Hurried footsteps squelched in icy, viscous mud as frigid drops of rain poured down on the two men. They continuously brushed past large groups of ferns and low-hanging branches bristling with light blue foliage and small pine needles. One of them gasped with air just as the path in front of them opened into a familiar clearing composed of concrete and man-made materials. As they sprinted, a faint ray of light broke free from the clutches of voluminous, ash-gray clouds for a second only to be swiftly devoured by thunderous gales and unrelenting sheets of murky rain. But before the ray disappeared, it briefly touched the mens’ shoulders, revealing torn insignias that denoted Private First Class.

Bursting out of the last bushes of shrubs that marked the beginning of the rainforest, the two men immediately aimed for the huge metal gate several hundred feet up ahead. They were disheveled with soaked uniforms shredded in places on their knees and shoulders; bleeding scrapes and cuts messily decorated their faces and arms in gruesome patterns. However, the two men didn’t care and refused to stop running, adrenaline loudly pumping through their veins and fear single-handedly urging them forward to their destination. A plastic camera was held tightly in the grips of one of them, denying it the chance to fall. They had vital intelligence about their unearthly enemies on visual tape and dreaded what would happen if that information didn’t reach the ears and eyes of their camp’s superiors.

“Raise the alarm! Hostile forces inbound! Raise the alarm!”

One of the men decelerated quickly and kept shouting with anxiety and mounting terror towards the top of the colossal steel walls, desperately hoping for the sentries on it to briskly open their gates and prepare for battle. The other soldier, however, darted to the gate’s massive doors and slammed his entire body into it. A resounding clank was heard before it was drowned out by the torrential downpour. Hair and body drenched in sweat and misty waters, he began using both fists to rapidly batter the surface of the gate, emitting noises reminiscent of a World War 2 machine gun. It slowly began denting underneath the heavy pressure, but the soldier didn’t dare stop - he couldn’t stop. Far too much was at stake, and far too much he had sacrificed; everyone was counting on him, and he would rather die trying to deliver that camera than give up and allow the deaths of his brothers-in-arms to be in vain. Recalling the last moments of his comrades, the soldier gritted his teeth in utter rage, forcing his punches to be harder and faster all so he could just be heard through the walls.

Someone- please. Please! Someone hear me, dammit!

“CAM!”

A distressed voice suddenly screamed, immediately grabbing his attention away from the gate. He turned around before gasping in horror. The last of his squadron, Deckner, stood impaled by a nightmarish creature of pure white hair and sickly dark-green skin. Visibility was heavily impaired by the curtains of rain crashing down on the concrete, but Cam could easily identify the entity within a heartbeat. Elves. He swore internally and subconsciously touched the pocket of his tactical pants holding the environment-proof camera. Deckner remained stationary, firmly grasping with two hands an ebony spear that was drilled through his lower abdomen.

“RUN, I’LL HOLD HIM OFF! GO!”

Cam froze as he watched his brother-in-arms struggle against the monster.

“GO! I GOT THIS, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME!”

There was a lull in the ongoing storm as a flicker of lightning illuminated the area. However, in that fleeting moment, as if timed, Deckner momentarily looked away from the monstrosity and stared straight at him. With unfaltering confidence atypical of the usual Deckner, Cam witnessed the grin of his second-in-command for the very last time as a pin was subtly pulled from a grenade. That was when Cam awoke from his hesitation and sprinted as fast as he could away from the gates, the camp, and the nightmare sprawling in front of him. He had just entered the vicinity of the rainforest when an incredibly loud explosion erupted behind him, shaking rivers of rainwater off the canopies of tall, mutated trees above him.

Cam ran deep into the forest with reckless abandon, mind and emotions numb and as chilly as the winds buffeting him. No longer did he treat the base that he had just departed as safe or welcoming anymore, and it wasn’t because of the elf. He mindlessly recalled. Right before Deckner’s final moments, Cam miraculously noticed that Deckner wasn’t holding only a pin; in his other hand was a unique hand signal that was only used in the absolutely worst situations imaginable, the code for FUBAR - Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

As he continued to sprint past flora of all colors and pools of earthy ocean water, Cam finally registered why the signal for FUBAR was chosen instead of the one for retreating back to base: there had been no sentries on the walls the entire time.

Several brand new manilla folders were gently and carefully positioned on a well-varnished mahogany desk. Sat directly behind it was a middle-aged man with a scholarly displacement and composure, sporting a maintained Chevron mustache. On the receiving side was a youthful-looking, 25 year old man who nervously shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Jason Powell pursed his lips, wetting them slightly as he tried his best to appear patient, austere, and most importantly, calm. However, just sitting across from his superior made him perspire heavily. His few layers of clothing didn’t help much in that regard and his army jacket with the insignia of Specialist emblazoned on its shoulders seemed to be heavier within this particular office. Jason gulped subconsciously while restraining himself from tapping with his foot on the polished, wooden floor. For several minutes, his commanding officer perused the contents of the folders until a certain sheet filled with information was removed and placed right before Jason’s eyes. As he glanced at the thin paper for a second, a deep voice suddenly pervaded the air, nearly making him jolt up from his office chair.

“Specialist Powell. I hope you are doing well. I’ll be concise here. Neither you nor I wish to strike up a pointless conversation out of politeness, so listen carefully. I won’t be repeating myself. You have been promoted to Sergeant, and I congratulate you on that. I would make myself sound more thrilled, but these are difficult times. I hope you understand. Take this sheet with you and report to the General’s office. You may leave. Close the door on the way out.”

“Sir, wait - what? But- “

Jason immediately stopped speaking, lowering his head under the stern glower of his senior. He fidgeted with his fingers and reprimanded himself for even attempting to voice out his thoughts to his most despised higher-up. When Jason was younger, there were few instances in which he had continued to talk back, unheeding of that telling facial expression; he had suffered quite a bit as punishment for each time. Trying his hardest to suppress that awful memory of stove duty, Jason internally grimaced and quietly waited out the tide that was his superior’s petulant temper.

Not hearing any punishment being dished out, Jason swiftly stood up from his seat, properly saluted, and nearly sprinted out of the doorway with the thin slice of paper. As he departed, he closed the heavy oak door as softly as possible. The last thing he needed today was pissing off his already pissed-off boss because of an easily preventable mistake such as shutting the door with unnecessary noise. Jason let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes in annoyance, grumbling about how bothersome Geral was. He wondered again for the one thousandth time why he had such bad luck with commanding officers. As far as he could tell, no one else in his company had Geral - not even the other Specialists. Mentally groaning, Jason looked around the plain hallway with disinterest before setting off to the General’s office; it would be his first time there, and he wanted to make a decent first impression with such an influential figure, so preparing himself along the way would be the best option for him.

Walking slower than usual, Jason lifted up the sheet and glanced through it, hoping for an explanation as to why he was suddenly promoted in addition to being summoned by the General. Both situations could be good individually, he surmised, but there was an inkling somewhere in his head that told him having both at the same time most likely translated into something undesirable.

Great. Just my luck. Fantastic. Huh, why does being randomly promoted sound like a death sentence now? But at least I’ll get to meet the big man himself. If things go well, I might have a new superior officer soon. Fucking Geral.

Jason reread the sheet one more time before neatly folding and tucking it into his coat’s rightmost pocket. The sheet contained a basic outline of his profile, which included history, health, important military-related records, assessments from previous officers, and personal information. He didn’t catch anything new besides his enlisted insignia; it changed into a symbol with three yellow arrowheads stuck within each other, pointing upwards. Additionally, he had just noticed his salary, making him raise a brow with pleasant surprise.

Huh, guess there is a benefit to being Sergeant now. Forgot Sergeants get an E-5 pay grade. Nice. Very nice.

With a slight bounce to his steps, Jason quickly approached his destination, deciding to rip the bandage off as fast as possible. There wasn’t much preparation to do as the paper Geral gave him explained nothing - not even stating where he was being deployed nor whose company he was going to join. It might have been blank as well, Jason internally complained. He soon reached the building housing the General’s office and subsequently confirmed his appointment through a polite receptionist. Minutes later, the receptionist guided Jason to a specially designed room filled with intricate technologies and two large conference tables, and promptly left him there.

Seeing no one in the room, Jason took the liberty to sit down on one of the luxury chairs embracing the sides of one table. He then took a deep breath, sorting out his thoughts before standing up and saluting towards the foremost chair. There was a pause before a voice filled with age chuckled amusedly. In the direction Jason was facing, an well aged Peruvian man now sat, observing the Sergeant with keen interest. He then spoke with a hint of an impressed smile.

“At ease, soldier. I find it quite fascinating. It has been only 2 years since people received these… powers… but you seem quite comfortable using it. You even sensed me despite the fact that I was practically invisible. Care to tell me why and how?”

Jason released his salute and remained standing, respectful and knowing how great the difference between their military positions were. He didn’t dare move, either.

“Sir, yes sir! Sergeant Powell, reporting. During my childhood and youth, I spent much time reading and playing games about these powers because I found them interesting and exciting, sir.”

“Oh, interesting indeed. It really does appear that the younger generations fare much better than the older ones, how peculiar. However, you didn’t fully answer my question.”

“Sir, yes sir! I apologize, sir. After discovering that I had the supernatural ability to sense things, I experimented with it in my excitement, sir. As a result, I quickly found its advantages and limitations, using them to try maximizing my strengths and capabilities, sir. I was simply able to detect your shadow, and my ability is ranked as D, sir.”

“Hmm, that is intriguing. From what I’ve heard and witnessed, not many people adapted well as you and accepted their ability’s rank. Some even refused to be ranked. Why did you accept all this, quite easily - if I may add. You may speak normally now. You have my attention.”

“Thank you, sir! Growing up, it had been my dream to have any superhuman power. When I discovered two years ago that it actually came true, I was ecstatic. Any power was better than having none, after all. I didn’t see any point of complaining and refusing to comply when it would have made no difference as to what power I received anyways. Even if that wasn’t true, I had already made up my mind four years ago to join the armed forces. It would be laughable to join the military if I was noncompliant.”

The General took a minute to absorb what he was hearing while carefully scrutinizing the surprisingly sincere man in front of him. Hmm, he is completely different from what Geral told me. How strange.

“Hoh, what an honest man you are. Thank you for taking this seriously. Do excuse me for asking you those questions. They were a last minute test I made right on the spot to see if your character was as I had heard. You have proven me wrong.”

“Sir…?”

Jason was startled, caught completely off guard by the General’s last statement. What in the actual fuck? Someone was talking shit about me? It’s Geral, isn’t it? It has to be. He’s the only commanding officer I have! I knew that bastard didn’t like me.

The General coughed once before smoothly recovering with another unusual question.

“Sergeant, do you know why I am called General?”

“Yes, sir. You are now called the General of the Army because of the wars going on in the North and West. You also have a unique ability out of all the other Generals. It's ranked as B because you can manifest into shadows and- ”

Jason was cut off, but he didn’t complain. He was too busy trying to decipher the General’s barrage of questions that he had too little time to feel indignant.

“Indeed, that is all true, but the real reason why I am called General is because I was the only one out of the candidates to offer an argument to the Senate as to why we shouldn’t war with our… extraterrestrial neighbours up North and South. Interesting, huh? I vowed to them that if I became the General of the Army, I would do my damn hardest to prevent any wars from happening. But, that was until our Canadian brethren were slaughtered despite surrendering to them. By those damn Elves.”

The General turned to the side and spat on the ground, anger rising deep within him. His eyes narrowed while breathing deeply.

“And those monstrosities in the South, they killed our messengers, diplomats - they just killed and killed. Any humans living down there most likely perished by now.”

He directly faced Jason before staring at him, as if boring holes right through him.

“Do you understand why I’m the General now?”

Jason didn’t respond, only shaking his head horizontally once. Externally, he appeared tranquil and agreeable with what the General was saying, but on the inside he was shuddering in fear. This guy’s a lunatic! Prevent any wars? Bullshit! Didn’t the Senate nuke several of the Elves’ bases and then firebomb their forests?

Seeing that Jason didn’t understand, the General chose to elaborate clearly.

“If you turn a pacifist into a warmonger, what happens?”

Jason widened his eyes in realization before responding cautiously. Oh shit!

“... you get a warmonger more bloodthirsty than any other…”

“Correct, but not how I would put it. Sergeant, when our allies Canada and Latin America fell, there, I- there was nothing I wanted to do... other than rip those alien bastards to shreds. I wanted them gone, forever eviscerated and forgotten from the annals of history. They don't deserve to be remembered. All those innocent humans they slaughtered will be paid back in full and much more. That was what I promised when I became the General of the Army. And that is something that I will accomplish. Now, knowing who I am and what my goals are, I have achieved my goal and made my decision. From now on, I’ll tell you as your new commanding officer why you were promoted and why you are here.”

Jason was utterly speechless. He couldn’t even process how quickly this conversation escalated. Heart pounding and sweat freely falling down his neck and back, he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You were selected to be promoted not because of solely your achievements or power, but because of your loyalty to our country and your skills in espionage, infiltration, and outstanding bravery in every situation reported. Warrant Officer Geral tells me a lot of your successful exploits, and I do hope that you don’t let both of us down. You are being assigned to investigate an important intelligence base located in the Northern Front, specifically in the northwest. Should you complete this assignment with flying colors, not only will you become Command Sergeant Major instantly, but more opportunities for promotion and benefits will come flying your way. This is not optional, by the way. I suggest you prepare yourself for the journey up north in a week. North Carolina can’t hold a candle to where you’re heading in terms of severe climate. You are dismissed.”

The General internally exclaimed with glee. Geral, you owe me for this. That Cheval Blanc 1947 wine you’d been saving would suffice perfectly. Hmm.

Jason was already numb, baffled by what he had just heard with his own two ears. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for this. His mind was static, uselessly trying to navigate through the thick haze that was his shock. Being promoted for his skills was one thing, but moving to the war frontier where he could potentially die without even knowing how was a completely different notion. Nonetheless, Jason had to respond to his new commanding officer.

And Jenny. She’s going to kill me, I just know it. She might kill me even before I start the mission, hopefully...? Wait, no, I don’t want that. She can’t hurt a fly but she apparently has no problems hurting me. Sir General, please have mercy! Just why did I marry such a violent wife? Aargh! At least Geral wasn’t as bad as I thought him to be.

“Sir, yes sir! Sergeant Powell reporting for duty within a week!”

If I’m still alive, that is…