In anthropology, first contact is the first meeting of two communities previously without contact with one another. Notable examples of first contact are those between the Spanish Empire and the Arawak in 1492; and the Aboriginal Australians with Europeans in 1788 when the First Fleet arrived in Sydney.

Such contact is sometimes described as a "discovery", such as the British and United States did by creating the legal theory of the "Doctrine of Discovery". It is generally the more technologically complex society that is able to travel to new geographic regions to make contact with those more isolated, less technologically developed societies. However, some object to the application of such a word to human beings, which is why "first contact" is generally preferred.

First Contact (anthropology), Wikipedia.

Part 1: Invisible World

Two Hours Earlier…

Peshawar was long gone. The nation of Pakistan was a place long forgotten. The hellish bright light above burned down on the floor that Sergeant Randall and the others currently walked on. A time estimate would’ve been around two hours, that’s how long the group had been walking. That was a vague estimate made by Sergeant Randall on how long they had been walking.

Fatigue had set in.

“Ah shit. Ah, this fucking headache!” Green complained as he used his gloved hands to cling to his face. “Simon. Got any water left?” He asked while wiping a light sweat from his forehead.

The helmetless Simon searched his battle belt as he looked for his canteen. “Yeah-here you go.” Pulling the small olive drab canteen out he handed it to Green, “Don’t drink it all. I just have enough for myself as it is.” He warned as he poked a finger at his near empty camelback.

“We need to find something.” Thompson told as he patted Patterson on the back, “At the very least some sort of cover to protect us from this light.”

“Yeah. Figures. I would imagine your SERE training never taught you how to survive in a fucking void.” Patterson said jokingly to Staff Sergeant Baker who was trying to keep the light out of his eyes.

The group continued to the walk the void. It wasn’t long before they came to a stop, with Thompson making the decision to rest for the moment. Some tried to gain some shut eye, while others attempted to scout the area looking for a source of water. Laying on his now empty camelback, Sergeant Randall stared upwards as hundreds, if not thousands of thoughts ran through his mind trying to make sense of the situation, he and the rest of the squadron were thrown into.

“Hey Randall.” Sergeant Malkovich called out in a tired voice.

“Yeah?” Randall responded as he turned his head towards the Sergeant.

“You ever wonder why both Simon and Green decided to become Rangers?”

This question confused Randall as he tried to come up with a response. “I uh-I’m sure they have their own reasons why they joined. I mean you can technically sign up once you’re eligible to be selected in RASP.” Randall paused as he glanced at the two Rangers huddled next to each other sleeping. “From what I’ve heard they enlisted after the attacks.”

Malkovich let out a quick yawn as, “They did? My brother did the same.” Disgruntled, the Sergeant twisted and turned as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but after several failed attempts, he simply returned to the conversation, “Mike, right? Mind if I ask a question?”

Randall shifted his head to look at Malkovich. He wasn’t used to being called by his first name. Even out of uniform, his friends always called him by his last name. “Shoot.”

“What do you think of this place?” The man questioned as he gazed at the void above. Following his gaze, Randall too found himself looking at a never-ending sea of white.

“I-I don’t know.” Randall began as he rubbed his eyes, “Perhaps this could be some Hell or Heaven. Perhaps this could be some purgatory where we are just waiting for judgment.”

“Or we did enter another godforsaken plain of reality.” He said finishing Randall’s sentence.

“Yeah. But that’s the part that makes no sense.” Randall said as he rubbed his semi-blood crusted hand along the ground. “If we really were transported to this place, I would’ve expected for the teleportation to be more drastic, like an explosion or something.”

“Or a magic portal.” Malkovich said. “Back when I was a teenager, I liked to read all sorts of stuff. Some of the material included web novels.”

“I fail to see how that relates to magic portals?” Randall responded as he gazed at Malkovich hoping to gain an answer.

“It’s a common trope. Some angsty kid with daddy issues get sent into a world as a hero.” Malkovich explained as he brought up the nipple of his camelback, “My friends always joked around about it during high school, but I never saw the appeal. For starters a kid would be fucked if he was suddenly whisked away from his world, then to throw him into a position of power? I don’t think so.”

All Randall could do was hum along at the information provided as he shut his eyes.

“Hey Lieutenant, you see that? Is it a mirage?”

Scrunching his face and opening his eyes gently, Sergeant Randall quietly awoke as voices came to the right of him.

“Lower your rifle man! C’mon be real there’s probably nothing out there. It’s all just flat desert.”

Putting away his binoculars, Patterson turned to Captain Thompson who was sipping a small amount of water he had left in his canteen, “It’s not too far. We should investigate the mirage.” Patterson mentioned as he handed his canteen out to the captain.

“Are you sure? It could be our water-deprived bodies showing us a mirage?” Thompson questioned as he brushed off the offer and took out his knife to draw the estimated distance from their current position.

“If all of us are seeing it then it is more than a simple hallucination.” Randall said as he rose from his camelback and grabbed his carbine. “If anything, we should investigate before we get to that point.”

“We should get moving.” Patterson suggested as he looked down at his plate carrier and viewed how many magazines he had left.

One by one the Rangers slowly collected themselves and began the perilous journey through the white wasteland in the hopes of reaching the mirage that was spotted not long ago. Their sense of direction was almost non-existent due to a supposed magnetic field screwing with their compasses, and that all forms of navigation by either sun or star was now impossible.

Walking beside him, Randall noticed how Green kept rubbing his finger against the magazine in his rifle and attached to his plate carrier. “Problem with ammo?” He asked calmly making the boy almost jump from the sudden start of a conversation.

“U-Uh yeah… I’ve got five mags left.” Green quietly said. “You think we’ll be able to resupply wherever the hell we end up?” He asked with a downcast expression.

“Three magazines spent?” Randall said before adjusting his answer, “No. If what I think is true; we will have more than a few difficulties attempting to resupply, perhaps more extreme than I initially thought.”

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that shit?” Green questioned with wide eyes.

“We have to consider it a possibility. If not, we’ll be unprepared.” Randall responded with a shrug.

With a heavy sigh, Green fell to the back of the group much to Randall’s annoyance. He had a difficult time understanding why his answer failed to get through to the PFC, yet he knew just like the other men around him that the impossible should be considered in this “extreme” situation they had all found themselves in

As the distance between them and the mirage swiftly closed, it was clear that the anomaly was no hallucination. Cutting through the confusion, Captain Thompson directed his men away from the mirage as a precautionary measure, while Patterson and Simon kept their weapons trained.

“What do you think it is?” Richard asked sparing a glance to the captain.

“No fucking idea, but it could be something we could use.” Thompson coolly explained. “If anything, it will get us out of this shithole.”

“Great.” Richard mumbled as he gazed at the mirage. Beside him, Malkovich and PFC Simon spoke to each other about the nature of the mirage, with Malkovich being steadfast that the anomaly being a possible way back to Peshawar or Earth.

The small talk soon quieted down as Thompson rose from his knelt position and he slowly grew closer to the mirage ignoring the protests of the other Rangers. Randall and Richard soon followed, and together with the captain in the lead, the three slowly approached.

Over the shouts of his teammates, all Randall could focus on was the cold sweat that ran down the side of his head, and the constant throbbing pains at the front of his head.

Part 2: Survivors

+30 Minutes since transfer...

Opening his eyes, the bright lights of the void were gone. In the absence of light, darkness crept the edges of his vision, disorienting him. He squinted his eyes letting them adjust to the sudden change, and when his eyes no longer burned from it, he glanced around, left to right. Resting his head on the ground below, he stared at the ceiling above. His ungloved hand patted the ground next to him and he felt a familiar object, the M-5. Letting out a sigh he began to piece together what had just happened in the last five minutes. All he remembered was crossing the mirage then suddenly blacking out.

He was taken out of his musings; shouting came from the other side of a door. Alarmed at the sudden disturbance, he raised his head and grabbed his handgun from its holster, the green night sights remained at the center of the only door in the room he occupied. As the door swung open two men moved inside, after a split second of hesitation, he lowered the handgun and the leader of the two addressed him.

“Ease up Sergeant! Though it is good to see you up and running, I was afraid that you wouldn’t wake up from that slumber of yours.” The person speaking was none other than Thompson, and to his flank was Corporal Richard.

Randall quietly nodded as he holstered his handgun, “Sir where are we? How did we get here?”

“We don’t have intel in the shithole we’ve ended up in. All we know for sure is that we arrived less than thirty minutes ago separated from each other. Right now, it’s just me and Richard that have managed to link up.”

“So, are we fucked or what?” Richard quipped gaining a scowl from Thompson.

“We’ll figure that out later! I need you two to get your asses into gear!” Thompson said as he faced the door when he heard several loud footsteps.

Richard nodded as he moved away from the center of the room to a collection of what looked to be several wooden boxes, while Randall and Captain Thompson moved to the opposite side. Randall went prone as there was no other objects for cover or concealment, while Thompson hid behind a large metal pot.

A veil of silence overtook the dark room. A single torch at the only entrance provided any light. The sounds of the footsteps suddenly stopped, and through the door a voice broke through making the men tighten in response to the sudden provocation, “Oh-great knights of thy land, I implore that you come out at once and cease hostilities!”

The three exchanged glances amongst themselves. No one said a word as Captain Thompson slung his rifle and brought his now two clenched fists and bent them to the shoulders repeatedly three times. Sergeant Randall and Richard both scrambled for their gas masks attached to their belt and pack, while Thompson did the same.

Randall took off his helmet and pulled out his black gas mask. Holding his breath and closing his eyes, he drew the mask onto his face tightening the two lower straps. Placing his hand over the exhale membrane, Randall released his breath letting the seal attach to his skin, and once more he breathed inwards while blocking the filter attached. Once done he took a short moment to catch his breath before placing his helmet back on.

“Toxins?” Randall whispered his warm breath coating his skin.

“Don’t know.” Thompson replied. “Me and Richard spotted something abnormal earlier, some kind of purple cloud, could be a chemical weapon.”

“How many are outside? They know we’re here.” Randall asked as he kept his weapon trained on the wooden door.

“Possibly five or six. Keep your shots on target but watch for civilians.”

The voice from the other side continued as he knocked on the door making the others behind him shuffle in anticipation, “You knights must be curious of where you are? I can answer that if you step out. Oh, and by the way our mages have been tracking you since your arrival, there is no point in hiding.” With desperation in his voice the man continued, “I must implore that you leave that room as your counterparts are causing problems and are currently in a standoff with the Royal Guard! Please for their safety I must have you go to them now!”

The men kept their words to themselves as they all shuffled in confusion. The words being spoken by the man on the other side of the door made no sense, but they were not going to risk their own safety by opening the door.

“Sergeant?” He whispered as he balanced his rifle on a small wooden crate.

“Keep it quiet.” Randall looked towards Thompson and saw that he was lowering his rifle.

Though a huge risk, the choice of communication could prevent needless deaths, and hopefully an explanation to where the hell the three were currently.

Sticking his head high enough to be visible over the cover, Thompson took a risk as he directly communicated with the unknown as he concluded that a possible communication between the two would be better than fighting with their already dwindling supplies and ammunition. “-How can we guarantee that? As far as I’m concerned this could end in a bloodbath for both sides.” His words, though distorted through the mask, were straight, deliberate, and unyielding.

The other person jumped on their side of the door as they did not expect to hear a response. “What?”

“I want answers before we even make the choice to lower our weapons!” Thompson continued “My men do apologize for dropping in unannounced, yet we had no choice in the matter! Our circumstances forced us out of a conflict zone and possibly now into another, all we want to do is to get together so we can cool our heads, then we can talk!” Thompson lied deliberately as he raised his rifle.

“Dear knights I must implore that you come out! We can make concessions to your demands and-” The man cheered with enthusiasm, but then he was suddenly cut off as Thompson laid down what he could observe from the current situation they were in.

“From what I see my team is currently stuck in a room with no other exit. You and your people have the only exit blocked, and if these negotiations sour, you will storm this room and kill us all.” The person took a deep breath as Thompson finished his speech, “I presume from this that you know it is true. You probably have around ten to twenty men outside, and even if you did get inside there would be casualties for your men!”

The person on the other side seemingly flinched as he backed away from the door. Light murmurs were distorted as he told the majority of the knights to fall back. It was a compromise, but a fatal one as the man only had five other knights to act as bodyguards. “There, I’ve sent them away, I just have enough for my own personal safety, I’m sure you would understand.”

“Prep to restrain him but be ready to kill them." Thompson said as tapped Richard on the shoulder. “Open the door and don’t make any moves!” He barked while aiming down his red dot sight.

“Okay, just don’t do anything!” The man yelled as he slowly pressed his hands on the wooden door. “I’m entering!” He warned as he kept his hands on the door. The door made a loud creek as the aforementioned man walked in with his hands glued to the door. The men watched with their weapon raised as a middle-aged man with long blonde hair, dressed in white robes adorned with pearls along the neckline.

“Oh great knights-!” As the man attempted to speak walking to the middle of the room Richard sprung from his cover and punched the man in the face. As Randall and Thompson covered him, Richard withdrew a pair of zip ties. Randall kept watch on the door dumbfounded that he was pointing his rifle at what looked to be five medieval knights.

“Great Sage-!” One of the men tried to shout.

“Put down your weapons! I swear to God I will put a hole in this fucker’s head!” Richard barked as he shoved his boot into the back of the restrained sage on the ground.

“Great Sage!”

“Drop the sword! Drop the sword!” Randall shouted this over and over as he attempted to get the men to comply, his finger took the slack off the trigger as he anticipated a response from the men. “Put the fucking things down!”

“These are knights!?”

“What are those!?”

“Put it down!”

One of the men stepped forward with his blade pointed at Richard and Randall. “Watch out – Down!” Thompson bellowed before his voice was drown out by the sudden cracks that mimicked a lightning bolt.

In an instant several more sudden cracks echoed throughout the chamber leading to the man slumping over, blood pooling onto the ground. Silence then ensued as the man chocked on his own blood. He had multiple gunshot wounds in his chest, throat, and stomach. His stomach was ripped open by the intermediate rounds destroying several sensitive locations leaking out his entrails and making him die in a silent agony.

“That’s enough-Guards stand down!" Amongst the men a feminine, almost bell like voice came from behind. Adorned in a simple dark blue dress, a silver haired woman stepped to the front. Her brown eyes focused on the barrel of Randall’s M-5. The Sergeant looked at the corner of his eye towards Thompson, in which he gained no response.

The guards lowered their weapons. “Good. Now would someone explain what the hell is going on?” She ordered annoyed at the current conflict.

“Ma’am! These me suddenly breached the perimeter and began to run wild within the castle-”

“I see.” She crudely interrupted, “And what of you people? I’ve ordered the other mages on the other side of the castle to stand down. I just want to hear you explanation.”

“Sir?” Corporal Richard cast a worried glance at Thompson who was staring at the woman with wide eyes. Several hundred thoughts ran through his head as he began to raise a clenched fist above his head. Richard brought his aim from the man known as the ‘Great Sage’ and in turn joined Randall as the two kept their weapons aimed at the woman.

“I expect an answer.” She chimed while wearing a slight frown. Randall shivered as she stared directly into the eye that he used to aim down sight.

“Would you believe me even if what I told you is a lie?” Thompson asked making the others glance in confusion at the question. His voice was strained and told the untold story of being through hell in what felt like the last three days without sleep.

The woman cocked her head to the side as she responded, “You men are truly strange. The previous person I spoke to said something similar. ‘Plausible deniability’ or something like that.” She stumbled out the words as if she didn’t understand what was spoken to her.

“Sir?” Randall chocked out as he slightly lowered his rifle only leaving the barrel pointed at the woman’s pelvis.

"It’s a risk but are you willing?" Thompson asked as he turned his head towards the two behind him. Immediately understanding the words behind the question, both nodded silently. “Alright. Stand down.” He then said prompting the men to lower their rifles fully.

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Richard chirped.

"Shut it before this gets worse." Thompson said in return.

As a new silence grew over the room. The only one that dared to break it was the woman who had presented herself not long ago. She elegantly stepped forward into the room and stopped where her heels became coated in the crimson blood that came from the deceased man on the ground.

With a clenched fist and downcast expression, she placed her hand above the center of her chest and spoke gently as she gave a curt and slight curtsy, “My name is, Leccamaradel Emma Araish- the first-born Princess of the Kingdom of Yondel. It is a pleasure to be acquainted with you Holy Knights.”