The former soldiers of the Eldorian Army were ushered into Havenbrook, their expressions tense and guarded. As they entered, many of them slowed, their eyes widening in shock. Towering vehicles, unlike anything they had ever seen, rumbled through the streets, casting long shadows as they passed. Their initial reaction was fear—some recoiled, mistaking the massive machines for mechanical beasts.
One of the younger men gasped, pointing to a nearby armored vehicle. "What... what kind of creature is that?"
But the soldiers of John's battalion, who had been assigned to escort them, chuckled at the reaction. One of the men, Private Mason, patted the young recruit on the shoulder. "Relax, it's not a beast. These are our vehicles—machines we use to move and fight."
The explanation did little to ease the tension, though some of the Eldorians began to understand. They had never seen technology like this, and the sight of the powerful machines only added to the air of mystery surrounding John's forces. The towering walls of Havenbrook, the precision with which everything was built, and now these vehicles—it was clear to them that they were entering a world far beyond what their kingdom could offer.
"They're like steel giants," one soldier muttered in awe.
As they continued deeper into Havenbrook, the atmosphere grew less tense. The sight of homes, civilians, and children playing brought some comfort. It wasn't a battlefield, after all; it was a place where people lived and thrived.
Some of the Eldorian soldiers, especially the younger ones who had chosen to stay, began to realize they might have a new future here, one filled with opportunities they never had back in their own kingdom.
The former Eldorian soldiers were swiftly guided through Havenbrook toward a series of large, military-style tents that had been set up as temporary housing. As they approached, the soldiers escorting them explained that this was only a temporary arrangement, just until the new prefab houses were completed.
When they entered the tents, however, it became immediately clear that even this "temporary" setup was far beyond anything they had ever known. Electric lights illuminated the interior, faucets provided running water at a simple turn, and other modern conveniences, so mundane to John's troops, left the Eldorians completely baffled.
One of the Eldorians stood frozen in front of a faucet, staring at it with furrowed brows. "How does water flow from this without a well?"
Another cautiously approached a switch on the wall, his hand trembling slightly as he flicked it. The light overhead immediately turned on, causing a startled jump. "By the gods, what sort of magic is this?"
Their confusion didn't go unnoticed. John's soldiers, experienced in dealing with people unfamiliar with their technology, approached the Eldorians with patience and understanding. Private Emma "Flash" Carter noticed one group struggling with the faucets and stepped in. "No magic, just technology. Here, let me show you." She demonstrated how to use the faucet, turning it on and off with ease. "See? Simple as that. Just turn the handle, and the water flows."
Corporal Reyes, nearby, was helping another group with the electric lights. "It's not fire, just electricity. Flick the switch here, and you'll have light whenever you need it. Easy, right?"
The Eldorians listened, still somewhat mystified but grateful for the help. It wasn't long before many of them began to adjust, albeit slowly, to their new surroundings. What had once seemed like sorcery became understandable, bit by bit, as the soldiers took the time to explain.
There were many questions, and John's men answered them all with patience. They explained everything from how the heaters worked to how the showers operated, ensuring that their guests were as comfortable as possible in their new environment. Though the learning curve was steep, the Eldorians were quick learners, and their initial wariness began to fade.
After a series of questions about the strange conveniences they had encountered in Havenbrook, one former Eldorian soldier finally voiced the concern that had been weighing on many of their minds.
"How do we earn our keep?" the soldier asked cautiously, glancing at the others for reassurance. "We doubt you'll allow us to live here without giving something in return."
Before anyone could respond, John appeared from around the corner, having overheard the conversation. His presence instantly commanded attention, and the group of former Eldorians turned toward him as he spoke.
"First, we'd like your help with something essential—food," John said calmly, his hands resting at his sides.
"Help?" the soldier echoed, confusion evident in his voice.
John nodded. "Yes, help. As you've likely noticed, all of my men are soldiers. Not one among them has the expertise needed to tend to crops or manage livestock. That's where I want to hire some of you. Many of you know how to farm, how to work the land—skills we desperately need here. You could tend to the fields, ensure we have food for everyone."
The soldier's brow furrowed slightly, trying to make sense of the offer. "You want us to farm… here?"
"That's right," John confirmed. "In exchange for your work, you'll not only have a place to live but also food and security. This isn't just charity. There's a lot of work that needs to be done, and we need your help to make Havenbrook truly thrive. We're building something here, something that needs more than just soldiers."
The Eldorians exchanged glances, murmuring amongst themselves. Some seemed intrigued by the idea of contributing to the settlement's growth, while others remained skeptical, unsure of whether this new life could truly be theirs.
One soldier finally spoke up. "And what other work might you need from us?"
John's expression softened as he replied, "There's plenty to do. Aside from farming, we need builders, crafters, anyone willing to contribute their skills. It's not just about surviving here—it's about building a future, together."
Despite John's clear offer, skepticism lingered among the former Eldorian soldiers. Their expressions were guarded, their eyes narrowing as they processed his words. The air was thick with doubt, and it was clear they weren't entirely convinced.
One of the soldiers, his arms crossed and gaze unwavering, spoke up. "So you're telling us we'll be farmers now? After being soldiers all our lives, you expect us to just… grow food?"
Another soldier chimed in, his tone harsh. "And what's the catch? There's always a catch. You'll feed us and give us a roof over our heads, but what do you really want in return? To turn us into your pawns?"
John stood his ground, meeting their suspicions head-on. "I understand your doubts. This isn't a typical arrangement, and it's not what any of you expected after being in the Eldorian army. But there's no catch. What I'm offering is an opportunity—an honest one. You help us build a life here, and in return, you get safety, food, and a future."
The murmurs among the soldiers grew louder, uncertainty spreading like wildfire. They had been warriors, men conditioned to follow orders and fight for their kingdom. The idea of settling down to farm or build seemed foreign, almost insulting to some.
One of the older soldiers, his voice laced with sarcasm, asked, "And if we don't want to be farmers or builders? What then? Do we get thrown back out into the wilds?"
John shook his head. "No one's forcing you to do anything. But let me be clear—Havenbrook is a community. We work together for the greater good. If you choose not to contribute, then yes, you'll need to find another place. This isn't a prison, but it's also not a free handout."
The tension in the air was palpable, but John didn't flinch. He knew this would be difficult—convincing battle-hardened soldiers to accept a life of peace and productivity was no small task. But he also knew that they needed time to see what Havenbrook could offer, that this wasn't just a fleeting promise.
One of the soldiers finally stepped forward, breaking the silence. "You say this is an opportunity. We've fought for survival all our lives—this is no different. But you've got a lot to prove, Commander. We're not here to be taken advantage of."
John nodded, understanding their caution. "Fair enough. I wouldn't expect you to trust me immediately. But stay, help us, and see for yourselves. We're building something bigger here, and it's not just for my men—it's for all of us."
John let a moment of silence hang in the air, observing the former Eldorian soldiers as they exchanged glances. Then, with a calm but firm voice, he asked, "Now, do we have an accord?"
The soldiers hesitated briefly before nodding, one after the other, some more reluctant than others, but the agreement was clear. Their collective assent rippled through the group, signaling that they were willing to at least give John's offer a chance.
Seeing their nods, John wasted no time. "Good," he said with a slight nod of approval. "Now, I need to know who among you has experience in different types of work. Farming, construction, logistics, anything."
There was a brief pause as the soldiers looked around, unsure of who would speak first. But soon enough, one of the younger men raised his hand. "I grew up on a farm before the war," he said. "I know how to tend crops, manage soil, that sort of thing."
Another man, older with a weathered face, spoke next. "I was a blacksmith. I can help with metalwork, repairs, maybe even building."
One by one, the men began to participate. A few had skills in carpentry, others had worked with animals, and some had experience in basic mechanics from their time maintaining equipment in the army. The more they spoke, the more the group began to realize they had far more skills than just those of soldiers.
...
John stood at the head of the table in the command center, his gaze focused as the platoon leaders gathered around. The room was tense but filled with purpose. As soon as everyone had taken their seat, he began.
"First," John said, his voice commanding but calm, "we need to secure the area, including Crestfall. That means setting up checkpoints and ensuring that no hostile forces can move in undetected. We can't afford to leave any gaps in our defenses."
The platoon leaders nodded in agreement, understanding the gravity of maintaining control over Crestfall, the town they had liberated. It had become a vital part of their expansion efforts.
"Next," John continued, "we need patrols. Regular, rotating shifts that cover the surrounding terrain. We need eyes and ears on the ground to prevent any potential threats before they can get close."
Sergeant Mace spoke up. "We'll coordinate with scouts and split the area into patrol sectors. I'll have my teams ready by tomorrow."
"Good," John replied. "The third point is trade. Crestfall is going to be a key asset for us, not just strategically but economically. We need to keep the supply lines open. I want a secure route established between Fort Sentinel and Crestfall for regular trade exchanges."
Corporal Harris leaned forward. "I'll send a detail to ensure the route remains safe, Commander. We'll make sure it stays secure for both trade and reinforcements if needed."
John gave a nod of approval. "Perfect. Lastly, we need to establish defensive positions around all key areas. That includes the outskirts of Fort Sentinel and the entire perimeter of Crestfall. Trenches, watchtowers, barricades—whatever it takes. I don't want to be caught off guard by anyone."
Lieutenant Blake, in charge of defensive strategies, made a quick note. "I'll start positioning units and equipment immediately. We'll fortify the key points and have defensive structures up within the next few days."
John surveyed the room, seeing the determination in each of his platoon leaders' faces. "This is just the beginning. We've made progress, but we need to stay vigilant. Fort Sentinel and Havenbrook are growing, and with that comes more responsibility. Let's not waste this opportunity."
Lastly, John turned to Lieutenant Tom "Coyote" Green from Company C, who stood at attention. Coyote had earned his nickname for his stealth and resourcefulness in the field, making him the perfect fit for the mission John had in mind.
"Lieutenant Green," John began, pointing at the map where the mountains near Crestfall were marked. "We need to find the source of the horde that attacked Crestfall. Intel suggests they're coming from behind these mountains."
Coyote studied the map closely. "Are we looking to engage, sir?"
John shook his head. "Your task is strictly reconnaissance. Locate the source, identify the nest or stronghold, and once confirmed, you are to radio back for an artillery bombardment. We don't want to risk unnecessary casualties by engaging directly unless it's absolutely safe."
"Understood, Commander," Coyote responded, his expression serious. "We'll be silent and precise. I'll take a small team, track the movements, and if we find the nest, we'll call in the firepower."
"Good. I trust your instincts, Coyote. This is crucial to stopping any future Stampedes. If the nest is heavily fortified, don't engage. Just radio for bombardment, and we'll take it from here."
Coyote nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the map one last time. "We'll handle it, Commander. You'll hear from us as soon as we locate the target."
"Just be sure to stay out of sight," John added. "This is a recon mission first and foremost. Get in, get the intel, and call it in. We'll be ready."
With a crisp salute, Coyote left the command center to prepare his team. John watched him go, feeling confident but cautious. If Coyote could pinpoint the source of the horde, their artillery could wipe it out without risking a direct confrontation. It was a high-stakes mission, but with the right team in place, John was certain they had a solid chance of success.
...
Lieutenant Tom "Coyote" Green and the first platoon of Company C arrived at the foot of the mountain as the morning sun bathed the rugged landscape in light.
The air was crisp, and the team moved with determination. Their mission was clear: locate the source of the horde that attacked Crestfall and, if possible, destroy it.
Once they disembarked their vehicles, the soldiers made their way up the mountain, climbing to a higher vantage point.
It was from here that the drone had identified possible monster activity. The climb was challenging, but Coyote knew the importance of securing a good view.
When they reached the ridge, Coyote peered through his binoculars and spotted it: not a cave, but a massive crack in the earth.
Monsters were crawling out in droves, their grotesque forms slithering and lumbering away from the fissure. This had to be the source of the horde.
"Fort Sentinel, this is Coyote," he radioed back, keeping his voice low but steady. "We've confirmed visual. There's a massive crack in the ground about 10 kilometers outside of Crestfall, and it's swarming with monsters. Sending coordinates now. Requesting immediate fire mission, over."
The reply came quickly. "Copy that, Coyote. Target confirmed. But artillery is out of range for this position. We'll deploy GLSDB from the HIMARS. Stand by to mark the target."
Coyote nodded, already calculating the next steps. The GLSDB (Ground-Launched Small Diameter Bomb) would have the range needed to strike, unlike standard artillery. It was their best option for destroying the fissure and preventing another monster surge.
He turned to his team. "We're marking the target for GLSDB. Keep it quiet, stay sharp."
One of the soldiers, a forward observer, set up the laser designator, locking onto the center of the crack where the monsters were spilling out.
It was a precise operation, and every second mattered. If they didn't hit this crack hard enough, it might remain open, continuing to release waves of creatures.
"Target marked," the forward observer reported, his voice calm despite the tension.
"Coyote, this is Fort Sentinel. HIMARS launching GLSDB in T-minus 60 seconds. Brace for impact."
The countdown began, and the soldiers hunkered down. Coyote kept his binoculars trained on the crack, watching as the monsters continued to pour from the earth.
The sheer number of creatures made it clear that this wasn't just a small nest—it was a massive underground network.
...
The atmosphere inside the HIMARS command post was tense as six operators waited for their orders. Each one sat at their station, hands hovering over controls, eyes focused on the screens in front of them.
The mission was clear: neutralize the monster nest located just beyond the mountain range near Crestfall, out of reach of regular artillery but within range of the precision-guided GLSDB munitions.
The radio crackled to life, and John's calm voice cut through the silence. "You are clear to fire. Launch GLSDB now."
"Roger that, Commander," replied Sergeant Davis, the lead operator. He turned to his team. "It's go time, everyone. Coordinates are locked. Let's make this count."
One by one, the HIMARS units positioned around the base adjusted their elevation, their launch tubes aligning with the target's precise coordinates.
The operators double-checked their systems, ensuring each missile's path was clear and locked onto the laser targeting system that would guide them to the crack in the earth where the monsters' nest lay.
"Launch in three… two… one… fire!" A soldier called out.
In unison, six HIMARS units roared to life, unleashing a total of 16 GLSDB (Ground Launched Small Diameter Bombs) into the sky.
The rockets shot upward, the noise deafening as the first wave left their launchers in streaks of fire and smoke.
Within moments, the second wave followed. The precision-guided bombs rapidly ascended, cutting through the sky like silent arrows.
The operators watched their screens intently, tracking the flight paths of the missiles. The GLSDBs raced toward the target, traveling at high speeds, covering the distance between Fort Sentinel and the monster nest in seconds.
High above, the munitions adjusted their trajectories, locking onto the laser targeting system that had been positioned by Lieutenant Tom "Coyote" Green's team.
...
Lieutenant Tom "Coyote" Green stood on the edge of the ridge, his binoculars trained on the crack in the earth far below. The team had been keeping watch for nearly an hour now, their nerves on edge.
The air was still, except for the occasional wind blowing dust across the rocky terrain. Just as he was about to lower the binoculars, a faint, whistling sound pierced the silence.
His instincts kicked in immediately. The sound was unmistakable—the tale sounds of missiles slicing through the air. His heart raced as realization hit him. The GLSDBs were on their way.
"Missiles incoming!" Green bellowed, his voice cutting through the tension. "Duck and cover!"
Without waiting for confirmation, he threw himself to the ground, motioning for the rest of his platoon to do the same.
The soldiers followed suit, diving behind rocks and pressing themselves flat against the earth, their rifles clattering against the ground as they moved.
The whistling grew louder—sharp, eerie, and growing closer by the second. Green grit his teeth, bracing himself. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, his heart pounding in his ears.
And then, it hit.
The first missile struck with a deafening explosion, the ground shaking beneath them like a massive earthquake. Dirt, rocks, and debris shot into the air as the shockwave blasted across the mountainside.
Green could feel the force of it, nearly knocking him off balance despite being hunkered down.
His ears rang as the explosions continued—one after another—each detonation louder and more intense than the last.
The crack in the ground below erupted in a massive plume of fire and smoke, as the GLSDBs slammed into their target.
The mountain beneath them trembled violently, sending loose rocks tumbling down the slopes.
Green clenched his jaw, hugging the ground as tightly as he could while the air itself seemed to tremble with each blast.
For a few terrifying moments, it felt as if the very mountain was going to collapse under the sheer force of the bombardment.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the explosions ceased. The ringing in Green's ears began to fade, replaced by the low rumble of settling debris. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted his head, glancing around to check on his men.
"Everyone still breathing?" he called out, his voice rough from the dust.
One by one, his platoon members raised their heads from behind the rocks, eyes wide but alive. Some coughed as they shook off the dirt, but no one was seriously injured.
Green exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He pushed himself up into a crouch, still feeling the rumble of the recent explosions beneath his feet.
Looking down toward the nest, all he could see was a thick cloud of smoke and ash rising from where the crack in the earth had been. Whatever was down there, it should be dead.
"Damn..." he muttered, wiping the dust from his face and glancing at the destruction. "That was one hell of a show."