into pools of ink. He blinked regaining his senses before speaking;

“Miss Victoria Cho. I am Agent Jack Miller, I’ve been informed you wished to speak to me.”

“Yes, I’m sorry for causing such a stir, I’m aware that your coworkers are on edge because of what I am.” She said, glancing at the guard nearest to her.

“If you wish we can move this to my office for a more private chat.” Jack offered.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” Victoria said, getting up from her seat.

As Jack escorted her to his office, he couldn’t help but look her over. Dressed in a white lace long sleeved dress that ended mid thigh, hugging her slender figure, accentuating her curves and drawing attention to her long legs. Her skin was white as porcelain and looked just as smooth, her arms hidden by see through mesh sleeves. Her hair was a cascading waterfall of ebony ending in the center of her back. From her neck hung a gold chain with a jade jewel drawing attention to her cleavage, to which Jack quickly averted his gaze. Despite her ravishing beauty, she simultaneously emitted an aura of a deadly predator, yet he still chose to enter the cage.

Jack opened the door to his office, allowing Victoria to enter first followed by him. Greeted by a plain looking office space with a carpeted floor, several bookcases lined the far wall, behind the desk against the wall were a couple of filing cabinets, and a pair of chairs aside from the one behind the desk. One the wall above the filing cabinets was a framed diploma from Cornell Law and several other awards from his college days. His desk was mostly bare aside from a computer, a notepad, pens, and a few childhood pics of him with his parents and two siblings. Jack gestured for Ms. Cho to take a seat before he walked behind the desk and took his own seat before pulling out a camera with a mini tripod.

“For security reasons, this conversation is going to be recorded. If that’s okay.” He explains.

“Of course.” Ms. Cho replied, removing her sunhat.

Once Jack turned on the camera, he stated his name for the record as did Victoria before he began his questioning.

“You told another agent that you had information on the death of Lee Hong. May I ask how?”

“Yes the truth is…I know who killed Lee- I mean Mr. Hong.” She said while she shifted nervously in her seat.

“And who was this person?” Jack asked, though he could already guess the answer.

“It was me. I killed Mr. Hong.” She confessed.

“Would you care to elaborate?” Jack asked.

Victoria explained everything; how as an escort she tended to clients all over the city and Lee had kept her paid good every time she quote “rocked his world”. She didn’t seem alarmed or put off that he was an Aswang since he still paid the price for her time. Over the last couple months Lee started calling for her less and less so she figured he found a girlfriend or something and went about her business. Then last night Lee called her out of the blue and asked to meet at his apartment. She had no reason to suspect him since he already transferred the payment to her account.

When she arrived at his apartment he seemed off, he was nervous and didn’t want to talk business. Lee then began rambling about how he had fallen for her and couldn’t stand her being around other men so his solution was to kill her other clients. Lee revealed he was stalking her and knew the next event she would attend and planned an attack.

“So how did you kill him?” Jack asked, watching her every move.

“I tried to leave but he stopped me, he transformed and nearly attacked me so I defended myself.” She replied.

“The crime scene was pretty brutal.” Jack commented.

“I…don’t know what to tell you. I was scared and I didn’t realize what had happened until it was over. It was like I blacked out and when it was over Lee was dead. I got scared so I left. I also knew you would find out about me sooner or later so I decided to clear my name.” She explains, tears beginning to well up as her voice cracks.

Jack had seen fake tears before, in fact he was nearly an expert in spotting what others hide, but something about hers expressed a sense of remorse and fear. Jack turned off the camera and set his notepad to the side. He then stood up and said;

“Ms. Cho, I’m certain I have sufficient testimony to, for the moment, eliminate you from our suspect list. But the investigation is still ongoing so when I get to the bottom of this I’ll let you know.”

“Of course, I’ve taken up a lot of your time, if there’s nothing else.” Victoria says getting up from her seat. Jack got the door first, opening it for her.

“Also Ms. Cho, if you remember anything that may help with the investigation, don’t hesitate to call.” He said giving her a business card with his personal number. As she took it she slipped him her own personal card.

Estate of Elder Barnabus Jaeger

Bures, Suffolk, England

-2010-

The car ride was mostly silent as the family of three drove through the countryside. The father, a well-dressed man in his mid to late thirties with neatly combed dark hair and a trimmed beard, was driving while also following the directions on his smartphone. His wife, a beautiful woman equal to him in age dressed in a black dress and blazer, was simply taking in the countryside and occasionally checking on their son, a teen dressed similar to his father listening to his iPod. She had wondered where the years had gone, especially since they had just left a funeral. The service was for her husband’s father, a World War II veteran as well as former member of the SAS, Barnabus Jaeger, or “Barnie” as he was called by his mates and family. 

Barnabus loved his family as well, he always had something good to say and rarely raised his voice, and to his only grandson Henry he was a constant inspiration. Other than Barnabus’ military service, the wife knew that after the war he married young and went to college to study finance. He then went on to work for a successful corporation, which he later became CEO of, that helped him take care of his family, his wife Emily passed away only four years prior but Barnabus still managed his company. Sadly he took a turn health wise, he was mostly healthy but the loss of his wife took its toll. The wife took solace in knowing at least he would be reunited with his wife, hopefully filling the hole her loss left in his heart.

The car turned down a one way road and immediately into a driveway, they stopped in the driveway in front of a small mansion. It was only two stories tall, but the interior made it feel much larger, there were ten bedrooms, five baths, several offices, an attic, and a basement. The design was Victorian, which made it seem old but it was surprisingly well maintained, Barnabus did like making things last. As the family slowly drove, they noticed another car had already parked. 

“I reckon that’s the attorney.” The husband said, parking next to the black sedan.

“I reckon so. Henry, we’re here.” The wife added, before tapping her son on the knee.

The boy took out his earbuds then looked at his mother and father, they both managed to smile despite the reasons being at his grandfather’s home. 

“This won’t take long, promise.” The father said, patting his son’s head.

“You alright?” The mother asked her son.

The son only nodded, not feeling up to talk at the moment.

The family then got out of their sedan, stretching for a moment before walking to the front door, which opened suddenly, allowing them to be greeted by a familiar face. Before them stood a short but stout woman dressed in a Victorian style maid uniform, her auburn hair done up in a bun, and though she was mature in age she had a youthful attitude. Her freckled cheeks plumped up as she smiled warmly, doing a curtsy as she welcomed the family;

“Master Benjamin, Mistress Eveline, and young Master Henry, Welcome.”

“Hello Annette.” The parents said in unison, both sharing a chuckle how synchronized it was.

“Hi Annette.” Henry added, smirking for a moment before his frown returned.

Annette let the family in and took their coats before quickly returning.

“It’s good to see you again Annette, I wish it wasn’t on such terrible timing.” Eveline said.

“Oh think nothing of it, Master Barnabus was not one to be sad in such times. He always believed when he passed that we remember his life and not mourn his passing. If it’s not too bold of me to say.” Annette said.

“It’s alright, but I’m afraid we are also here on business. I assume the lawyer is here?” Benjamin asked Annette.

“Oh yes, they’re waiting in the office, right this way.” Annette answered, guiding them down the halls to a set of double doors, inside the sprawling office were three individuals, two men and one woman, the woman was the oldest of the trio in her mid forties while the two men seemed in their early twenties. The woman was holding a briefcase as the parents turned to Annette.

“Annette, why don’t you take Henry somewhere quiet, we shouldn’t be long.” Benjamin said.

“Be good Henry, listen to Annette.” Eveline said to Henry before he nodded and smiled warmly.

“Come along young Master, I’ll fix you something to turn that frown upside down.” Annette said with a smile. She then took Henry’s hand and led him away from the room. Benjamin and Eveline shook the woman’s hand before taking their seats as did the woman, the two men standing behind her on both sides.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger, my name is Bella Haleigh. I am the attorney provided by your father’s company and the Executor of his Will and Estate.” She spoke.

“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Haleigh.” Benjamin said.

“Yes, a pleasure.” Eveline replied.

“Before we start, let me just express my deepest condolences for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger.” Bella added.

“Thank you, Ms. Haleigh, it has been rough for all of us.” Benjamin said, with Eveline taking his hand in comfort.

“Your father was a great inspiration to us all. Forgive me for asking, but was that your son, Henry?” Bella asked.

“Yes, he was. I guess my father talked about him, huh?” Benjamin asked.

“Very fondly, he adored Henry. Forgive me for asking, but how old is he?” Bella asked.

“He just turned fifteen recently.” Eveline answered

“Oh fun age, your father had it in his mind that Henry would follow in his footsteps at the company.” Bella said.

“Well, he will make his decision in due time, then again he has it in his mind he wants to be an Art Curator.” Eveline added.

“Yes, we all have to make decisions in time, some tougher than others. I for one would be happy to have him in our company. The Financial district has very good benefits. But down to business I won't take too much of your time.” Bella said, opening her briefcase and retrieving the will.

As they tended to their business, Annette had treated Henry to some warm lavender tea, his favorite. It seemed to help for a time but Annette could sense he still had a dark cloud hanging over him. Suddenly Annette hatched an idea, she knew exactly what would cheer him up. 

"Young Master, why don't you go into your Grandfather's study while I see to my duties. I know your Grandfather left something in there for you." Annette said.

Henry smirked before walking through the halls passing portraits of medieval knights, suits of armor on stands with their swords and shields, the large portrait of his grandfather with the family, and the family flag of a red dragon holding a shield with its wings outstretched. Eventually Henry came to a room he remembered quite well, his grandfather’s study. The room was circular with several bookcases that went to the ceiling, on the far left side was a window that overlooked a pond in the garden where a gazebo was also set up. Henry walked over to the large desk where his grandfather would work and spend many nights in thought. He noticed a thick leather bound notebook on the desk with a note that said “for Henry” taped to its cover.

Henry gently removed the taped note and read it silently to himself;

“Dear Henry

Though my time in this world has come to an end, I have no regrets. My time was brief, and despite the horrors I have seen, my life was filled with so much wonder I can only thank God for how much I have been blessed. Especially for the joy you brought into my life. As a soldier I fought for my country and as a father I protected those who were dearest to me, my honor is assured.

This journal contains my memoirs and the truth of what I did, where I went, the things I encountered, and what I lost. Every word is true, no matter how fantastically absurd some of it may sound. As you grow older, I hope that you never lose your sense of wonder. Do not forget the things you enjoy and surround yourself with likeminded people, those people will always be your truest of friends. If I must have one regret, it is that I personally didn’t get to tell you of my adventures, I hope you can forgive me for that. 

Since it is Fate that we be separated on earth, I hope we’ll meet again in Heaven.

Remember me in your fondest memories.

Your Grandpa Barnie

Always.”

Henry sat in the chair as his hands trembled. A couple of his tears stained the bottom of the note so he sat it on the desk to avoid staining it more. After drying his face and calming himself he folded the note and placed it to the side before picking up the journal. It was an old leather bound style, the leather was aged and worn in some places, mostly around the edges. It smelled old as well, like aged ink and faint glue, and the binding was starting to come loose but it was still holding together. Taking a deep breath, he opened the journal.

The first page had a hand drawn portrait of a much younger Barnabus, Henry couldn’t help but see the similarities they shared. From the sparse stubble to the nose and even the curly hair, it all made him smile and even chuckle. The first few pages were of Barnabus’s being born in 1919, his childhood in post Great War Britain, his father was a veteran who struggled greatly until he was given the opportunity to work in construction. The next pages spoke of his family being German immigrants, which was the origin of their family name, “Jaeger’’ meaning “hunter”. Henry skipped ahead several pages, settling on the page that labeled his time in the army; at the start of World War II he readily joined the effort.

As he read further, Henry read a passage that was both disturbing and unbelievable;

“I was on night patrol with a couple of my mates along the coast just a couple hundred yards from our base camp, ours was one of many Anti-Aircraft Batteries along the coast to defend against bombing raids. We were part of a platoon, nearly fifty men, it had been quiet the previous couple nights so everyone was incredibly relaxed. We would regret not being prepared. The first time I heard it, I brushed it off as simply a gust of wind, a breeze from the ocean. The second time my squadmate, Joseph Makkey, turned to me and asked “you heard that, right?”, all three of us began looking to the sky. 

The moon was high but there was some overcast that obstructed any clear view. The sound was clearer now, a whoosh of wind followed by some kind of growl, but not the growl of an engine. No, this growl was too natural, no plane engine could imitate it. Suddenly the silence was broken by this haunting shouting voice, followed by several terrible roars. The world was ablaze as streams of fire rained onto our camp, the sounds of my comrades screaming filled the air as their bodies melted to ash, explosions of our ammunition and vehicles filled us with terror. 

Me and my squadmates ran to the camp, our training taking over, but before we could reach the outskirts, I saw them. Three large black shapes silhouetted against the moon as they got into formation to come around for another pass, I shouted to my mates as they reached the camp before me but it was too late as three pillars of flame descended from the sky. One moment my friends were in front of me, the next they were engulfed in flame, somehow I got a clear look as these creatures flew overhead. Each one was at little over thirty feet long with a wingspan of comparable length, scaled bodies, leathery wings like a demon, and from their mouths came fire. On their backs were men shouting and whooping in celebration as they saw their handiwork, the one leading them shouted something, and as quickly as they appeared they were gone.

As the fires died and morning came I silently sat surrounded by the ashes of my platoon, some of the bodies were barely even skeletons. At my feet was Joseph Makkey, his face was coated in ash, his torso was scorched of all flesh, and nothing but brittle blackened bones below his waist. His uniform had melted to his body, almost replacing his skin but what I will forever remember is the look in his eyes. How scared they looked, how much pain he was in, the raw agony of the fire. For so long I cursed God for leaving just me, why was I allowed to live and not more? Out of the fifty men in my camp, Why was I the only one who survived? They stayed forever young, and here I am still…”

Henry was a mix of sad and disbelief at how horrible his grandfather really felt, that under that chipper and loving exterior was a man who had been through Hell itself. Henry read the journal more, finding out that after the incident, which was labeled a surprise bombing, Barnabus was approached by a man who claimed to be part of the SAS. What stood out though was how knowledgeable this man was about the creatures that Barnabus saw, describing them as “Firedrakes”. He went into greater detail about them, adding that they were being used by the Germans as part of their Blitzkrieg, but also told Barnabus that the information would not be free. The other pages read about how Barnabus joined the man in a secret organization called The Order, the cost for surviving and knowing of their existence. 

As Henry read through the journal, back in the office downstairs the meeting was close to wrapping up with Ms. Haleigh set the will to the side and grabbed a final piece of paper.

“Now that we have the legal matters settled, it was the last request of your father that I read this to both of you.” She began, before reading the letter.

“Benjamin and Eveline 

While the mansion and estate have been my home in the twilight of my life, it barely felt like home since your mother, my Emily, passed away. Since it now belongs to you both, I will not fault you should you choose to sell it, all I ask is that my personal journal and my war chest be given to Henry. I know he has been interested in my adventures, and my one regret is I was unable to tell him everything. My hope is that even though my life has come to an end, I can continue to be part of his.

Your Father Barnabus” Ms. Haleigh finished.

Benjamin looked at Eveline and both agreed while they had their jobs in Cambridge it wouldn’t be too much of a change. If anything, moving into the mansion would mean adjusting for drive time since it was an hour from Cambridge to Suffolk. They could also agree that it couldn’t hurt for Henry to have some of his Grandfather’s things, it’s what Barnabus would’ve wanted anyway. And the country air would likely do them all some good, and the village people were all so nice. As the couple finished their business, Henry was still reading the passages in the journal.

He was barely a quarter through, learning Barnabus had joined a special battalion meant to hunt down and kill these dragons, they were aptly called The Dragonslayers. Several more pages described the Firedrakes used by the German’s Elite Air Division, most were thirty feet long from nose to tail, Barnabus did note that while he and his comrades brought down larger Firedrakes, the thirty footers were the most common. The Firedrakes only had four limbs, two wings, which folded to allow for walking on all fours, and two back legs and they could breath fire that could reach up to a thousand degrees fahrenheit. The Germans used hidden factories as breeding depots to churn out hundreds of these creatures in a matter of months and used strange devices that grew them to adults within only a couple months of hatching. There were detailed drawings of the creatures with lengths and wingspans, even descriptions of the saddles of the German riders along with their flight suits and equipment. 

Several pages later showed some new creatures that resembled the type of dragons he had seen in storybooks, four legs and a pair of wings, not to mention the depiction of them breathing fire. There was a chart labeling the sizes of the European dragon throughout their lifecycle;

“-Hatchling-Infant- around 20 inches long, 10 inches tall at the shoulder, wingspan comparable to body length, incapable of flight, unable to breath fire, scales are rough to the touch but not thick. Pupils are round and horns are nubby. After 6 weeks the hatchling is considered an infant and stays near its parent or nest. Susceptible to small arms fire.

-Wyrmling- around 40-50 years of age, 40 to 45 feet from nose to tail, standing 10 to 15 feet at the shoulder, pupils have constricted to a more vertical shape, horns have lengthened and sharpened to points, wingspan is same as body length, and scales have begun to grow dense. Scales have the same armor density as 25mm of steel, most small arms unable to penetrate. Heavy weapons or anti-tank weapons are advised.

-Adult- adulthood begins around 80 years of age, up 90 feet long from nose to tail, standing 30 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 90mm of steel, eyes have dim glow to them, horns show wear and tear, scales are bright and brilliant in color. Tank and air support is heavily advised.

-Great Wyrm- approximately 100 years of age, 140 feet long from nose to tail, 40 feet at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 110mm of steel, eyes brightly glow, sometimes glossing over the pupil, horns beginning to splinter at the tips, wingspan same as body length, scales in some parts show signs of scale rot. Aside from breathing fire, one was observed to use lightning as a breath weapon and as an area of effect attack. Tank support, heavy artillery, and air support is required.

-Elder Wyrm- several centuries old, 280 to 300 feet long and 80 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density is near impenetrable except when worn down by continuous heavy weapon fire, scale rot has set in and is most visible around where the joints flex and bend. The body is covered in horn and spine growth, the wingspan is equivalent to the body length and capable of hurricane level gusts. The rarest of the dragon species, very little information, other than infield hunting, is known.``

Henry was confused by that last note, as he thought dragons were just fairytales. Yet why would his Grandfather have so much information on them? He turned the page to find several maps of France, Germany, Eastern Europe, Scandinavia, and even England itself, all maps had X’s along with a date and page number next to them, each one signifying where various dragons were killed during and after the war. He flipped through the journal some more, passing a page that made him go back. This one had a location and a date, “Southern Bavaria, 1950, Elder Wyrm, casualties 97 of 110”, steeling himself, Henry read the passage.

“It was a warm summer day, in the shadows of these mountains I’m pretty sure they were the Chiemgau Alps. There was this village we had arrived at situated in this peaceful valley, but there were wyrmling sightings in the area, we feared that meant an Adult was roaming around. The Order sent a hundred and ten of us to investigate, we had support from four Centurion tanks, each with a crew of four, a battery of these 5.5 inch guns, six whole guns with ten men on each one, and that left only thirty-four of us to engage the beast on foot. Well not on foot per say as we all had horses that we would be riding, like the knights of old. We waited into the night, we all sat and talked about the finer things, family back home, situations abroad, and other things. 

I remembered my time with the Dragon Slayers as we took the fight to the Germans, I remembered while the Firedrakes were used to take on our armed forces the Dragons themselves were reserved for more vile deeds. When Hitler’s final solution was enacted, they used dragon fire to extinguish the evidence of their fell deeds, burning hundreds of villages, taking the lives of countless innocents. For these crimes there was no forgiveness, our orders were to hunt down the beasts and end them. I didn’t question my orders, not once, for me it was as simple as avenging my comrades. Then all of a sudden, it happened.

The sky opened as a streak of fire rained on the village, the silence broken by the sound of rushing wind and the wails of the dying and panicked people. In the dead of night, it looked like day, like Hell itself, whether it was courage or our training we leapt into action. We spurred our horses onward as it came over again, setting the rest of the village on fire. There was a great rumble that made the earth tremble, then we saw him standing illuminated by his own fire. Crimson scales glowed in the light, his wings like great shadows stretched outward, his maw was like an open furnace and his eyes glowed bright, the size of him left us frozen, awestruck, frightened. 

From his mouth came death, flame so hot it turned buildings of stone to dust, our escape was cut off, our rearguard left incinerated. Our tanks and artillery fired on him, but those that hit barely grazed his armor, his impenetrable scales held even as we hit him with our anti-tank weapons. It didn’t faze him, what happened next shattered our hope. As he was assaulted by artillery, his body glowed red hot then took an orange color as sparks traveled up his spines, his neck, and wingtips, he faced the hillside where our tanks and artillery were and drew a deep breath. With a deafening roar, lightning spewed from his mouth, wingtips, and back, the hillside erupted in explosions, with one sway of his head the heavy guns were silent.

Our commander ordered us to hide as he went to distract the beast, we found a basement and took shelter as the beast continued his furious display. We dared not emerge until morning, we easily found the body of our commander, his body scorched from the chest down. Even when the dragon was gone, I couldn’t stop shaking. One hundred and ten men went to Bavaria and only thirteen came back.” 

Henry was shocked by the story, disbelieving if it could be real but he didn’t have time to think as the door was opened by his father.

“Henry, we've been looking all over for you. What have you got there?” His father asked in relief.

“It’s Granddad’s old journal, he left it to me, there was a note and everything.” Henry said, showing his dad the letter. 

It was then the rest of the mother and Annette came in. All three let out a sigh of relief before embracing Henry and his father. Ms Haleigh and her two companions also entered the room and, noticing the happy family, said her goodbyes before seeing herself out with her two escorts in tow. The family also decided it was time to head home as well, of course they took Barnabus’s war chest, a large trunk, with them before leaving. Once the family was back home they had dinner and discussed moving into the mansion, all agreeing it was a good idea, before turning in for the night. Henry however stayed awake to read more of his Grandfather’s journal, getting to the part where he fought the Elder Dragon a second time made him worry a little. 

Barnabus wrote that in the 1960s, he and the Dragonslayers returned to Bavaria, this time with more advanced artillery, in this case some experimental tanks we called Chieftains, three whole companies of them. Knowing that the same dragon they faced had roosted in the mountains, they were taking no chances this time around. Barnabus even mentioned they had help from a pair of magic users, which Henry questioned as dragons were one thing but people using magic was pushing the reality a little. He continued reading, getting to the part where the dragon appeared and as he breathed his fire, the magic users pushed it back at him. The Chieftain’s gun had been equipped with high penetration sabot rounds that were devastating to the once impenetrable armor of the dragon as every shot sent scales and blood flying. 

Though Henry was astonished by the passage, the following passage of the dragon’s lair left him in awe.

“…Deep in the cavern, among the blackened rocks and clawed trenches in the stone I found a central chamber with only one other occupant. Another dragon curled up in the back, its tail and wings covering most of its body minus it’s neck and front legs, the shorter horns and overall smaller size identified it as a female. Her scales were taken by the rot, once vibrant scales were now dull and brittle, her body was skinny and her limbs frail, her wings had barely enough leather for gliding let alone flight, but even in this state she could’ve still posed a threat. Seeing this female as she was made me feel something I thought I had lost, I felt sorry for her. I put down my rifle and sword before slowly approaching the female, her eyes burning holes in me not in rage but as if looking for something beneath my armor. 

Her voice startled me, so much it made my heart stop, she asked him a single question. “Why do you falter?” 

I replied that I didn't know, which was true. I had no idea why now I chose to take pity on her, just that for the first time in a while, I was unable to end her. She spoke again saying;

“Perhaps you finally know the gravity of your actions. The countless numbers of my kin you killed, and soon I shall join them.” 

“But why does it feel wrong now? Your kin burned countless people, erased villages, and for what?” I answered, my anger resurfacing but she kept her calm voice as she retorted.

“Me and my kin joined the humans of Germany because their leader promised us a return to our glory instead of living in the shadow of the new dawn. When we finally knew the cost of such promises, we were too late to oppose it and in truth many of us were blind to the consequences. We burned millions and for that alone your kind sought our extinction, but I must ask, was it worth it? When we are all gone, erased from your memories, does it absolve you of your own sins?”

Her words rang through me, in my own quest for revenge I had sullied my hands in the blood of countless dragons. I looked her in the eyes and told her how sorry I was. I even told her that, if it would bring her peace in her final moments, she could take my life. Instead she gave me a chance of redemption, she lifted her tail revealing a single egg laying against her body, covered in red scales and even had a faint glow to it. Tentatively I took it in my hands, it was heavy at least ten pounds and a little bigger than a soccer ball.

As I held the egg in my arms she revealed her name as Fyrasol, and with her last breath made me promise to care for her last hatchling. I vowed that day that the cycle of death ended with me and I would sooner end my own life before I broke it…”

Henry was speechless at the ending but decided that perhaps thinking about it would be best suited for the morning. He sat the journal on the nightstand and laid in his bed before drifting off to dreams of dragons.

-Ten years later-

Henry had finished looking over a report of a relocation project for an Adult dragon to one of the Shetland Isles. Seeing the team had successfully released the Dragon, he ordered them back to Headquarters as soon as they were able. As he relaxed he looked at the picture of him and his Grandfather when he was a kid, it made him think of how far he came after his Grandfather’s funeral. After he finished his secondary education, Henry was recruited by the Order, then further followed Barnabus’ footsteps in joining the Keepers, the former Dragonslayers who joined Barnabus’ dream to ensure the survival of the remaining dragons. As Henry sat in memory he suddenly got a call on his desk phone;

“Director Jaeger.” Henry greeted.

“Director, she’s ready for her afternoon flight.” A female voice answered.

“I'll be right down.” Henry said before hanging up.

Henry went to a closet and pressed a code on a keypad, revealing a black fitted flight suit, he got dressed in it before leaving his office and navigating the facility’s halls to a room overlooking a hanger bay. This hanger however wasn’t for aircraft, instead it had been turned into a lair for a rather exceptional female Wyrmling, she was born from the egg Barnabus saved all those years ago. Following her recovery, Barnabus returned to the Order where he and his fellow Dragonslayers vowed they would dedicate themselves to the preservation of Dragons. The newfound Keepers then began their efforts by locating and guarding the last remaining dragons in Europe, even coordinating with their comrades in the east, learning how to care for these creatures. Named after her mother, Fyra hatched in 1970 and was cared for by Barnabus until his passing in 2010, and less than a decade later she was placed under Henry’s care.

When Henry entered the room he noticed she was being tended to by several people attaching a saddle to her back and in front of her was a woman with glasses and a ponytail who waved at Henry as he came to greet them both. 

“Afternoon Director, I was just giving Fyra a weather update.” The woman said adjusting her glasses.

“I've flown in high winds before.” The dragon replied with a huff.

“Yes but our Director will be on your back, so I’m simply reminding you to be careful.” The woman says as Henry shakes his head, knowing all the regulations when he went out on such dangerous activities.

“Dr. Blume, I can assure you I will be just fine. Now I think Fyra has waited long enough, if everything is ready let’s get this ball rolling.” Henry said.

15 miles South of Wadi Halfa

Sudan, North Africa

-2011-

As the desert sun reached its peak there was barely a breeze in a flat valley between two flat plateaus, perfect for target practice. The target, a single abandoned car with flat tires and broken windows, rust had set in along its body; calling it a wreck was generous. A whooshing sound was heard, then the car suddenly exploded into a flaming mess of scrap metal. The force was so strong it made the front of the car tip upwards on its rear wheels before slamming down in a cloud of dust and debris. Flaming metal and other car parts landing with thuds, littering the valley floor. A hundred yards away, a woman dressed in desert camouflage gear and a tan ballistic vest lifted her RPG-7 launcher before smiling at its performance.

“As you can see the HEAT rounds are just as devastating to non-armored targets as well as armored ones. A pretty play toy, don’t you think?” The woman asked, turning to the crowd behind her, flexing her toned, tattooed arms. 

Roughly eighty hyena-like humanoids, both female and male, of various ages and heights, either standing, crouching, or on horseback turned to look at one male who wore a mask that was made from the skull of some sort of antelope that might’ve helped distinguish his position in this clan. He was also lighter in fur color, with an unusual pattern mix of spots and stripes. The male spoke in his native tongue, a mixture of growls and rhythmic snarls to his clan, repeating the woman’s question to them. In response, they all made calls of laughter and growls. A sudden roar silenced them instantly, astride a black stallion was a dark furred female with lighter markings around her hips and legs, she had piercings in her ears and nose, and though she was topless, the multitude of scars on her chest drew more attention than her nakedness. In one hand she held the reins of her horse and in the other a weathered SKS rifle with a bladed bayonet. Her mere presence made most of the clan males visibly cower, while the females did not because they knew better than to show weakness and incur her wrath.

This alpha female looked to the male in the skull mask and spoke in a different language, which the woman with the RPG recognized as Arabic with a few growls mixed in, the male then nodded once she finished speaking then turned back to the woman.

“She said to continue the demonstration.” The male said in English.

“Well since I’ve whetted your appetites. Decker!” The woman replied, handing her RPG to a man dressed in similar gear to her, except he had a white shemagh wrapped around his neck. He had a youthful face with short hair complete with a trimmed goatee but despite his young appearance he carried himself with some discipline and experience. He placed the RPG back into a padded wooden crate along with two others before closing the lid and putting it back on a stack behind him. He then picked up a crate from another stack and sat in on the ground before removing the lid to reveal five AK-47 rifles, their magazines off to the side in their own section of the crate. Decker then let the woman pick up one rifle and one loaded test magazine, the only one in the crate.

“Remember Agent Prince, it’s a demonstration, don’t go overboard.” Decker reminded the woman.

She rolled her eyes before saying with a smirk.

“What’s a good demonstration without pushing the limits a bit?”

She then turned back to her audience, holding the rifle above her head in one hand for all to see.

“This is the AK-47 rifle, fresh off the assembly line. It is so simple to operate even children can handle this weapon with ease. The magazine holds thirty rounds of 7.62 x 39mm ammo. To make ready the rifle, you load the magazine, rack the slide, and pull the trigger. Simplicity itself.” Agent Prince says, doing the actions swiftly before shouldering the rifle and taking aim. Decker threw three clay pigeons into the air in quick succession, which she quickly shot out of the air in bursts of fire. She then emptied the rest of the magazine into the flaming scrap metal.

“See, simple. But I’m sure you want to see what else you’re getting.” Prince said, removing the magazine as the translator repeated everything as she spoke. 

Prince put the AK-47 back in it’s crate before Decker brought a third crate over this one having only two weapons, they looked similar to the AK-47 but with much longer barrels, even having bipods, and the stocks were different in shape. 

“This is the RPK light machine gun, it uses the same ammo as the AK-47 so you won't have to worry about mismatched ammo. It’s longer barrel gives it a longer range than a standard rifle and the bipod gives it more stability when behind cover or when prone. And it can use the standard AK magazines or it's bigger seventy-five round magazine. Operation is exactly the same as the AK, like so.” Prince said, loading the only loaded magazine in the crate and took aim.

As Decker set up some targets, on one of the plateaus, over a mile away, was a lone sniper looking through the scope of his rifle. This rifle, however, was no normal rifle since it didn’t use regular black powder propellant ammunition. It instead fired energy based projectiles using a magic crystal as a battery and with the turn of a dial on its side, its rounds could even reduce a multistory building to rubble. Hopefully the sniper wouldn’t need to use such a setting as he watched Agent Prince take out the targets of wooden boards, even sawing a couple in half. The sniper kept an eye on the werehyenas who were all watching and nodding at the weapons performance the females included. 

“Eagle 2, This is Rogue Squad. Check in. Over.” A male voice came over the sniper’s radio.

“This is Eagle 2. All quiet. Over.” The sniper replied.

“Comfortable?” The voice asked.

“Sure just baking in the sun and my pants are full of sand, I’m just peachy. Over.” Eagle 2 said sarcastically whilst the guy on the other end chuckled.

“Just bear with it a little while longer, Prince is about to close the deal. Out.” The guy said on the radio before ending the transmission.

Prince had emptied the RPK and placed it back in its respective crate before looking to the werehyenas. They in turn looked to the alpha who waved her hand forward with a growl, the translator walked over to her and they spoke in Arabic. Prince knew Arabic but unfortunately couldn’t discern many of the words through the growls and snarls to make out clear sentences. As the alpha spoke one of the younger males, comparable in age to a human preteen, stared at Decker and the convoy of armored vehicles behind him in curiosity. Decker noticed as well, but he then realized the kid wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at his AK-103 rifle he held in front of him.

Decker and his brothers in arms had the same rifles, they were like the AK-47 in design just with some modern upgrades they even used the same round, if anything they were the same but one was simply older than the other. But Decker could see why this creature would be skeptical about getting older weapons instead of new ones like theirs. Finally the translator and the Alpha concluded their talk only for her to dismount from her horse, one female took the reins while two others followed her to meet Agent Prince. Prince now saw just how tall this female was, she herself was a tall woman at 5'10",  but this female was a colossus that easily looked down at her as well as the other males and most of the females that didn't match her height. Even in the shadow of this hyena woman, Prince didn't lose her composure, even as sweat beaded from her brow, she kept her faint smirk before asking.

"So, what's it gonna be?"

The alpha female growled before speaking in English.

"We will take everything."

"Great, so that’s forty AK-47 rifles, ten RPK light machine guns with forty-two hundred rounds of ammunition…" She listed before the Alpha interrupted.

"And the RPG's?"

"And the RPG's. With thirty rounds for them." Prince confirmed.

The Alpha seemed pleased and nodded to one of her subordinates to take the crate at their feet, only for Prince to plant her boot on the top of the crate. This made the Alpha and many of the others give Prince a look of anger, even eliciting a snarl from her as Prince rested her hand on a holstered Desert Eagle on her gun belt.

"This is a transaction. You want these, you have to pay for them." Prince said, ignoring the clan's growls and calls as well as the sounds of her 14 man team disengaging their rifles safeties. The Alpha was both surprised and angered by this sudden defiance, especially with how this human fancies herself her equal.

"I could just kill you all and take them." The Alpha snarled, a demonic smile curled across her snout revealing her bone-crushing teeth.

"Kill me and we all die here. Then everyone gets nothing. You're smarter than that girl." Prince replied with her own smile.

"Say the word boss and this bitch is toast." Eagle 2 said into his mic, the whirling of his rifle powering up was also heard.

Prince ignored it, not taking her eyes off the Alpha or her clan mates who had their own weapons of spears, bows, even swords and axes ready. The tense standoff ended a few moments, though it felt like hours, later with the Alpha raising her hand silencing her clan, making them lower their weapons. Prince did the same, making her men lower their rifles before asking the Alpha.

"You have the payment?" 

The Alpha growled in annoyance before saying something to her subordinates, the female went to the Alpha's stallion and retrieved a medium sized pouch from the saddlebag. She gave it to the Alpha who then gave it to Prince, who looked inside taking out one of the contents, a thumb sized crystal with a dim orange glow. She handed it to Decker, who took it to one of the armored trucks opening a locked rifle case to reveal another rifle that Eagle 2 was equipped with, only this one had a medium range scope instead of a long range scope. Decker ran his hand along the rifle’s upper receiver, his fingers brushing the stamped letters that read “HAMR” followed by the serial number. Decker sat his AK-103 off to the side of the truck bed, then picked up the HAMR, pressing a button on the grip to power it up, a dull blue light along the barrel showing it was ready to be fired. 

He pressed the button again, powering it down to flip a switch making a small compartment in the top of the stock revealing the blue ‘power crystal’, he removed it then replaced it with the orange crystal. Once the compartment was closed, Decker hit the button to power up the HAMR, it did so only with an orange glow along it’s barrel instead of blue. Decker then nodded to Prince who was looking his way, she smirked before turning back to the Alpha.

“Looks like we have a deal. Boys! Start unloading!” Prince shouted to her men, the Alpha even barked at her male subordinates to help unload their new weapons. As the men went about unloading the crates of guns and ammo, Decker rejoined Prince as they walked back to their armored Humvee.

“So, remind me why we’re arming this Bultungin clan.” He asked.

“Because the Bureau believes we need allies. Besides with the innumerable terror groups active in this region, the Bultungin are on the defense. Also this particular clan was the only one willing to trade with us, we get new energy crystals for our new HAMR rifles and they get firearms to defend themselves…or whatever they choose to do as long as they don’t become our new problems.” Prince responded.

Once the trucks were emptied, the clan made quick time opening the crates and arming themselves. Most of the males quickly took to the firearms while the females mostly kept their melee weapons, as did some of the stronger males in the clan. The Alpha jumped onto her stallion, and after seeing her clan had their new rifles, shouted a command making the clan follow her out of the valley.

Prince also thought it would be a good idea to be scarce now that their work was done. She got into her Humvee, with Decker giving the order to move out, and got on the radio to speak to HQ.

"HQ this is Agent Dominika Prince of Rogue Squad. Come in." She said.

"Agent Prince go ahead." A male voice answered.

"Christmas came early for our new friends, we’re gonna pick up Eagle 2 then head for the border.” Prince explained.

“Affirmative, we have a QRT ready to pick you all up. Forwarding the coordinates now. I expect a full report when you get back Agent Prince.” The male voice said.

“Yes sir. Out.” Prince replied with a roll of her eyes.

Decker started up the Humvee and took his position behind the lead vehicle followed by the two armored trucks and the last two vehicles taking up the rear of the convoy. After picking up Eagle 2 from his perch, Prince started to get an uneasy feeling, especially as they passed Wadi Halfa. For one their radios were getting spotty and second there were a few unsavory dust clouds in the distance. Like they were being followed by something or someone. Prince looked to Decker who felt it too, he got on the radio and told everyone to remain extra vigilant.

As the convoy neared the border, Prince checked her radar and found a blip that stood out. She checked her mirrors and found a dark shape in the air right behind them, she focused enough on it to see something detach off the side of it that immediately made her eyes widen. She grabbed her radio and shouted to all vehicles;

“INCOMING!”

But it was too late. A missile arched past her vehicle into the backend of the lead Humvee, the force sent the Humvee flipping forward onto its back before rolling down the road on it’s side before blocking the road. Decker slammed on the brakes as did the rest of the convoy but before they could back up to go around it, a second missile blew up the last vehicle boxing in the convoy.

“HQ this is Rogue Squad, we are under attack! I Repeat, We are under attack! Rogue 2 and 4 are down, we’re under heavy enemy fire, we need backup Immediately!” Prince shouted into her radio.

“Copy all Rogue Squad, a QRT is on it’s way. ETA is 10 minutes.” HQ replied.

“We'll all be dead in 10 minutes.” Prince said, hanging up.

“Fucking asshats.” She said before getting out of the Humvee.

Decker got out with her just as the shape passed over them, by its general shape and the odd looking cockpit, Prince determined it as a Russian Mi-24, also called a Hind. Prince ran towards the last escort as Decker opened the back of one truck and began arming one of the HAMR rifles. Eagle 2 got out of his Humvee, covering a pair of his squad mates rescuing the crew from the Humvee Rogue 2, the turret gunner was dead, as was the driver, but the passenger barely managed to crawl out from the wreck. Prince and two squadmates fired at the Hind with their rifles as it turned towards them. The turret gunner fired his 50 cal Browning machine gun but the Hind fired at the Humvee making the others dive for cover as the Humvee was shredded by the Hind’s cannons. 

Just as Decker armed his HAMR rifle, he and the squad fired at Hind as it turned to come around, the HAMR’s energy projectile went in a straight line but missed by mere feet. Eagle 2 fired his rifle and while his shot was closer he saw it just skim under the tail through his scope. They fired again in tandem, both of their shots either barely missed or grazed it’s hull, Eagle 2’s shot was so close he saw sparks come off it’s metal body.

“Goddamn it guys, Take it out!” Prince shouted as she reloaded.

“He’s moving too fast it’s not that fucking easy!” Eagle 2 replied.

He tried to get another shot but an alert blocked his scope view, his rifle was too hot, the energy output too much. He tried to pull the lever to vent the barrel, but the Hind now faced the trapped convoy. It’s twin rocket pods fired several rockets towards them, they didn’t hit the trucks but rather the area around them, sending dust and shrapnel at the team as they were all either knocked out from the shockwaves or wounded by the shrapnel. The Hind landed nearby, it’s rotor clearing the dust and smoke around it as the doors opened on both sides. Out stepped eight men in black tactical gear with gas masks covering their faces, they quickly shot any survivors who were still dazed after the rockets. 

They split into two groups of four with one group raiding the trucks and the other taking the HAMR rifles. One of the men grabbed Eagle 2’s rifle only for it to power up, he didn’t have time to regret it as Eagle 2 pulled the trigger, the shot went through the man’s midsection effectively splitting him in half. Unfortunately the next shot came from another one of the men who shot Eagle 2 in the head. Prince barely had her eyes open and her ears were still ringing, but she saw the quick scuffle that lasted barely a couple seconds. She saw the first group grab the cases that contained the HAMR rifles, and the second get the other two rifles before one man grabbed another, she guessed they exchanged words as the second group of now three men started shooting her downed teammates in their heads.

When one moved to Decker she quickly got out her Desert Eagle and shot that one in the chest, Decker snapped to reality long enough to pull his own sidearm to start firing at the last two, killing them easily. He tried to fire at the group as getting on the Hind, but they returned fire, hitting Decker just under his vest. Prince emptied her Desert Eagle at the Hind but it still took off. Before the Hind could turn to leave it suddenly was hit by two rockets, Prince was quickly surprised by the calls of the Bultungin clan on top of the trucks behind her. Once the Hind crashed the doors opened only for the survivors to be shot or impaled by the Bultungin clan members. While some of the members began feeding on the bodies, the Alpha showed herself and grabbed the rifle cases from the Hind. Prince watched as she took the HAMR rifles, inspecting one, but then dropped them at Prince’s feet.

“A kindness, from one warrior to another.” She said before barking orders to her clan.

No sooner did they leave did the QRT arrive with three Ospreys. She shielded and comforted Decker as two Ospreys landed, the third circled and kept a lookout with it’s guns ready to fire should trouble show up again. The med team got Decker inside their Osprey as Prince told the team to grab the bodies from the Hind, three of which weren't touched by the Bultungin clan. Once the bodies were loaded up, the trucks were manned by men from the QRT, who continued to drive them to the border and to the rendezvous point. 

Back at HQ, Prince looked through the glass of Decker’s room in the Medical Ward; she knew he was in bad shape. Decker took two bullets through his abdomen, which penetrated his small intestine, and though one bullet hit him in the chest, his vest ensured it didn’t penetrate but the bruising probably felt worse. He was breathing on his own which gave some hope for recovery, but he had lost a lot of blood. Thankfully he had the best doctors in the Ward making sure the worst was the least of his problems. She mustered up some strength before entering the room, standing next to his bed, her hand gently taking his.

“I am so sorry, Jon.” She said quietly, the only way to avoid her voice cracking.

His hand lightly squeezed hers in response to her words, which gave her some comfort and hope. As she stayed with Decker, in another part of the facility, a meeting was being held. The Overseer, a man of average height and build, dressed in a black suit, and a look of concern adorned his face, was anxious to hear what happened.

“Now that we are all here, what do we know?” He asked.

“Rogue Squad was nearly wiped out, of the fifteen man team only two survived. The Team Leader Dominika Prince and Agent Jonathan Decker, who is still in intensive care. Before the QRT was able to arrive, Agent Prince said that the Bultungin used their new weapons to bring down an Mi-24 attack helicopter.” One man spoke up, his equipment identified him as the head of security.

“So the Russians were responsible for attempting to take our rifles?” The Overseer asked.

“I wish it were that simple. Agent Prince ordered these three bodies to be retrieved. Two of them had South African visas and the third had a British passport, aside from that we know nothing about them. Except they all had the same tattoo.” The second man, an older man in a white lab coat, said, giving the Overseer three pictures that depicted a right hand, palm forward with a crown in the middle of it. The Overseer, visibly shaken, stood up from his desk.

“Call every facility in the US, Canada, the UK, Europe, Everywhere. Distribute these photographs in encrypted files directly to their servers. And call a meeting of all team leaders and recall all Agents from the field.” He commanded. The man in the lab coat left but the Head of Security stayed to ask;

“What’s the matter?”

“If these are in fact real, then an old enemy is making his move for the first time in over a decade.” The Overseer said.

“You don’t mean…” The Head of Security started.

Excavation Site 22

Libya, North Africa

-2017-

The sun was unbearable, even in the shadow of the mountain it was barely below a hundred degrees. Even the wind didn’t help as it blew sand and dry wind that made you sweat bullets as soon as you moved. The worst part was that it was only 11am, and it was only getting hotter. Set up around an ancient tomb-like structure, buried under sand and stones from the mountain, was a camp of nearly twenty tents although their occupants were hard at work digging up the ruin. Workers dug deep into the sand, shoveling, and taking sand out by the bucket full, yet there was little progress.

One man was overlooking the dig; he was middle-aged and in great physical shape dressed in desert camouflage pants, boots, a short sleeve shirt, and a tactical chest harness that had a canteen and several magazines for a rifle among other gear. A second man who was taller, but skinnier in build, dressed in tan cargo shorts, a sweat drenched tank top, and he had a sun hat that did squat against the heat. The skinny man took out a canteen, drank several gulps before wiping the sweat from his brow then returned to help shovel sand. The fit man slung his AK-47 over his shoulder before checking on the man.

“Any luck Prof. Winslow?” He asked

“Well Mr. McCormick, I think we can safely assume that this indeed is a Garamantian tomb, you can tell by the simple fact that we are near their ancient capital Garama.” The skinny man responded with a British accent.

“But can you be certain that this is the right one?” McCormick asked.

“Won’t know until we get inside. But the Lidar scans showed a hollow spot in this section. And you know what they say ‘twenty two times the charm.’.” Winslow said, continuing his work. 

It was nearly evening by the time Winslow and the team managed to find the entrance, though they were all tired, the prospect of opening the tomb filled everyone with newfound vigor. Once the entrance was unearthed, Winslow was the first inside with McCormick right behind him, both men had flashlights which helped illuminate the corridor. The two men followed the corridor downwards for about thirty feet before entering a more open chamber which had little in terms of artifacts with some pottery and remnants of textiles. They paled in comparison to the true treasure in the tomb. In the center of the few artifacts, partially buried under the sand, was a complete humanoid skeleton, while Prof. Winslow was used to seeing ancient skeletons; he had never seen one so unaged and altogether, almost as if it were placed there this morning.

The two men gingerly stepped around the skeleton, Winslow took out a camera and started taking pictures as he made a circle around the remains ensuring he got every detail. He halted his photography to take out a tape measure, he drew a line in the sand at the top of the skeleton and a second at the feet before measuring the approximate height.

"Fuckin Hell." Winslow exclaimed.

"What?!" McCormick responded with a hand on his AK-47.

"Whoever this person was, they were roughly 6ft 3' tall." Winslow said in astonishment before taking a picture of the measurement.

"I'm guessing that's above average?" McCormick asked, kneeling next to the skeleton.

"Way above average. Most men of the time were lucky to be above 5ft 6'." Winslow said.

"Damn." McCormick said placing his hand next to the skeleton's hand which made his own look a bit shorter. It was then he noticed that the knuckles were fractured, the other bones in the hand had cracks in them as well. He looked over the skeleton noticing multitudes of other injuries like fractures and breaks, the skull especially had its fair share of impacts mostly around the face and jaw. McCormick also noted that the left clavicle as well as ribs 1-4 were crushed inward, the thought of whatever did such damage made him wince. The most gruesome injury was that the sternum was split in half, leaving a gap wide enough to stick his hand through. 

This surprised Winslow as he didn't know of any weapon that would cause such a clean break. Once Winslow was done with his pictures he turned to a couple of workers and told them in Arabic;

"Get the brushes, the lights, plastor, and the crates. We are moving the body and the artifacts tonight."

With that the worker nodded before rushing to the others, who quickly went to get the equipment. McCormick looked to Winslow before asking;

“Taking this back to London?” 

“I can only do so much here, if I’m to investigate more I’ll need a sterile environment, plus the Order will want to know what we’ve found.” Winslow said.

“I’ll call in the plane.” McCormick says, leaving the chamber. He passes by the workers as they head to the now open chamber. 

Several hours passed before the rumbling of aircraft engines broke the nighttime silence, McCormick had seen to having a makeshift landing strip carved up and lit up for the transport. The single C-130J landed easily, kicking up enough sand for a small sandstorm in the process, but at least the skeleton was nearly prepared for transport. All that was left was to wait for the plaster encased bones to set so they could meticulously place them in a sterile container that looked like a steel coffin. Within minutes of the plaster setting, the remains had been placed in their respective containers and sealed; the containers were taken from the chamber to be loaded but as Winslow turned to follow he noticed something. In the sand next to where the remains were previously, he found a crystal just big enough to fit in his palm. He didn’t think much of it at first but remembered that not everything is as cut and dry as they seem, especially in this line of work, he bagged it and, as he caught up to the containers, stopped to add it to the last container before it was loaded aboard by the team. The pilot came to meet with Winslow and McCormick, telling them, 

“Weather is holding for now but I’d like to get out of here before that changes. You guys coming?” He asked.

“I better deliver the remains myself, The Director probably would want to hear it from me personally.” Winslow said. 

“Yeah right, you just want a free ride back to HQ.” McCormick said with a smirk.

“That is a coincidence entirely, but I won't deny that I miss being in my air conditioned office.” Winslow replied in a bit of a huff.

McCormick simply chuckled before the pilot prepped the plane and Winslow packed up the equipment in his tent. He thanked the workers for their help and wished them well as they likely will be heading back home, and he thanked Mr. McCormick for all his help and security of the camp.

“Oh I’ll be back before you know it. See you back at HQ Professor.” McCormick said, patting him on the back. Winslow took his seat as the ramp closed and the engines spun up, he held on tight to his seat as the plane lunged forward before taking to the air in what felt like seconds. Either way, Prof. Winslow was glad he was heading home.

Back at Headquarters after a day of rest, Prof. Winslow was now able to study the skeleton in greater detail. He determined that the individual was male, most likely in his late forties, although with the normal methods he couldn’t accurately tell. One thing he could tell was that this man got into quite the fight before his ultimate demise. The individual had comminuted fractures to both of his hands, a flail chest fracture in his left 1-4 ribs, a broken left clavicle, multiple fractures to the face and skull, even a couple of teeth were missing, but what really drew his attention was the killing blow. The sternum fracture was conclusive with a stabbing, which he now saw went through the spine, plus given the angle of penetration he further concluded that whoever ended the man was standing over him when the blow was struck.

Winslow took a break as he stood alone in the lab, the others having checked out for the night, just staring at the skeleton. He was a combat medic with the Royal Marines for six years, he could remember every man he treated, everything from blisters to shrapnel wounds and burns. He remembered the first life he was unable to save, and the many others after, Winslow simply couldn’t comprehend how much pain this man was in when he died. How long he suffered before the end came. Winslow let out a deep sigh before returning to work, he took a sample of bone for the mass spectrometer to get an idea of how far back he lived. Winslow knew the machine would likely take all night so he decided to check out. He ensured the skeleton was locked in it’s locker before locking up the lab. 

The next morning he greeted the rest of the team as they went about their duties, the first thing he wanted to see was the results of the test, which he decided to read in his office. 

“Holy Shite!” Winslow shouted in surprise.

The test results had come back but he ran them again just to be sure only for it to come back the same. He took them to the Director’s office who was surprised by the sudden intrusion.

“Director Ambrose, you have to see this.” Winslow said, extending the file out towards him.

Ambrose was an older man with a slender build, dressed in a dark blue suit and glasses. His face was angular, clean shaven, and always had this serious no nonsense look that made him almost unapproachable. He adjusted his glasses so his dull grey eyes could focus on the paper in front of him, his expression turned from serious to questioning and finally disbelief before he looked at Winslow.

“Nigel…are you absolutely certain?” Ambrose asked.

“Yes George, I ran through the machine twice and it hasn’t changed. This skeleton is over 1 million years old.” Winslow replied in excitement.

"Bloody Hell." Ambrose said under his breath.

There was a moment of silence before Ambrose sat the folder down and spoke once more.

“And what of the crystal you found?” 

“My team in Sector 9 theorize it is some sort of memory bank but we're unable to reveal any secrets it may have at this time.” Winslow said.

“I see, well keep me in the loop Nigel. We both have been waiting a long time for answers.” Ambrose said as his face settled back to it’s normal no nonsense look.

“Of course, Director Ambrose.” Winslow responded before taking his leave.

-Two years later, OMC Headquarters, London-

A pair of women walked down the halls passing multiple cells containing objects of great power, while the Order considered them safe to be around, safety above all was still enforced. One of the women, a younger lass dressed in normal office attire with her hair in a bun, stopped for a moment at one cell looking at a sword lodged in a stone.

“Is that-“ she started to ask excitedly, only to be cut off by the second’s more serious tone.

“Yes it is, now come along.” She said, continuing down the hallway.

The younger woman caught up with her mentor as she rounded a corner. The younger woman looked at her mentor who was staring forward in silence. She was also dressed in office attire but no blazer, her hair was long and stopped in the middle of her back. She was a little older than her in terms of age but her experience definitely showed as she was an excellent scientist, though she always had a stern look, she rarely attended social events, and as far as she could tell probably hasn’t smiled in a long time. The younger woman spoke to break the silence;

“For the record, it was an honor being your assistant Dr. Garrett.” She said with her normal pep.

“You're not moving to a new facility Dr. Greene, just to a new office.” Dr. Garrett said.

“I know, I was just saying I’ll miss working with you. Plus you rarely eat in the cafeteria so…” Dr. Greene said but trailed off.

“Dr. Winslow is brilliant in his own right, and Director Ambrose only looks scary, just do your job and you’ll do fine.” Dr. Garrett replied.

“Right.” Dr. Greene said in a little defeated tone. Dr. Garrett looked at her assistant as she lost some of that excitement she had this morning. They finally arrived at Prof. Winslow’s office, which had a sign that read “Be back shortly” so the two women took a seat on the bench beside the door. As they sat, Dr. Garrett glanced at Dr. Greene before sighing.

“I eat lunch in the cafeteria at 2 every day, if you want to join me I would not be opposed to your company.” She said with a rare smirk.

“Thank you Dr. Garrett, I will be there!” Greene squealed in excitement.

“Don’t make me regret it.” Dr. Garrett said.

After a few minutes Prof. Winslow finally returned.

“Oh Morgan, sorry if you had to wait long.” He said in a friendly tone.

“It’s good to see you too, Prof. Winslow.” Dr. Garrett greeted.

“Oh come now, we’ve been colleagues for quite a while, I don’t see any reason to be so formal.” Winslow said.

“Oh alright Nigel, anyway this is my former assistant, Director Ambrose just approved her promotion to being part of your team.” Morgan said, introducing her now former assistant.

“Dr. Elizabeth Greene at your service sir. I hope I learn a lot.” Greene said in slight embarrassment.

“Pleasure to meet you, and you definitely will.” Nigel says, shaking her hand.

Morgan took her leave as Nigel and Elizabeth got introduced, Nigel then had Elizabeth step into his office where they took their seats to chat further.

“So I assume you know what we do here in Sector 9?” Nigel asks

“Yes, you and your team study the ancient remains of magic creatures and artifacts.” Elizabeth replies.

“That is the majority of what we do, yes but for the past ten years we have been pooling our resources to find and study a specific subject. Only two years ago did we find what we were looking for and today we finally have the whole story. Tell me Elizabeth, what do you know about the Garamantes?” Nigel asked, donning a serious look.

“I know they were an ancient tribe in what is now Libya, but I don’t know much about them.” She answered honestly.

Nigel’s face softened before he explained.

“They were much more than an ancient tribe, by the mid-second century AD they were a major regional superpower that established a kingdom that spanned 70,000 sq miles. They built complex underground aqueducts that supported their agricultural economy and population, even building their capital city in the middle of the desert without needing to be near a major water source. The Garamantes were by all means the most advanced civilization of their time. At their height they regularly traded with the Romans and Greeks, even traveled to Rome and Greece to sell their merchandise. Then in the fifth century, they vanished. Most history books or professors will tell you that as the water diminished the Garamantes were annexed or absorbed by the surrounding tribes. However we now have the real story of what really happened.”

Nigel paused to reach into his desk, retrieving a folder, then handed it to Elizabeth. Only then did he continue.

“You can read these in greater detail when you have more time, but I’ll give you the short version. In 2009 we discovered several tablets that spoke of a disaster that struck the Empire. The survivor, who we now know as Aya, spoke of a being that descended from the heavens and wiped out the Empire and all its people in the span of only a few days. Interestingly this being also spared her, her husband was not so lucky.”

“Her husband?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, according to her writings her husband wasn’t just a normal human, she described him fighting this destructive being in a valiant last stand that ended in his death. Two years ago we found his resting place and studied his remains here in Sector 9, along with a crystal that stored his memories. Thanks to it, we even know his name. And the name of his killer.” Nigel answered before getting up and having her follow him. Nigel escorted her to another room where the other team members were tending to the crystal, which now had a faint glow that pulsed every few seconds. Nigel first introduced Elizabeth to the other members then asked them to prepare a memory projection.

“Memory projection?” Elizabeth asked.

“This crystal, which we dubbed the Soul crystal, was inactive when I discovered it. But thanks to exposure to another magic crystal we have in storage, it came back to life. We were then able to use special filters and lenses to display the memories contained within much like a projector. What you are about to see are the memories, including the last moments, of Aya’s husband, the angel known as Ramiel.” Nigel explained, as a strange device with a number of lenses was set up facing the far wall, which was smoothed out to act as a projector screen. The Soul crystal was then gently removed from it’s protective glass box and placed in the device, it then came to life as the lenses were set and the projection was focused to the far wall. 

They first saw a land of green with farmers tending their fields, children at play, and a thriving village. The next scene was a man dressed in light robes, his head devoid of hair, and tall in stature with his wife in front of their home looking at a large city in the distance. They seemed genuinely happy until the next memory appeared showing dark clouds blotting out the sun, followed by rampant balls of fire falling that burned fields, decimated buildings, and sent people running for their lives. The next memories showed the city defenders, a vast army of mounted soldiers, amassed in front of the city walls, their opponent was a relatively short distance away. The opponent had wings coated in ash and embers, armor wreathed in flames as a storm of blackened clouds of smoke and fire followed behind them advancing slowly as they walked towards the citadel. 

The leader of the city defenders raised their sword then shouted a command leading the army at full charge, a storm of hooves and spears closed the distance in seconds but it was all for naught. Fireballs shot out from the clouds sending scores of men and horses into fiery heaps, if they weren’t incinerated immediately, across the sandy field. The being then flapped its wings gaining some height before descending like a meteorite onto the army, the survivors were cut down before many of them were able to fight back. Balls of flame then rained upon the city, the people’s cries of desperation and terror filled the streets as their destroyer entered their final refuge. Finally the last memories played, the city was aflame, the cries of the people were silent, their corpses littered the streets, and the one who brought it all upon them stood before the man and his wife, who now had a child in her arms. Their eyes like burning coals looked upon the trio before the man spoke a language they couldn’t understand, one of the researchers rewound the memory then pressed a button that translated the language to English.

“Why? WHY?! Tell me Apollyon! Why have you done this?!” He demanded.

“You forget Ramiel, in the grand scheme of things these insects mean nothing. It’s our job to ensure they know where they stand.” The dark one spoke.

“When did the Council allow for the slaughter of entire civilizations?!” Ramiel exclaimed.

“They only allowed me to destroy one. One limb sacrificed so the tree can flourish. Course there is one condition.” Apollyon answered indifferently.

“And what was that?” Ramiel asked.

“I only leave two survivors. And since there are none left in this “empire”, the choice falls to you Ramiel. Which among you will die?” Apollyon asked, summoning a battle axe and longsword to his hands.

Ramiel turned to his wife and the child she saved from it's dying mother, she stared at him fearfully, her hazel eyes dimmed by the desolation that surrounded them.

He smiled warmly before holding her close, his own tears streamed down his face.

"When I let go...you run. Run as far as possible. And don't look back. Please don't look back." He begged.

She nodded before saying

"I love you."

"Always." Ramiel replied.

He broke from the hug and she did as was asked running down the empty streets towards the gates.

Ramiel turned to Apollyon, his choice made.

"You're a monster Apollyon...it's time you were put down." He challenged as repressed energy surged through his body. Wings sprouted from his back as armor enveloped his body, lightning filling his eyes as his rage boiled, and with an outstretched hand summoned a spear of grand design. 

"I damned Atlantis to the depths, buried Pompeii in ashes, and you think you stand a chance against me, The Angel of Destruction? We shall see." Apollyon said unsummoning his weapons, before the two charged each other, their clash sent shockwaves powerful enough to flatten the buildings around them. Their duel took to the skies and though Ramiel was strong, with every blow he landed sounding like thunderclaps, Apollyon was overwhelming. Even unarmed Apollyon drew blood with every punch and kick.

Finally Apollyon grabbed Ramiel by his wings and threw him so hard he went through the palace and out the city wall before rolling to a stop among the ash fields. He barely got to his knees before Apollyon snatched him up by his throat, carrying him above the clouds, so far up the curve of the earth could be seen. He then descended like a falling star, throwing Ramiel into the earth with such force he left a crater several hundred feet wide. Apollyon landed seconds later and summoned his longsword. Ramiel's wings were scorched of nearly all their feathers, his face was bloody and swollen, one eye was barely open as his mouth was oozing blood, his breaths were shallow and gargled, and he had no strength to resist as Apollyon's boot planted itself on his chest.

"Such a disgrace of one of the original Watchers. Ending your miserable existence is an act of mercy." He hissed as he heard the crunch and snap of Ramiel's bones under his boot. Ramiel let out a groan of pain before Apollyon's sword impaled his chest, his breath no longer heard. Apollyon then took his leave, a flash of flame into the eye of the storm dispersed the clouds and the sun shined down on the ruined land. Ramiel's last memory was the sight of his wife before his eye closed for the final time. When the projection ended, a few of the team were in tears or drying their eyes, even Elizabeth felt unsteady before she sat in a seat.

(The Capture of The Jersey Devil)

The Pine Barrens, New Jersey

-2010-

A stillness gripped the air as the colors of twilight faded to darkness of night. Among the sea of stars, the moon shone brightly, illuminating the quiet forest beneath its face. Here in the southern part of New Jersey, covering nearly a million acres, multiple townships and counties was the infamous Pine Barrens. Among the pine trees and acidic soil no sound was heard; no crickets chirped, no birds sang, or even a rush of wind disturbed the silence of the Barrens. The only thing that broke the quiet of woods was a convoy made up of four Light Armored Tactical Vehicles(LATV), one Mobile Tactical Control Center(MTCC) vehicle, and one Heavy Armored Cargo Carrier(HACC) truck that turned off the paved road to an unpaved dirt road. 

The last LATV slowed to a stop as the convoy continued down the path, two men exited the vehicle in camouflaged tactical gear. One was armed with a modified M110 sniper rifle and the other with a modified M4 carbine as well as a spotting scope. Once the two men disappeared into the brush the LATV sped away to catch up with the convoy. The two men moved quickly, as quietly as possible through the woods before coming to their target, an old fire tower. As the two men ascended the tower, the convoy entered into a clearing big enough to set up for their mission.

Two five men teams exited their LATV’s to gear up with everything from bulletproof kevlar vests, night vision goggles, as well as a variety of capture equipment. The other two vehicles had a total of eight researchers plus their armed drivers. The MTCC parked and started extending its side panels to make room inside for the researchers who began setting up their computers, communications systems, and a projector with a screen for presentations. Within ten minutes the operation center was up and running, even with a couple of researchers looking at the Carranza Memorial they were set up around. The researchers manned their stations in the MTCC as the other Agents had finished checking their equipment and gear when one agent, a fit young man with blonde hair and a mustache, got a call on his radio.

“Woodsman 1, this is Woodsman 9, come in, Over.” A male voice said.

“Woodsman 9, this is Woodsman 1, send traffic, Over.” The blonde male responded.

“Me and Woodsman 10 are set up in the old fire tower /Break/ everything is quiet right now. Don’t know how much longer that’ll be. Over.” Woodsman 9 said.

“Copy all Woodsman 9, keep me updated, Out.” The blonde said before joining the other agents.

The agents finally entered the MTCC where the lead researcher named Dr. Ryan, an attractive redhead dressed in a form fitting turtleneck and knee length skirt that accentuated her hourglass figure, was waiting for them.

"Gather round, I'll give you all a quick recap before you take to the field. Your target is The Jersey Devil, which has been active in this region since 1735 so local legend goes. The Bureau has viewed the creature as a nuisance until a month ago when it attacked a hunter in Wharton State Forest." She said, clicking on a remote showing photos of a body propped against a tree. 

She clicks through the other photos that show the body having signs of severe trauma ranging from hoof prints, clawing, broken bones, and even his left leg was torn off mid thigh. Dr. Ryan then clicks to show a picture of a dead black bear.

"Officially the story was the hunter was tracking deer and stumbled upon a black bear which then mauled him to death, though some believe otherwise. Local game wardens then located and euthanized the bear" Dr. Ryan explained before clicking to the next set of pictures that showed the map of the forest. 

"The reason for the slow response time was to ensure the Jersey Devil remained in the State Forest or moved territories in the Pine Barrens. In that month, we have mapped out it's movements to this section of the forest, and it seems to return to this spot here every night which leads us to believe it's den is here." Dr. Ryan said pointing to a large dot on the map. She then showed high resolution pictures of the Devil. It was on all fours, the back feet were actually hooves, its front legs had three digits that resembled fingers and the arm was split in two at the wrist with a leathery membrane, it also had an elongated head similar to a horse with a much wider mouth. 

"Your objective is to take the Jersey Devil alive, a week before today, the team known as Trapper 1 set up special capture zones using electrified spider thread netting. The plan is to ground the creature using the net rifles then drive it toward one of these capture zones where it can be tranquilized and transported to the HACC. Your rifles have been modified with tranquilizer sabot darts, the dosage is three times what is needed to sedate an adult Silverback Gorilla. Due to the size and build of the Jersey Devil, we can estimate three to four darts should be the minimum needed for sedation." Dr. Ryan explained before asking if there were any questions.

Seeing that there were none she continued;

"I will now allow your Team Leader to take over from here. Agent Kennedy." Dr. Ryan said, letting Agent Kennedy, the blonde man from before, come to the front.

"The first phase of the operation is already in motion. Agents Kelso and Walker, callsigns Woodsman 9 and 10, have set up overwatch in the Apple Pie Hill Fire Tower northeast of this position. From here they have an unobstructed view of everything in the forest, as well as help coordinate which capture zone we should push towards. These darts are powerful, but they need to pierce the veins otherwise you’ll only make him angry, lethal force is a last resort. Any questions?” Kennedy asked.

One hand was raised by the newest of the team, he had to be in his early twenties at least.

“Yes Agent Miles?” Kennedy asked.

“What if the creature flies away before we can get a shot on it?” Miles asked.

“Woodsman 9 is the best shot on this team, if the Devil gets above the treeline then he will use the taser rounds to force it to land. The rounds are accurate up to 800 yards. Any more questions.” Kennedy asked.

When no one else raised their hands Agent Kennedy dismissed the team. They met outside, checking their equipment once more before the eight man team slipped into the woods. The team synced their radios to the MTCC so Dr. Ryan could keep tabs on their communications. She looked at one screen that had a live drone feed with its thermal camera active which easily spotted the team as they split into two groups of four methodically crossing a stream into denser woods. She also decided to listen in on their chatter as Agent Miles decided to ask questions.

“So what’s the story about this Jersey Devil?” He asked.

“You don’t know about the Jersey Devil?” The agent next to him asked surprised.

“No, not a thing.” Miles replied.

“Everyone stay off your coms, Miles wants a story.” Kennedy said, waiting for the coms to go silent before he spoke again.

“In 1735, an old woman by the name of Mother Leeds was pregnant with her 13th child. She went into labor on a stormy night and cursed saying “let it be a devil”, she birthed a healthy baby. But before her eyes the baby turned into something monstrous, it flew about the room injuring it’s siblings before flying up the chimney and into the woods, where it remains to this day. Every night you can hear its cry before it goes hunting.” Agent Kennedy told.

As if on cue, an unnatural screeching roar carried through the woods. The sound was so loud, so inhuman, it made everyone’s blood run cold, til Kennedy got everyone moving again towards the sound. Dr. Ryan came over the radio as she looked at the screen showing the creature on the thermal.

“The target is 200 yards to the north in a clearing.” She said watching it on the thermal, just this big blob of white against a black and white background.

“Copy, moving towards the target. Over.” Kennedy said before motioning with his hand for his team to move. 

As the team closed in on the clearing the woods got extremely quiet, the only sound was that of the team and the breathing of whatever they were getting close to. Kennedy raised a closed fist causing everyone to suddenly halt, he then opened his palm before lowering it twice, everyone got into a kneeling position and trained their weapons on a dark shape in the clearing. There was a bit of overcast but there was enough light for their night vision goggles to make out the features, that it was easily six feet tall at the shoulder and despite having a pair of front legs complete with three fingers, it stood on two legs using the tail for a counterbalance almost like a dinosaur. Finally the clouds moved allowing the moon to further illuminate their quarry, they could now see it had a mix of long and short hair as well as fur, it’s head did look similar to a horse even down to the mane along the back of its neck, it even had a pair of horns like a cow. The creature had a pair of glowing deep amber eyes but it seemed to be more focused on sniffing as it stood tall to catch a scent, when it turned towards the team’s position everyone’s hearts stopped.

The Devil’s lips curled to reveal rows of sharpened teeth but before it could let out another screech Kennedy shouted;

“NETS!”

Immediately three men fired the net guns, one missing it entirely while the second hit its mark wrapping the arms against its torso and the third closed the Devil’s jaws. The team encircled the beast while it spun and struggled to free itself, before anyone could get a clear shot the wires holding the nets broke letting the Devil’s arms free. Once it was free, it's wings unfolded before with several great flaps it was airborne going above the trees. Kennedy rolled onto his stomach and got on his radio.

"Woodsman 9, the chicken has flown the coop you got eyes on it?!"

"Roger, he's in my sights." He replies, following the Devil's path, Woodsman 10 follows with the scope feeding Woodsman 9 info on the best shot. Taking a long exhale he fired two shots, the darts shed their casings as they exited the barrel flying in a near flat trajectory before impacting in the Devil's chest and throat. The Devil let out a screech in pain before it began hovering in place, its flaps became slower and slower before it finally tumbled through the trees to the ground.

"Woodsman 1, Target is back on the ground, I hit him twice. Over." Woodsman 9 said.

"Roger, moving in. Over." Kennedy said before turning to his team.

"Woodsman Team, the Devil is 15 yards from Capture zone 5, to the east." Dr. Ryan said over the radio.

"Got it. He's at Capture zone 5! Taylor take your guys and take the left flank. The rest of us go right. Push him! Push him!" Kennedy ordered. They quickly closed the distance to the Devil as it thrashed and snarled in delirium, but it was still very much a danger. Thankfully when the team got close it decided to run, on two legs at first but it's wings folded to allow for it to use its forelegs.

The Devil covered the 15 yards like nothing, it was going so fast it didn't notice the netting blocking its path. The minute it touched the hair thin wire it was repelled by the shock. It was so stunned it didn't react to the two darts hitting its chest and neck. The team watched the devil stumble as it's legs buckled before it finally fell onto its side. Kennedy and his team slowly moved in before one of the agents checked the Devil.

"He's sedated." He confirmed.

"Get the harness and muzzle on it." Kennedy said, before calling Dr. Ryan.

"Dr. Ryan, target is sedated, returning to camp." 

"Good work Agent Kennedy, we will have the HACC ready for you." She responded.

"Roger, be there soon. Out." Kennedy said before keying his radio to the fire tower.

"Woodsman 9 and 10, hold position, we'll pick you guys up on the way out. Over." Kennedy explained.

"Copy." Woodsman 9 responded.

"Roger." Woodsman 10 concurred.

"See you guys soon, Out." Kennedy added before taking lead as his team lifted the Devil with a stretcher back to the camp. It took them roughly an hour before the Devil was placed in the HACC, its restraints were checked and secured before an IV with a sedation formula was set up. The doors were locked shut with the camp ready to go in a matter of minutes. The convoy drove to the fire tower, picking up their last two agents, before finally getting on the road to deliver their quarry.

-Ten years later-

A lone vehicle drove down the woodland road just before dawn, coming to a small clearing just off the road. Once the vehicle was parked out of sight, three agents got out, two men and one woman, and began unloading some kind of speaker. The woman stretched, inadvertently showing off her pear shaped body, due to being stuck in a car for several hours. She then looked to the other two who had the equipment ready to move, she smirked before turning on her iPad to look at a hidden surveillance camera feed. The feed showed a single man, who looked to be in his late fifties, dressed in camo clothing and an orange vest armed only with a bolt action rifle which hung over his shoulder as he quietly walked through the woods.

“Right on time, let's get going guys.” The woman said with a hint of excitement.

“Yes Dr. Kirby.” One of the men replied as they followed after her.

The trio came to a good spot that Dr. Kirby had picked out, here they set up the speaker as Dr. Kirby checked the hidden cameras again. This time it shows the hunter getting comfy in a tree stand, waiting for any possible game. Dr. Kirby waited til the speaker was set up before using her iPad’s camera to start recording.

“This is Dr. Amber Kirby, from Research Team 06 in the Wharton State Forest for Simulated Presence of the Jersey Devil, along to assist me is Agent Nolan for security and Agent Alan operating the Roar Speaker. The witness is a hunter in Sector 19, beginning Simulated Presence now.” Dr. Kirby then signaled Agent Alan, who put on his hearing protection while Agent Nolan and Dr. Kirby plugged one of their ears. Alan turned the speaker towards the hunter, thanks to the GPS of the cameras, then played the Jersey Devil broadcast roar. The roar was loud, like a mix between a bear and a deathly howl, though it lasted roughly four seconds. The sound carried through the woods for miles, Dr. Kirby watched the hunter turn towards the direction of the roar but didn’t move from his stand. She told Alan to replay the sound again, which made the hunter get down from the stand and practically sprint to his truck. 

"Simulated Presence was a success, this is Dr. Kirby signing off for now." Amber says turning off the recording and saving them to the BSRC database. After the speaker was packed up they returned to their vehicle and drove off. While driving, Agent Alan spoke up;

"You'd think with all these simulations, people wouldn't doubt the thing still lives here." 

"They do, the issue arises when they stop believing and start asking questions." Agent Nolan replied.

"Yeah but I mean, do we really have to keep doing these every month? I mean that guy we just scared off probably won't go hunting ever again." Alan commented.

"A hardened outdoorsman like that, he'll go hunting again, no problem." Nolan responded.

"How about we talk about getting some breakfast. I'm starving." Kirby chimed in.

"I could eat too." Nolan seconded.

Containment Site 93

Mt. St. Helens, Washington.

-May 17-18, 1980-

A violent rumble shook the facility, metal supports creaked and moaned as the earthquake shook the room and everyone inside. Concrete cracked and fractured, the sound of pieces breaking off were heard throughout the facility. As quickly as it started it was over, the aftershock was barely a tremble that sent an empty cup shattering to the floor. In one room, the researchers in lab coats got out from under their cover and checked the seismo monitors. One man stood, straightened his lab coat, combed his fingers through his brown hair, and stroked his bushy goatee before speaking to the young man at the monitor.

"How big was that one?"

"It was a 4.3 magnitude sir." He responded looking at the latest recording. 

"Is the epicenter the same as the others?" The man asked.

"Yes Dr. Hamilton, it's Object 317. It's been causing seismic activity for the past two months and getting stronger every time...if it continues, the volcano could erupt." The man said. 

The room was silent for a few moments before Dr. Hamilton spoke again.

"How much time do we have?"

"Based on these readings, anywhere between 36 to 48 hours before it sends a shockwave powerful enough to bury this facility and us along with it." The man said.

Dr. Hamilton stroked his chin in thought, to the facility's data and the roughly three hundred personnel. As Lead Researcher of Level 3 he knew that Object 317, or the Red Crystal they coined it, had been dormant for roughly a thousand years but two months ago it became active. What's worse is no one knows why. Suddenly a phone rang stirring him from his thoughts, a female researcher answered it before turning to Dr. Hamilton.

"It's Overseer Westbrooks. He wants to speak to you." She said, extending the phone to him.

"This is Dr. Hamilton." He said, taking the phone.

"Nicholas, you and your team alright?" The Overseer asked.

"Yeah, we're fine. A little rattled but nothing bad." Nicholas responded.

"Good, good. I just got off the phone with Laura on Level 2, I've given her the same instructions I'm about to give you. I'm enacting Protocol Omega, you all have 24 hours to get all your research together. If you and your team are not at the evac hanger before the deadline, you will be left behind." Overseer Westbrooks explained, his tone adding to the urgency.

"Understood sir. We won't miss it." Nicholas said before hanging up the phone.

"Alright people, Protocol Omega is in effect, we have 24 hours to get all our research. Dr. Park, take your team down to the data room, get all our server data. Dr. Maxwell, take your team to the archives, get as many files, notes, papers, journals, Anything pertaining to our research. Come on, time's a-wastin." Nicholas said as his team went about getting their work.

The halls were filled with researchers in moments, all frantic to get to their stations. The server room was being cleared of its data banks, the archive shelves were being emptied as each journal was filled with critical information on the Occult and Supernatural. The file cabinets were filled with sensitive and classified material so rather than try to fill tons of luggage, the researchers opted to take the entire cabinets. Security personnel were also helping with the evacuation of the researchers and the moving of the artifacts. The purpose of this facility was the secure containment of powerful objects that in the wrong hands would spell disaster for not just the United States, but the very world itself. It took nearly the whole night, plus a few more tremors, but when the rays of morning began to show, the majority of the facility was evacuated, the data had been all removed, and there was only one last object to extract, Object 317.

Secured within a bright lit, fifty by fifty foot room, levitating in a slow rotation was a dark crimson tetragonal crystal. It was twelve feet tall and the energy it gave off was a mix of menacing and grim. Two researchers, along with half a dozen security personnel armed with M16s and Colt Commando carbines, began attaching a harness to drag the floating crystal to the exit. Dr. Hamilton met with the head of security in the observation room overlooking the cell, he was a black man, average in build, dressed in full kit but lacked the helmet and balaclava of the other personnel. Holstered on his hip was a Colt 1911 Commander, along with three extra mags, and slung on his shoulder was a CAR-15 carbine. Dr. Hamilton smirked as he knew that this man took the safety of everyone seriously, sometimes even disregarding protocol to help his fellow man.

"Clay, thought I'd meet you here." Dr. Hamilton said.

"Dr. Hamilton, figured you'd be the last one to evacuate." Mr. Johnson said with a smirk.

"I'm the Head Researcher of Level 3, it's my job to ensure the objects are safely transported." Hamilton said watching the researchers secure the crystal.

"And it's My job to ensure you don't get unnecessarily harmed doing so." Clay replied with a chuckle.

Dr. Hamilton grinned with a light chuckle before a call on Clay's walkie caught his attention.

"Guardian Actual, this is Guardian 2-1, come in Guardian. Over."

"Guardian 2-1, report. Over." Clay responded.

"We've reached the sealed vent in Sector 3-7, we're placing the FAE now. Over." Guardian 2-1 said.

"Copy all, Guardian 2-1, give me a sitrep when able. Over." Clay said.

"Copy. Guardian 2-1 out." The voice said before going silent. 

Clay's sudden watch alarm startled him, he checked the time, 8:00 am. He took a breath before turning the alarm off.

Dr. Hamilton had read about FAE's, or Fuel-air Explosive, in the facility's classified files. When Protocol Omega is enacted, security personnel will place an FAE device in the room of the sealed thermal vent that leads directly into the volcano. The room of the vent's seal was locked behind a magnetic locked door built to withstand a shot from the 120mm cannon of the M1 Abrams tank. The theory, and hope, was that the explosion would cause a controlled vertical eruption, destroying the facility and limiting possible civilian casualties. Suddenly the crystal pulsed with energy, the force made everyone in the cell back up a step before the shaking began.

The cell walls cracked and the floor fractured as a violent tremor rumbled throughout the facility. The lights went out as the fixtures came loose from the ceiling, the glass in the observation room cracked and spiderwebbed from there before it shattered into the cell. Once the shaking stopped the observation room and cell was much darker, many of the lights were off, aside from the ambient emergency lights.

Hamilton and Clay got to their feet with some scrapes but nothing bad, unfortunately one of the researchers was less lucky.

"Man Down! Man Down!" One of the men shouted.

Hamilton and Clay immediately ran down to the cell to see one of the younger scientists impaled by pieces of glass through his back, a pool of blood slowly forming around his body. The group stood in silence for a moment before the room was filled by a new light. The Red Crystal began emitting a low crimson glow, followed by a low pulsing sound, the glow flickered in rhythm with the pulse...like a heartbeat. Dr. Hamilton and the remaining researcher noticed that blood had gotten on it, the next thing they noticed was the pulsing got faster and faster until it cracked. Everyone watched as a dark shape inside the crystal became larger and larger, the cracks got bigger as they began to run the length of the crystal.

Clay commanded everyone to leave just as the dark shape filled the crystal but before they could move, a great roar shattered the crystal, the force sending everyone to the floor. A stillness took over, dust hung in the air for but a moment, before the sound of heavy feet landing and claws clicking on the floor. A pair of wings flapped to clear the room, it was then everyone saw the remnants of crystal shards scattered around the room in a circle and what was standing in the center of it all. It was 9 ft in height standing on canine legs, horns protruded from it's brow curving downward then pointing forward just past it's chin, the body was ripped with muscle and deep scars decorated it's flesh, the face was human in shape but that's where it ended. A pair of massive leathery wings folded behind it's back as it's glowing red eyes focused on the men in the room. 

It's lips curled into a wicked smile, baring long pointed canines and sharpened teeth. Alongside the scars were branded symbols that began to glow with a crimson hue. He said something in a language no one understood before from his hand he summoned a wicked curved blade, red in color and covered in symbols, and with a swing he cleaved the second researcher in two.

"Open Fire!" Clay ordered.

The men started firing at the massive humanoid only for it to start attacking them, in one swing he bisected one man from his right shoulder to his groin, he kicked another through the open door and down the hallway, his kevlar body armor was shredded but not punctured but his ribs were definitely broken. Clay grabbed Dr. Hamilton before shutting the magnetic sealed door, but it was proving to be only an inconvenience for the creature as every blow against the heavy metal door made it creak and give.

"All Guardian Teams, we have a Code Black, I repeat, Code Black! Guardian Actual has sustained casualties, does anyone copy? Over." Clay shouted into his radio.

"Copy all Guardian Actual, Guardian 2 is enroute to meet you at Sector 3-2." One team leader responded.

"This is Guardian 3, on our way to assist." Another replied.

"Guardian 4 has linked up with Guardian 5, enroute." A third responded.

Dr. Hamilton helped seal the second door at the end of the hallway just as the being broke the door off its hinges. The team then ran to meet the other teams as they gathered on the 2nd Level, Dr. Hamilton even disabled the elevators after the other teams confirmed they used the stairs. Clay knew that'd only buy them a few minutes at best so he asked Guardian 2-1, his ID tag reading "Flint", for a sitrep. 

"The FAE is in place and armed, but during the last tremor, the timer was damaged. The only way to set it off is a direct detonation." Flint said.

"So one of us has to go down there and detonate it ourselves?" Clay asked.

"Yeah." Flint responded.

Clay looked down at his watch, 8:20 am, before he took a deep breath.

"I'm going down there, alone if I have to. I won't ask any of you to follow me." Clay said.

"Bullshit." Flint replied.

"What?" Clay asked in surprise.

"I said Bullshit. I'm going with you, me and my team will make that thing wish it crawled back into whatever hole it spawned from." Flint said, his team having similar looks as do the rest. Clay smirked before turning to Dr. Hamilton, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It was good knowing you doc. The last evac should be on it's way, make sure you take care of my team." Clay said.

"Not a problem...it was an honor to work with you, Mr. Wright." He responded, helping the wounded man with one more taking the lead. Guardian 5 decided to act as security, but the ten men each saluted the other teams who would stay, wishing them all luck before following after Dr. Hamilton.

Clay and Flint along with their teams headed for the stairs into Level 3, where everything suddenly became much darker. Along the halls were slashes from claws and a blade, bloody prints and trails went in multiple directions, and when Clay found the aftermath of his slaughtered squad mates he shuddered in fear. Their bodies were aged severely, wrinkled and bony, and their eyes were burned from their sockets, their expressions that of overwhelming terror.

"I smell your Fear...like little children. Children who are afraid of the Dark." a distorted, male voice spoke from the darkness but remained unseen as the squads looked everywhere.

"Move, Move!" Flint ordered, leading the way to the vent. They heard laughter now all around them before the voice spoke again.

"Yes. Run! Run if you like. There is Nowhere to hide!" It chuckled with glee.

They felt it all around them, the running of feet on the concrete floors and the whoosh of wings set everyone on edge since it kept hidden in the shadows. Guardian 4 was first to face its wrath, one second it appears from the darkness the next two men are dead. The team stayed to try and stall the creature as it appeared again, when it was shot at he roared before charging, cutting with his blade, swiping with his claws and goring with his horns. Flint showed the others a shortcut, through a hallway that had two blast doors on either end. 

Clay, Flint, and the rest of Guardian 2 made through but as Guardian 3 and his squad neared the door it suddenly closed. Guardian 3 banged on the door begging them to open the door, but no matter how hard they tried the door wouldn't budge. Suddenly the door on the other end closed, metal groaned as darkness filled that end along with low guttural breathing. The darkness was then illuminated by the being as his brands lit with crimson, his eyes glowing bright, and his blade ablaze with ungodly fire. The squad immediately fired at the being as he walked forward a swing of his blade felling one man after the next.

"HELP US!" Guardian 3 shouted desperately on his end of the door. The creature came closer as he slayed man after man, he used some telekinetic ability to pin one man to the ceiling, his tail stabbing through the man's vest and torso with no effort. He slowly came to Guardian 3 and silenced him by piercing his blade through him and the door. Everyone sprinted through the next corridor as the door was thrown off it's frame, locking the other doors as they went. Finally they came to the corridor where the bomb was set, thankfully it hadn't been tampered with.

Flint began setting the trigger, as his team covered the hallway, when Clay got a call on his radio;

"Guardian Actual this is Evac Team Jericho, we have your men aboard. What's your ETA? Over."

"Say again you have my men aboard including Guardian 5 and Dr. Hamilton? Over." Clay responded.

"Copy, we are waiting for you sir. Over." The pilot replied.

"Negative, do not wait for me. I am ordering you to leave now. Over." Clay said with a heavy heart. There was a silence on the end for a moment before the pilot responded.

"Wilco, good luck sir. Out."

Clay and Flint were interrupted by the sound of gunfire and death cries in the hallway nearby. Flint grabbed his carbine in one hand and gave the trigger to Clay.

"I'll buy you some time." He said heading to support his men. Clay went into the chamber and set the second charge, synched it to a deadman trigger, and armed it with a firm squeeze.

It was only then he noticed the gunfire had stopped and the only sound he heard was the door creaking open. Clay didn't hesitate spinning around, shouldering his carbine, and dumping a mag into the creature's torso. The tail stabbed at the barrel, knocking the gun from his grasp, immediately Clay pulled his 1911 firing all seven rounds at the beast, one even grazed its brow. The creature cocked its head and gave him a mocking smirk that made Clay's blood boil. He discarded his sidearm and from his left front shoulder unsheathed a combat knife, keeping a firm grip on the trigger as he took a fighting stance.

The beast responded by summoning a dagger of its own, an unsettled grin revealed its blood soaked teeth as it spoke.

"You are a warrior." 

"And I'll die one too." Clay said defiantly.

"You have earned the right to know my name, mortal. I am Arkal, General of the 17th Legion, Servant of the great Glasya-labolas and I will enjoy devouring your soul." The creature said before Clay charged him.

The creature dodged his attacks and in one thrust impaled Clay on his dagger. He lifted Clay to his eye level as he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Any last words?" He asked with a wide grin.

Clay looked at his watch even with the blood on it he could see the 8:32 am, to which he returned the beast's smile with his own.

"When you see that goat faced bastard Satan...Tell him Clayton Wright sent you." He managed before releasing the trigger.

The explosion was so violent and forceful that on the outside the entire northern face of Mt. St. Helens collapsed in a massive landslide, releasing a large mix of lava and heated rock. The ash cloud towered until it reached into the atmosphere, thankfully the evac helicopter was far enough away to barely feel the force of the explosion. Back at the ruins of the facility there was only one survivor. Arkal stood unharmed in the ruins surrounded by lava and walked on heated stone. He heard a sound like thunder on the wind, looking skyward he spotted what looked like a falling star heading straight for him.

The star stopped above him, the light at first made him squint before it died down to reveal a figure draped in golden light. The male figure unfurled his large white feathered wings, revealing the grandest of gold and silver plate armor covered in holy symbols and engravings, he was not armed but he looked like he was familiar with the art of combat. The demon growled before he summoned his blades and pointed one at the angelic being.

"Camael! Face me and meet your death!" He roared.

The angel chuckled under his helm, his eyes glowing through the eye slits.

"You forget Arkal, I am no mere angel. I am the Archangel of Courage, you are not my executioner. I am Yours!" Camael's voice boomed, he turned his right palm skyward, a beam of light pierced the ash cloud and to his hand came an elegant and beautiful longsword bathed in glowing white flames.

The demon flew skyward to meet him only for the Archangel to teleport behind him, in one stroke sliced Arkal's wings from his back. The demon general fell towards the earth, but Camael displayed his superior speed by teleporting and slashing the demon. When Arkal landed he landed with only one arm, his legs and other arm were severed, his tail was cut at the tip and even one of his horns was cut clean from his head. Camael landed softly on the ground, his boot falls filled the demon with an emotion he hadn't felt in centuries. The same emotion his enemies felt when he dealt their killing blows, fear.