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Deus Caos

As long as there is man, there will be war.

–Albert Einstein

The chaos of war has left many lives destroyed. Children left motherless, in sorrow at the midst of the bedlam. Panic spreads akin to a plague, a country leaderless, a man without love. Losing path of his life, the only purpose left is death. Death and vengeance. Regaining honor through the blood of enemies. Slaying demons in his path, his personal demons. Comeuppance, judgement, revenge, as the code of Hammurabi dictates. Eye for eye. The culprit shall pay with a dagger to the heart. If the blood of the innocents shall be spilled, then so be it. The angel shall kill his prey.

Nemesis will feast today, Ares's anthem shall be sang by thousands. Thanatos is a sweat release from the hell hidden by the shadow of a utopia. Innocence will be lost but not mourned. Better they learn today, while young as he did 10 years ago when his home was destroyed. War is when they tell you whom the enemy is, revolution is when you figure it out for yourself.

Warmongers gain on gratuitous profit, governments win on resources as the rich become richer, yet the poor and downtrodden suffer. Such injustices are found on humanity as Jaeger knew this. He hated humanity. He hated everyone. Such is the message of which he was the herald, to clean humanity. To purify it, pay its crimes in blood and tears and make the ultimate sacrifice. When humanity is pure once again, clean of sin, that is when the mighty lord Nyarlathotep shall return to rule over a united species. Its messengers shall come and make swift work of the last impurities by the non-believers of the truth.

Truth, truth shall be revealed, the crawling chaos shall be king among kings. Heaven and hell, good and evil hold little regard for the truth as it is the final word of the lord who speaks through the Church. Most would consider it delirium, others, madness in urgent need of a psychiatrist. Reasons why many members do not believe in such profession, calling it heresy as once stated by a famous actor who declared psychiatry is a evil in dire need of being stopped.

Controlling patients with drugs, a impurity for the blood, holy as it is the soul's vessel and substance. Main reason why Jaeger preferred to break necks, bloodless, let not the soul's salvation be eluded as after the battle of all time, the dead shall be resurrected to live in bliss. His Chillrend carries a myth of never dropping a single shed of the red liquid of life.

As the harbinger of tartarus fall to the clutches of Thanatos, a new angel rises, the reaper, a destroyer of lives. His sword shall feast, dine in hell. Blood will be spilled until it covers the earth in a blanket of red driven by the rolling heads of the giants. Titans will fall to his might as the blood swollen gods of war witness with pride. Revenge, a powerful desire. Invocation, the sin of wrath shall fill him until blind rage leaves the husk of a sorrowful man. An empty husk for sinful mistakes, a gate to Satan. The evils of mankind will be shown in all their righteous glory.

"Apathy toward the brethren divides countries, no matter how strong the bureaucratic bonds shall be" is the message the so called 'rebels' of the People's freedom. A ever lasting presence of the government is starting to wary many into thinking freedom is no more than a illusion. The start of a war against the 'rebels' has many enraged, other lost hope as shadows follow. Humanity's darkest attributes are apt to be revealed in the old habit of self-extermination as revealed: luxuria, gula, avaritia, acedia, ira, invidia, and superbia.


The ground contains the remains of a once glorious city. Streets full of crater holes and fallen buildings sporting once functioning neon sings, marks of a active city. Street lights remain mostly intact except for the bird nests atop the once red lights. Continuing the main road lays a fallen bridge that fell atop a small, red car splitting it in half. Next to it a rotten teddy bear is laying waste. Behind it lay thousands if not millions of charred cars that show signs of being left suddenly and without previous notice, as if a cosmic horror had befallen in front of the masses. Remaining intact, except for the shattered windows, not a single car, van or truck is with a remaining window. Broken glass lays in the pavement as if the witness of a massive explosion.

Near the main avenue lay even more military tanks. Charred, windowless and full of bullet holes. Breaking the scene is a single mini-van of a once vibrant yellow color. Inside there are 5 charred skeletons. Two adult specimens in the front, one male and the other female. In the back seats are two medium sized corpses at each side of the vehicle crossing arms in prayer. At the middle lays a baby sized decomposing body. The odor is such that it attracts flies from all corners of the street.

"Multiple cities have been annihilated in the ensuing chaos of the war between the rebel commandos and the UHA military, leaving millions homeless. We are right now in the remains of the battlefield after the incessant bombardment of the Invasion of Istanbul when the UHA fought against a incoming invasion by the 'commandos' back in January 1, 2 months ago. As you can see in the far right beyond that point no personal without a hazmat or special military grade suit is allowed to enter due to the radioactive fallout of the Alpha Omega bomb in the city of Zagreb deployed by the invaders. To this left we witness a refuge camp where thousands refuge under the care of the military base.

Next to me stands Master Sargent Sam Gibson. Sargent, can you explain to me what is the situation of the refuges in the nearby camps and what is your intake on the war?"

In the inside, a full fleshed base of operations lays in mantainance. Next to it is a still barely standing baseball stadium used to hold thousands of survivors living in horrible conditions. A short supply of water and food means that many die inside of malnourishment due to the sheer fact of the great quantity of refugees, those who survive must live of 1/4 pound of bread and half a can of beans for the day due to the priority the military receives. Underground corridors hold the camps until connecting to the underground system of tunnels and sewers constructed almost half a century ago due to the lack of building space aboveground. The government decided to build instead down houses and regular services as well as the sewer system, this reserved to the massive poor population in need of a place for shelter. However this places where rarely maintained and therefore living in those was seen as a social stigma. This safeguard measure saved countless lives. Perhaps too many, as noticed by the military's attitude and apathy towards the newly settled residents.

Next to the asian reporter Tricia Takanawa stands Sarge Samuel"Sharkface" Gibson, a sullen gorilla. Tall, slender and vastly muscular. He stands prominent sporting a special operations armor known as Strike with a F.L.O.A.T jet backpack. A rare sight for such a trivial post such a refugee safeguard. Normally seen in special covert operations conducted by black operation agents or "flyers" (soldiers who have pass the intense 'Titanus Praedator' program and therefore able to use a jet backpack or special operations armor efficiently and without major adverse effects. Only the top notch soldiers are able to pass.) A cheer, bright smile hides behind his lips as he speaks his first words,

"The situation is under control although, we suffer from a current lack of food and materials to sustain such as large population while meeting with humane quality standards. We are currently struggling with the immense disease ratios in the refuge camps nearby due to water contamination of the sewage system. A lack of medical equipment and personal is in dire necessity but we try the best we can to help these people overcome their situation." Sargent Gibson's look changes from his typical cheerful attitude to an unsettling internal grin, but, if he tells the truth about the real situation of the refugees and the atrocities revealed at the cost of his job and possibly freedom. However, not even he or his squad-mates, Rico "Angel" Vratski and Adam Arent know what is the dire importance of such vigilance that necessitates special operatives to run the buisness.

In reality the military does the least amount of job securing civilians, instead applying Martial Law over the camps and restricting civilian rights.

Tricia, known for being a stubborn reporter, dedicated to a extreme to find any leaks or revealing secrets pushes forward with more and more hard questions, only making achieving a standstill for Sam, pressured by his superiors into keeping the media's propaganda out of the way.

"And Sargent, what exactly is behind the scenes of this covert operations center? It is very uncommon to find a Strike special operations operative on civilian peace keeping." As Sam avoids the question, Tricia signals the crew to push forward into the iron doors to the base of operations and military prison where some of the major rebel leaders are found in captivity. "Sargent, humanity has questions and I'm going to find the answers it needs!" Suddenly, a bright red alarm triggers, a loud interruption is heard over an intercom,

"Attention all military personnel, unidentified air crafts found in close proximity. All military personnel go to your respective defensive positions under code red. Non-essential crew and civilians please report to you closet security bunkers at this very moment." End of intercom

As red lights flash over all the system people start to rush in hurry. Families are split and a riot starts immediately as everyone seeks shelter. Loud explosions soon follow in the background as Sam grabs Tricia by the wrist.

"What is gong on! What is happening?" She inquires to her protector as they hurry though a human stampede.

"We got to get out of here, now! No time to explain, hurry!"

Finally reaching a rather far room deep underground they take a brief time to breathe. Soon, their rest is interrupted abruptly as two rebel soldiers crash the room. Sam and Tricia hide behind a desk as the rebels search the four walls. As soon as they give the back to the desk, Sam shoots both with his handgun in the back of their heads.

"Stay here, whatever you do, don't leave this room. Here, have my handgun and shoot only if necessary." He promptly puts on his helmet as he starts to run into the main command center.

"But I don't know how to shoot a gun!" Before she could ask him, he was gone from the room. She puts the gun down and starts to pray for protection as she weeps her current precarious situation.

Arriving at the main hall, he finds at last his squad-mates and personal friends. Relieved that both of them are alive and kicking he enters the the center of command where he rapidly asks,

"What the hell is going on?" Before he can finish asking for information a video message is shown on the main monitor.

"We can't take them. *sszt* superior firepower *sszt* The Angel... Cerberus is here! Close... Cairo team... leaving with the missi... protect the silos!" As loud gun shot is heard and blood spills over the man as he looks in horror at a shadow above him. Before he can scream a swift stroke of a green blade is seen as the head of the soldier rolls down much the shock of the presents on the command center. The shock of such brutal death leaves many in utter shock, disgust, repugnance to the point some even begin to panic. One of the scientists even pukes so hard that passes out.

As the chaos starts to rain closer to their position, marked by louder booms and cries of war, an untested intern of no more 22 years of age starts to ramble in his panic and horror as he weeps out loud calling for the merciful grace of his god only to feel abandoned, "My god! What are we going to do?! Did you see what he just did? He just cut Jacob in half! Oh man! Oh God! This can't be happening! Why?"

Rico's kindred soul sits next to him, grabbing his hand firmly as he reaches for the despaired, "Get ahold of yourself Martinez! Cairo squad will be here any second."

"We ain't going to make it, aren't we?"

"We are trying to communicate with Lt. Abasi Rahotep to see if we can be rescued. For the moment, all we can do is prey." Reaching for the intern's hand m Rico gently calls him by his first name as they close their eyes in holy prayer in solace of hope.

"Cairo do you read me? Cairo?" Sam asks over the main communication center as trying to establish connection with the deployed elite squad of special operation soldiers, the finest batch of men and women the UHA army has to offer. Only sent when situations are of maximum priority or delicate procedure, only the Crème de la Crème eventually are able to join their larger than life ranks. "We need extraction, currently housing two wounded and over 10 active personnel plus 3 civilians. I repeat, we need extraction and pronto!"

Finally reaching the lieutenant, Samuel implores for a rescue effort for the wounded, only to be met with cold denial under bureaucratic excuses.

"Negative, our priority is clear. We must conduct the central operations safe export to off-center location. If they rebels get ahold of the informational contents the results will be catastrophic. I am deeply sorry but I am afraid we cannot jeopardize the mission for the sake of a few interns and civilians."

"These people are dying because you and your team refuse to help us turn the tide of the battle and rescue these young interns. They are inexperienced and terror stricken. They don't deserve to die like this. Please help us!

Abasi is known to be a stern man but with a good heart. Battle hardened, with over 20 years in experience, he knows how to react when forced to make tough calls. Taking a deep breath and hoping to having made the right decision he finally expresses his order,

"Meet me in the hangar of Bay port 2B in 15 minutes. Aziza and Ausar will meet you there along the rest of the remaining U.S.A Marines for your extraction. We cannot wait any longer"

"Sir, thanks." Sam's appreciation is heartfelt by the lt. who besides his usual stern demeanor, briefly displays a small smile.

"Rico! Jarred! We must rendezvous with Cairo team on Bay port 2B for extraction. Otherwise we will be stuck here in hell!" Sam cries out as they leave into the battlefield.

"How did they strike so fast? Is this even happening for real? Why is the whole ordeal so secretive that it does not even allow its crew to know fir themselves,yet the rebels are looking for something of vast importance?" Sam feels the air getting heavier, colder, pondering in his mind as a soldier to his side falls down with a bullet hole in his forehead, the laser barely missing him. The horrible situation quickly materializes itself as soldier after soldier fall. Quick and without previous notice the rebels advance further into grasping whatever the hell the damn thing they are looking for is. In their hands the results could be catastrophic as said by Abasi.

Remember the January 1 attacks all over the globe, culminating in countless destruction of many major cities and the detonation of the first Alpha Omega prototype bomb wiping out nearly half of northern Europe in a fallout winter is nerve cracking as he was there, live in action, in what came to be known as Shōugē de rìzi. His friend of childhood, gunnery Sargent Amanda Alenko bit the bullet at 11:25 AM on Athens, Greece.

Almost 150 thousands soldiers lost their lives plus 100 thousand plus civilian loses were reported that day alone. All of this reminds him of that hellish day where the 'Harbinger of Thanatos' showed how the willpower of a man is capable of such havoc. Fueled by the ex-cardinal, now turned anti-union terrorist who considers the unification of the human race as sign of the end of times and Tom Walker the anti-christ, the population once ferociously devoted to religion now turn in a new form of the'Crusades'. They the forces of heaven fighting against the impending human subordination to the beast.

Its forces, the military demons from hell itself, who committed atrocities in the name of Satán. Enslaving humans, recruiting them against the true king of kings, the right lord. They will not be swayed by the fallacious messages of unification. The fight of fights, of all time will be soon and they must be ready for death, as it will be a glorious victory for the forces of good, finally defeating the evil of this world once and for all.


The air is cold, hard to breathe. A calm, feisty ambiance is present as the night is energetic. Sweet, elegant drinks accompanied by flavorful food complement the celebrations. The christmas lights shine bright as the delicate snow falls from the starry sky. Weapons put aside, conflict and tensions apart. Time for a well deserved rest as the old year full of tensions passes to a new one full of hopes and resolutions.

Hope, a magnificent thing that is capable of making the weakest, downtrodden person in the direst of situations look forward into a dim light at the end of a dark tunnel signaling the new beginning of a better era. As the cold winter falls, purifying, letting go of all malfeasance, the people hope for a a new beginning.

As people cheer for the new year to come, the military cheers although the air is tense. While searching the drawers next to his bed, Sam takes a deep yawn. Looking at the mirror, he notices his eyes are sore from all the festivities which have taken all night and don't seem to be closing any time soon. Savoring remnants of beer, he takes a quick sip of milk that lays next to his left hand as it spills all over the counter.

"Ugh? What hour is it?" Looking at the clock of his computer, it says 3:05 AM. "Must finish this..."

"Turn that light down will ya?"

"I need to finish this damn report on guerrilla tactics, Rico."

"Really? We are on shore leave. Plus is not like having a bright light over my face is going to help me sleep either. You can finish that later."

"Ok, ok. I'll finish it later if it bothers you so much. But if I get this tardy you'll be the one to blame."

"Sure, just turn down that computer."

Laying his eyes to rest, Samuel gets a well deserved sleep. However, his mind, restless, dreams about the outlook of combat as he slumbers.

"Sam! Sam! Help me! I'm stuck! Please!"

Loud gunfires are heard in the vicinity as a seven rebel troopers storm the dimly lit room where they find themselves trapped. As they resume search through out the dark room, Sam stays hidden, quiet while his friend Amanda is trapped under rubble. A door lays in the vicinity. The strange men speak strange, intelligible insults in what resembles a asian language. Taking a bold peek, he notices a strange flag in one of the men's uniforms. He takes measure of distance and probability of success to escape undetected. Outgunned and outnumbered, it is a matter of time before they are found and executed, Samuel thinks to himself.

Noticing his friend's intent, Amanda grabs Samuel's hands in a sudden rush, looking at him with utter panic as shown in her bright, bloodied eyes.

"Please! Don't leave me!" Amanda mutters. As expected one of the men overhears and signals the others. 'Time to rush, now or never.', Samuel decides as he looks at his friend who's trying to grab his hand. "I'm sorry.", He lowers his body and crawls through the room until he reaches the exit undetected leaving his broken helmet in the ground unexpectedly at the side of Ammanda, only stopping at last when at least several houses of distance. As he catches his breath he overhears in the distance a loud yell proclaiming his name, followed by a loud gunshot,

"God, help me in this time of need. I need you! Please! Please!"

"Heum, geomsaeg-eul gyesoghabnida. Eotteon baljagug-eul chajgi?!" Samuel overhears in the close vicinity as the men are getting closer to his position. He opens his sidearm's ammo, only to count 10 bullets left. Hurrying to a nearby house, he enters through the open porch as he begins to search for any possible civilian weapons. Even so that the effectiveness of such is minimal to high grade armors like Titan and the special operations Strike, a well placed bullet can rip apart a Viper cadet or a Hydra soldier.

He enters a little, dark room. Presuming from the stickers of kids movies he guesses it is the room of the family's son. As he enters, he steps over a picture frame. Curious of what it contains he reaches for the light switch. In the bed lays a young, asian couple who are yet to enter rigor mortis. 'No sings of shots, must have poisoned themselves. May they find good rest wherever they are.' He reaches for the picture he grabbed to confirm what he presumed, the photo is of the deceased couple, but with a young baby in the woman's arms. He quietly leaves the scene and closes the door.

Continuing the search, he directs himself to the master bedroom where he finds: a couple of hairbrushes, some undergarments, a chip, one penny, a used napkin and a couple of handcuffs. Next to those items lays a non-safety M7-Carnifex by Freyr Armory. A standard handgun for covert policemen, small and conceivable but carries a punch, at the cost of ammo capacity. Effective due to the fact that many hit-men and professional criminals tend to use high resistance protection vests and helmets that make the common household gun useless.

"Ammunitions training, don't fail me now."

Continuing a desperate search, he hears a small crack noise. Turning around with his hands in the air he finds a little asian kid peeking thought the closet. Roughly 7 years. Black, straight hair that lengths towards the baseline of the neck. Big, puff cheeks. Brown, teary eyes.

"Don't worry, I am one of the good guys. Don't be scared."

The kid only shivers back into the closet. "Mama, papa?"

"Come here, I'll protect you and find your parents. I'm sure they are searching for you. Everything is going to be all right, trust me." Putting emphasis on the final two words as to avoid demoralizing the little child who just so happens to be the baby from the picture. He reaches for his TT-05-b pack behind his broken Hydra armor, lacking the helmet which he lost in a past firefight, the picture of the kid's parents.

"I think this belongs to you."

As the kid lurks behind the cover of the closest exposing his head he sees the photo and slowly approaches the strange, sullen gorilla.

"Want to pray for help?" Samuel asks trying to establish a bond between the two. The kid barely understands him, looking at him with slight confusion.

'Man, Rico must have rubbed on me somehow'. He thinks to himself as he looks into the ceiling as the kid reaches for his hand. "I guess you are not the only one who has lost himself." Looking at the kid's watery eyes who is still focused on his picture, he says suavely,

"Do you want to pray to God?"

The kid, even when not knowing what 'pray' means, reaches the strange man in a sight of compassion.

"Just close your eyes. He will help us. I'm sure."

"Baljagug-eun jib seukaen, yeogilo ieojil!"

"Damn! Hide! Under the bed!"

Under the dusty, dark space of the floor they hide as the commandos search throughly in hopes of find anyone.

"Keep quiet." The kid nodes in acceptance of the order as the brown door in front on them creeks as the handle twists to the right, letting a man wearing dark green boots enters. The only thing they are capable of seeing are the feet of the soldier walking around slowly scanning the room in which they are present. Stopping at front of the two hidden he summons a dog for assistance.

Lowering himself to greet the canine, the two are barely able to see the man's face and witness as the man smiles at the presence of his canine friend. He puts Sam's broken helmet for the dog to be able to sniff as Gibson contemplates the headpiece he lousily left as it was unnecessary anymore.

The dog follows the smell of sweat around the room before quickly stopping before the two at makes eye contact with the kid. Barking at their position it alerting the man of their presence while grabbing the kid's arm forcefully as the man drags Samuel at gun point. Preparing fort he worst, Samuel tightens his eyes as the air becomes light and the skin pale white. A great, reptant bright light flashes before his eyes as the trigger is pulled.

"God! My god!" He who is still young catches his lost breath. Looking at his soundings he finds himself at his desk, awoken, alive. Morpheus has bewildered the youth.

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