The year was 2070, and humanity had just emerged from the shadow of a devastating epoch.
Two decades earlier, the world had been consumed by a war of unprecedented scale. The clash between two mighty alliances: the Black Alliance and the White Alliance had ravaged nations, toppled governments, and left the Earth trembling on the brink of collapse.
Now, on a battlefield littered with the remnants of destruction, a group of weary soldiers knelt, their ears ringing with the news that had just crackled through their communication devices.
General Kyiv's voice, steady yet heavy with emotion, delivered the message they had longed for but scarcely dared to believe:
"The world war is over. I repeat, the world war is over."
The remaining soldiers of the Black Alliance embraced one another, tears streaming down their dirt-streaked faces. These warriors, hardened by years of relentless bloodshed, had survived a conflict that had claimed the lives of half their comrades. Their victory over the White Alliance led by the superpower Wan was bittersweet.
Wan, once a nation that had dictated the global order for decades, had crumbled under the relentless assault of the Black Alliance, a coalition spearheaded by the formidable powers of Bako and Bexo.
The cost of victory was staggering. The Black Alliance had lost half its population, while the White Alliance had suffered even greater losses, with over 70% of its civilians perishing. Cities lay in ruins, economies were in shambles, and the survivors braced themselves for a future defined by famine, instability, and the daunting task of rebuilding.
Yet, as the world prepared to reckon with the consequences of the war, no one could have anticipated the greater catastrophe looming on the horizon.
Unit 13 of the Black Alliance marched back to their headquarters, a ragged but proud contingent escorting a group of prisoners. Their destination lay on the border between the country of Pixo and the ominous Rock Forest. The air was thick with tension and the acrid scent of scorched earth, but the soldiers clung to the fragile hope that peace was finally within reach.
Suddenly, the ground beneath their boots quaked violently. A deep, crimson portal tore open the earth, its diameter no more than two meters. From its depths emerged three figures, their appearance utterly alien. Their hair was a vibrant red, their skin a pale crimson hue, and their stature no taller than one and a half meters.
The soldiers froze, their weapons instinctively raised. The leader of Unit 13, a grizzled veteran with years of battle-hardened instincts, stepped forward, his voice laced with suspicion:
"Who are you? What's your condition? Is this some kind of skin disease? What cheap trick are you trying to pull?"
One of the strangers, radiating an aura of cold authority, took a step forward. His voice was deep and chilling, sending a shiver down the spines of even the most hardened soldiers:
"I am Guard Thanos, and we are monsters from the first Abyss "
The declaration hung in the air like a death sentence. The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, their minds struggling to comprehend the implications of what they had just heard. Monsters? The Abyss? These were terms that belonged in the realm of myth, not on a battlefield scarred by the horrors of human conflict.
The words sent a jolt of fear through the soldiers, their instincts screaming at them to act. Weapons were raised, and a hail of bullets roared toward the intruders. But the response was far from expected. One of the monsters was injured, a bullet grazing its crimson skin, but Thanos disintegrated into smoke, evading the onslaught entirely. Another deflected the bullets effortlessly with wings that seemed to grow from his hands, their metallic sheen glinting in the dim light.
Thanos turned to his injured follower, his expression devoid of sympathy:
"You are a loser," he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain.
His gaze then shifted to the soldiers, his crimson eyes narrowing :
"It seems you still cling to your cheap tricks."
The soldiers hesitated, confusion and fear warring within them. But their commander's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent:
"To the headquarters! We are facing monsters… monsters…"
His desperate cry was abruptly silenced as a red, whip-like appendage pierced his stomach. Around him, the other soldiers suffered the same fate, their bodies crumpling lifelessly to the ground. The winged monster had transformed his fingers into writhing tentacles, delivering death with terrifying efficiency.
Across the battlefield, similar reports flooded into the operations headquarters.
"From Mission 10 to Operations Headquarters: Five weirdos claiming to be monsters, with strange abilities… Tut tut…"
"From Mission 6 to HQ: Monsters, monsters… help us… tut tut…"
Inside the operations headquarters, confusion and disbelief reigned. Albert, the head of the base, stared at the reports pouring in, his brow furrowed. Could this be the work of surviving enemies? What kind of weapon could create such hallucinations? His mind raced, but no explanation seemed to fit.
" Coral " Albert called, turning to the woman beside him. Known as the War Fox for her strategic brilliance.
Coral met his gaze calmly, though a flicker of concern danced in her eyes.
Albert : "What's your take?"
"Let's send drones with cameras and speakers to the affected areas and observe", Coral replied.
Her voice steady. "We need to see what we're dealing with before we act."
Albert nodded, issuing the orders.
Moments later, surveillance screens flickered to life as drones transmitted live footage. An observer's voice broke the tense silence:
"Sir, look at Military Unit 5's location. Another red circle appeared out of nowhere, and two more of them emerged."
Albert and the others leaned forward, their faces pale with dread. On the screens, the monsters dispatched an entire military unit with horrifying ease.
Coral, ever the tactician, spoke with quiet astonishment:
"The drone's speakers exploded. I suspect it was a high-frequency sonic attack."
Albert gritted his teeth, grabbing the radio:
"From Operations Headquarters to the High Command, I request an emergency meeting. Immediately."
Back at operations headquarters, Naki, one of the controllers, stared at his screen in horror:
"Sir, it seems Unit 13 has been completely exterminated. There's no trace of them. What a massacre! But… wait… someone is still crawling."
Albert, the commander, leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing:
"He's not one of our soldiers. Send the two closest units to retrieve him. I want him alive. He must be questioned before the emergency meeting."
The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone. The monsters had appeared without warning, their abilities defying all logic and reason. The war between nations had ended, but now humanity faced an enemy far more terrifying, one that threatened to erase everything they had fought to protect.
As the drones continued to transmit footage of the carnage, Albert clenched his fists, his mind racing. The emergency meeting would determine their next move, but one thing was clear: the world had entered a new era, and survival was no longer guaranteed.
The world had survived a global war, only to face an enemy that defied comprehension. As the operations team prepared for the emergency meeting, one question loomed larger than all others: How do you fight something you don't understand?
To be continued....