[AUGUST 20, 2035] [12:30 PM] [The Major General's Office]

He felt a little overwhelmed by the amount of folders that had piled up on his oak desk; from reconnaissance reports to his base’s status reports, all of it he had to sift through just to get a full picture of the situation that he and the 75,000 men and women under his command, find themselves in. He felt the sharp pain manifesting on his forehead again just as he finished his third cup of coffee, he fumbled around his drawers to look for a bottle of Aspirin when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come on in!” he shouted before downing two pills for his head-splitting migraine and tossing the pill bottle back into his desk drawers.

A tall, gray-haired man entered his office, wearing a black MP armband on his left arm and holding a thin white folder on the other. Major Hanlon saluted at him before handing him said white folder.

“Here's the report you’ve requested from the quartermasters at the armory, sir!”

“At ease Major. Please, take a seat.” Collins replied before he began breezing through the contents of the folder.

The report gave a concise rundown of the total ammunition stockpiled at his base; small arms ammunition are plentiful, and would probably last them for awhile but he had to keep in mind that the standard-issued MX rifle uses the 6.5x39mm caseless ammunition which they can’t produce nor reuse after expending. While they are sitting on millions of rounds, Collins would still need a contingent plan should they run low with their caseless ammunition.

Autocannon rounds and large caliber shells are also plentiful enough that they could probably wage war with multiple third world countries and still come out with only half of their stocks left. Another concern of his is their limited stockpile of precision guided munitions and unfortunately, most of their PGMS were relegated to being dumbfired munition after they lost connection with their military satellites. Collins was trying to think whether or not he should authorize its use or just shelve it for the meantime, when he noticed the weary-eyed Major staring blankly at his desk.

“How are you holding up, Major?” he asked.

“Oh – umm, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking sir…” Hanlon replied as he snapped back to reality. Collins can’t help but pity the Major when he remembers that he was supposed to be going back to the mainland for vacation with his family just a day prior to their transfer to this world.

“Do you have something in mind, Major?” He further probed.

“I’m not sure about the idea of letting that… thing, inside our base, sir.” Hanlon replied. “Don’t get me wrong general, but there are too many unknown variables and security risks here for my liking, sir.”

“That’s why I want you to be the one to set up this upcoming arrangement; you know best on how to minimize those security risks, Major.” Collins replied. “We have to respect Lord Drakul’s wishes, Major. And keep in mind that we are currently situated inside his border; the last thing we need is fucking up our first contact in this goddamn fantasy land.”

Hanlon sighed in defeat. “Understood sir. I’ll draw up our plans for tomorrow and I’ll run it by you ASAP.” The Major replied before he handed him back the report with additional notes inside it. Collins decided to shelve most of the satellite-guided PGMs for the time being while keeping most of the laser-guided munitions available for use.

“Good. If you need more men for the security detail, I can request some from Colonel Armstrong.” Collins offered.

“I’ll let you know, sir.” Hanlon replied just as he stood up from the chair, he was just about to leave the room when one of Hanlon’s captains barged in.

“Major! We have a situation down at the IDAP camp!”

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[1:10 PM] [IDAP CAMP]

The mood inside their large white tent was grim to say the least. That ANN reporter couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and now most of the representatives and coordinators in their camp are either scared shitless or stirring trouble among the rest of the volunteers into rioting against the MPs guarding them. Thankfully, their group’s main IDAP representative - Dr. Zyrah Keller, stepped forward and managed to calm down the agitated volunteers before confronting the captain of the MPs and demanding a meeting with one of Razor’s higher ups.

Now, Nathan and the rest of his fellow head coordinators are nervously waiting for someone of significant rank to enter the tent. On his left is Dr. Satoshi Matsumoto, a former JDR Captain now turned medical doctor, who is in charge of coordinating disaster relief and supervising their medical wards. In front of him is Sergei Popov, a brilliant engineer from Russia who’s in charge of overseeing all the infrastructure in their camp and the ones built by IDAP for the locals. And sitting beside the bald Russian man was a young female psychologist. Dr. Daiyu Liu, who was recently transferred to their group after their former education and counseling coordinator resigned from his position; she is now left in charge of the job left behind by their retired colleague.

Nathan was trying to think of something to say to alleviate the tense mood among them when three MPs entered the room.

“Good afternoon everyone. Dr. Zyrah, it’s good to see that you’re still fighting the good fight.” The tall gray-haired man greeted them as he stepped forward and sat down on the empty chair at the end of their table while the two armed MPs stood guard at the tent’s flaps.

“Good to see you too, Major. As much as I’d love to play catch-up with you, there is much to discuss.” Zyrah sternly replied. “For the last two days, you’ve locked down our camp and kept us in the dark about the current situation. Why, Major? You know, this is against international law keeping us locked up here.”

“I’m very much aware of that, Dr. Zyrah. But this lockdown is for your own protection; there have been… significant developments for the past couple of days.” Hanlon replied.

“Protection from what? If conflict between you and CSAT had already started, then it’s protocol for us NGO workers to immediately evacuate away from military installations. Especially if CSAT or whoever attacked you, is using experimental weapons against this base.” Zyrah replied as she presented the Major with a still frame of the captured video from the fight last two nights ago. The major noticeably shifts his weight forward.

“That thing is not from CSAT, doctor. Nor is it from any country that we know of…” Hanlon sighed as he examined the footage shown to him. “I’m still trying to think of a better way to break this news for you people, but I just can’t find the right words for it… But the truth is, we’re not on Earth anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Zyrah replied, breaking her visage of calmness and professionalism for a moment. The same feeling could be shared among Nathan and his fellow coordinators; their anger and nervousness was slowly turning into confusion by the Major’s answer.

“We are in another world. Dr. Zyrah. I wish I could give an explanation to the situation we find ourselves in, but frankly I have none.” The major replied. “We’re still trying to figure out a plan for this whole ordeal, especially when we are cut-off from reinforcements and have already encountered hostile creatures right after we’ve been transported to this world.” he further added as he brought out and showed them a couple of printed photos of horribly disfigured creatures lying dead around a battered guardhouse.

Nathan silently stared at the disturbing photos scattered at the table; he’d seen a fair share of mutilated bodies during his time in the marines. but seeing the bloodied remains of what looked like a creature from a sci-fi horror movie had nearly made his stomach churn.

“This is why I’ve ordered a security lockdown on your camp. Dr. Zyrah. Those things had attacked us the night we'd been transferred; they'd managed to break through our defenses and nearly overwhelmed us. We didn’t know what the hell was going on at the time and the last thing we needed was more panic from your camp and, god forbid, a civilian casualty.” Hanlon explained.

Silence permeated the tent for a moment as they tried to process the absurd information given by the Major.

“This – This has to be some kind of sick joke!” Dr. Daiyu fiercely exclaimed. “You’re just tricking us into being some kind of willing hostages w-when war finally breaks out between you and CSAT!”

“I really wish that was the case, ma’am, then this whole thing would be easier to explain.”

“If what you’re suggesting is even slightly true, Major. Then what now?” Zyrah asked. “What’s your plan for us IDAP workers stuck here at your base?”

“Well, for now, your best course of action would just be to stay put and wait for further developments in our situation.” Hanlon replied. “We’ll keep providing your camp with essential supplies, but I cannot guarantee that this will last long. Our food stocks would only last us a month tops, while our backup generators would probably keep the lights on for a month or two. Unless…”

“You want us to assist you soldiers. Да?” Sergei muttered.

“Yes, we do.” Hanlon replied. “We need your help in establishing Razor’s self-sustainability.”

“And what if we refuse? You’ll just force us by gunpoint, is that it?” Daiyu scoffed.

“No, we won't be Dr. Daiyu. Well, as long as the situation is not dire enough for us to resort to such actions. If it's any consolation to you people, you won’t have to work on anything that might void your status as non-combatants, we only asked you to assist us with our food and electricity production for the time being.” Hanlon replied.

“Alright, I’ll consider your offer, Major. But I have to discuss this with my other peers first.” Zyrah replied.

“Thank you Dr. Zyrah. I hope we can work something out.”

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[8:47 PM] [Razor Military Hospital]

“Huh that’s weird.” The intercom blurted out, which made the sleepy doctor nearly jump out of her seat. She’d been inside an airtight hazmat suit all day, and being assigned to monitor her colleague’s progress on examining blood samples taken from the elves and those zombie people was the only time she could rest her eyes.

“What is it, Dr. Edwards?” Bailey groggily asked as she stood up from her office chair to get a better look through the protective glass separating the observation room from the hospital’s lab.

“The blood cells of the elves decay far more slowly compared to ours. Doctor Bailey.” Dr. Edwards replied as before swapping the samples under the microscope. “If what I’ve learned from my DnD years is true… Then this anomaly could possibly indicate that these elves must have a longer lifespan compared to ours.”

“Heh, I didn’t know you’re into that stuff.” Bailey chuckled as she began documenting her colleague’s findings on a nearby computer.

“I was a big nerd back then, I used to be the president of the DnD club at my high school, if you can believe it.” Edwards smiled at her before looking back down at his microscope. “This is fascinating! The blood cells from those “zombies” are on the verge of death, but are being stopped by some kind of unknown black substance that is covering all their blood cells. This is a treasure trove for medical science Dr. Bailey!”

Bailey could share the sentiment that Edwards was feeling, everything she had heard and seen since they’ve been “transferred” to this world had defied all logic of modern science; and this was just the very tip of a large iceberg. But it’s gonna be sometime before they are given the liberty to examine the specimens in this alien world.

“Indeed, it is Dr. Edwards.” Bailey chimed back. “But we must focus on the possible health risks of these… elves and zombies might pose against us.”

“Right, Right. Forgive me with my excitement doctor; it's just – I never thought I would be the first one to gaze at the inner workings of another new species.” Edwards replied as he grabbed some papers from a nearby table. “Here it is, the test came back clean for both elves and zombies. Biosensors hadn’t picked up any type of unknown pathogens from all subjects, but patient 5 had tested positive for tuberculosis while patient 6 had shown signs of leprosy.”

“Well that’s disconcerting. I’ll let the other doctors and nurses know about 5 and 6.” Bailey replied. “Are you sure that there are no foreign pathogens on them, Dr. Edwards?”

“I’ve already run multiple tests on the samples while you’re asleep. Dr. Bailey, and they all produced similar results.” Edwards replied. “Well, that means we can finally take off these damn suits.”

“Not yet, Dr. Edwards.” Bailey replied as she grabbed her ID card and walkie talkie. “Run another test on the samples, doctor. I’ll check on my patients and pass the word about patients 5 and 6 to the chief.”

“Alright, Dr. Bailey. See you later!” Edwards bid farewell to her as she left the observation room.

The hallways were eerily silent, add the dim lighting, then you got a scene that looks straight out of a horror film. Only half of the entire medical staff were present during the transference event and now most of them are stationed at the ICU and Quarantine wards to accommodate the casualties from both the previous battle at their base and the ongoing operation. Thankfully, a couple of military police were assigned to guard the hospital, which brought some sense of security to Bailey and the rest of the staff.

After traversing the empty hallways, she finally reached the entrance to the quarantine ward. A decontamination station was set up at the double doors while two MPs and a nurse are monitoring everyone who enters and exits the ward. She signed in at the clipboard given by the nurse and quickly donned on a hazmat suit before passing through the decontamination chamber leading into the quarantine ward. She immediately made her way towards the nurses station, passing through rooms covered in white biohazard plastic sheets.

“Dr. Bailey! You’re right on time! We’ve finally finished cataloging all of the charts of the patients, ma’am.” The nurse sitting at the station greeted her; she could see more of the nurses resting at the back. The lack of manpower meant that most of them had to pull double shifts to compensate for it. If this keeps up for too long, then she’ll have to worry about nurses collapsing mid-shift.

“That’s Good.” She smiled at the weary-eyed nurse. “How’s the men?”

“Well, most of them are doing well except for PFC Timothy Brown.” The nurse replied as Bailey began sifting through the pile of clipboards on top of the counter. “He’s the only one showing signs of fever, ma’am.” The nurse handed her a chart.

Examining the chart, she beckoned at the weary-eyed nurse. “Follow me.”

After passing through multiple quarantined rooms and armed MPs, they finally found the correct room.

“Good evening, Private Timothy! How’s the wound?” Bailey greeted the man lying in the hospital bed and surrounded by a multitude of medical equipment as they entered the room.

“Still hurts as hell, ma’am.” She heard the raspy voice of the private as she began checking on the equipment that was hooked on him.

“Don’t worry, private. You’ll get better in no time.” She assured the wounded man. “Do you feel anything else?”

“I feel like I’m burning up doc.”

“That’s good, it means that your body is fighting any foreign bacteria you’ve been exposed to.” She assures him again as she checks the large bandage across his chest, he was the one with the worst injuries among the other casualties at the defense of their base. It was a miracle that he’d made it to the operating table in the first place.

“I won’t turn into one of those things, right doc?” The private chuckled as she finished inspecting the IV lines.

“No you won’t, private.” Bailey smiled at him before updating his chart nearby. “That’s all for now, private, if you feel anything different, just call the nurse.”

“Everything looks good so far, but I want to keep a very close eye on him. Okay?” Bailey instructed the nurse right after they left the room. “And call me if there are any changes among them, you got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” The nurse replied before she returned to the nurses station.

Before Bailey could breathe a sigh of relief, she heard her walkie-talkie crackling.

“Dr. Bailey, do you read me? Over.” A deep voice called out to her on the other side of the radio. She fumbled around her belt for a second before she could properly operate the walkie-talkie.

“Yes chief! Reading you loud and clear.” She replied before following up with an over. Most of them were still accustomed to using pagers before they were rendered inoperable since their transference to this crazy fantasy world.

“Dr. Bailey please report to Isolation Ward B, over.”

“Copy that chief. I’m on my way – over.”

After backtracking through multiple hallways covered in plastic and biohazard warnings, she arrived at the heavily guarded entrance to the isolation ward. It’s where the captured “zombie people” and elves were being kept away from the other patients; only a handful of medical staff was allowed inside, and an entire squad of armed MPs were stationed there at all times. Chief Blake was waiting for her just right outside the entrance to the ward.

“Chief! What’s the situation, sir?” She greeted the towering figure.

“It’s the elves. Dr. Bailey.” Blake replied. “They wanted to talk to you about something. They won’t tell me what it is about or why you specifically, so get in there and find out what the hell they want.”

Bailey had only interacted with the elves twice for the past couple of days; the first was when they were brought into the ER during the defense of the base, she was the one who managed to stabilize the gunshot wound of the elven knight – Rylor. And the most recent one was when she was doing a routine checkup on the female elf – Tanila, in which the elf was talking about some “oracle” and “that they were his people” before passing out from exhaustion. It is still a mystery among the doctors as to why Tanila was so exhausted despite the amount of rest she had.

“Yes sir. I’ll let you know what I can dig up from them.” She replied before she was escorted by two MPs towards the room where the elves were being treated. Bailey took a deep breath before opening the door.

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[????] [????]

The soft howl of the wind and the soothing crackle of the campfire had brought some sense of ease to her mind. Even though these woods are not exactly the same as the ones in her homeland, it still bore some familiarity and beauty of Azdarr’s blessings to the other mortals living in this world.

Ranger Lyndis and her squad had found the remnants of the main camp of the expedition; obviously it was deserted, with clues suggesting that the scholars and their knights had made their way towards the ancient ruins. She decided that they'd occupy the camp for the night and rest till dawn before venturing into rebel-held territory to search for the missing expedition party. She was trying to come up with some plan that'd make the search easier, when a burly human sat beside her.

Lyndis immediately leaned over the man’s shoulder and held his hand. He was the only one that could take the stress and exhaustion out of her.

“Are you alright, my dear?” The man asked her as he set aside his powerful strange musket and leaned back against her.

“Yes, I’m fine, my love. I’m just a little bit tired from our trek.” She replied as he buried herself deep into his husband’s loving embrace. “I pray to Azdarr that she’ll guide and protect us through this land.”

“Don’t worry hon, she has always seen us through dangerous endeavors before.” He assured her while stroking her hair. “I’m sure she’ll see us through this one too.”

She wished that they could just stay in each other's embrace forever, but alas, her respite needed to end prematurely when she heard the leaves rustling behind a large dead tree. She quickly stood up, drawing her bow towards it, while her husband and the other marines with them drew their weapons too.

After recognizing the distinct mana presence of a powerful vampire, she lowered her bow and called out to the darkness.

“It’s about time you’ve shown yourself, Madame.”

“I see that your senses aren’t hindered by darkness. Ranger Lyndis.” Lenore lightly chuckled as she stepped out of the darkness. Lyndis could sense more shadows lurking in the dark; no doubt it’s the Madame’s bodyguards.

“Let’s skip the formalities, Madame Lenore. What happened to our expedition?” She asked sternly.

“From what my agents could gather, your expedition party had been attacked by the rebel’s abominations during their ritual at the ancient ruins. Unfortunately, there were no survivors on site, but my agents had discovered that a small group had managed to get away with your… prized artifact.” Lenore explained. “They are probably around north of the ancient ruins. I suggest you start looking for clues to their whereabouts.”

“And you couldn’t spare some of your minions to track them down on your own?” Lyndis scoffed. “You know very well that if our artifacts were lost or destroyed, not only that our deal will not go through, but you will face the wrath of the entire elven kingdom. What’s more important than that, Madame Lenore?”

The pale petite vampire twitched when she threatened her with the consequences should they come back to their kingdom empty handed.

“About that. I have another concerning news for you, Ranger. Especially for the otherworlder in your group.” Lenore replied as she glanced at her husband. “A transference event had taken place just inside our borders; and a dozen men bearing that same flag on your strange hat had occupied the town of Bredon.”

The revelation made them look at each other with disbelief. A transference event only happens once a century, and the thought of another transference event happening just ten years after the previous had brought some concern on why the gods would do this in the first place.

“That’s why I had to recall most agents from searching for the survivors. I'm very sorry for the unfortunate demise of most of your ilk on that expedition. But if I find something, I’ll let you know.” Lenore sighed before disappearing back into the darkness again.

Lyndis turned to her husband to check on him. “Are you okay, my love?” she asked as she held his hands again

“Yeah – yeah, I’m good.” He stammered before sitting down and removing his hat. “As much as I want to meet my people, we still have to accomplish our quest first.” He sighed just as he stared at the small red, white and blue flag embroidered in front of his hat.

“If you want, we can handle the search for survivors while you go to your people.” She offered.

“No – no, our homeland’s alliance depends on the success of our mission, and it comes first on our priority list.” He replied as he wore his hat again and grabbed his powerful musket. “They can wait.”