He flew to close to the sun. His wings were clipped.

Daedalus warned Icarus to not fly to close to the sun, else his wax wings would melt. Malkovich had warned him not to die, yet he had taken a direct hit from what felt to be the sun. Almost as if he were Icarus descending into the ocean below, Mike felt light as he seemingly floated in a dark void that encapsulated his body. He couldn’t hear, see, taste, or smell, yet the only constant were the memories that passed by him.

Three minutes in silence. In nothingness. That’s how long it took before he found the strength to open his eyes. His vision remained blurry, yet his sense came back to him. A white haze set over the darkness, that was now being banished by the light the moon reflected. A pained sensation came from his chest, as it was immediately apparent that someone had token the time to remove his brunt plate carrier to bandage him up.

He flexed his fingers. They were in a small collection of mud. Glancing down, grime covered his entire body. Dried dirt and mud coated his exposed skin alongside the small coating of blood that made his lips dry. Struggling to look down his shirt, it seemed that his olive-drab undershirt had been removed and replaced by a crisp white bandage that circled his entire torso. Breathing was an issue, so he suspected that several ribs had been broken after the sudden attack.

Shifting his arm with immense pain running throughout his chest he brushed his fingers over the holster sitting on his thigh. It was empty. He took the same hand and brushed it over the only two remaining pistol magazine pouches that sat on his battle belt. They were empty as well. Not far away his carbine laid against the same wall he was leaned up against, the conclusion he had was that the princess had token his remain ammunition and had left with the others to reach the settlement, to reach safety.

“Mike.”

Not thinking, the sergeant immediately dived for his carbine, and in the blink of an eye he aimed the holographic sight at the person standing over him. Groaning in pain, he lowered the weapon and attempted to use his remaining strength to sit himself upright. Falling to the ground, the person walked over to him under the moonlight.

“Please, let me help you.” The woman spoke softly as she grasped his right arm and supported him as he laid against the broken wall.

Mike stared at the glowing red gem on the princess’s necklace. He couldn’t find the energy to speak as, but he strained his throat as he croaked out three words, “Where are we?”

“Stragea.” She simply answered settling herself next to him.

Confused, he looked around. Burnt trees, ruined buildings, heavy mist, and the smell of death. It seemed that he and the princess were near the center of the formerly growing settlement. Less than one-hundred meters away was a destroyed fountain, bodies littering the inside. All around, where buildings once stood, embers and ruins remained.

“This was supposed to be a recon mission.” Mike sounded defeated as he wheezed. “What the fuck are we doing here?” He asked forcibly.

Lecca remained silent. Her silver hair fell over her face concealing her distraught expression. The sergeant further pressed his questions of why he survived in the first place. His words echoed in the princess’s mind. Her left palm faced upwards as the light of the moon shined upon the two. A sudden soft pain emanated from her forearm as the man next to her grabbed it forcibly to ask a question.

“How…” Mike coughed as he pushed through the pain, “How the hell did I survive something that would’ve melted my armor and clothing to my skin?”

“I-” Lecca chocked on her words as a single tear escaped her eye. She couldn’t finish her sentence as her arm fell limp, making Mike let go. His anger was pushed aside. Her fear was displayed for the world to judge.

She truly did not know why she was breaking down. Her time in the military academy as a teenager, and her years building up her military career throughout her entire life trained her for direct combat. Yet she was used by the king as his hidden blade, used to eliminate any and all threats to the throne. Perhaps it was her sheltered life, perhaps not.

“It was magic?” Mike asked after some time of silence. His throat had fell numb providing a small amount of comfort, “If I remember correctly, you said you used nullification?”

Nodding, her silver hair fell to the side as the occasional call of nearby crickets and the quiet humming of nearby birds that feasted on the corpses scattered about filled the silence that had been left by the destroyed settlement. Were it not for the destroyed lands the two currently occupied and the heavy mist that circled the settlement, it would have been a perfect night for stargazing.

Straining his neck towards the sky, Mike watched the blanket of stars above glimmer and fade as clouds covered their light. The moon could not be masked by such clouds, yet its light was dampened when a large cluster passed by. It was this alone that reminded the sergeant that he was on the edge of the frontier and that he was long from home, as there wasn’t enough light pollution to block out the heavenly lights.

For the last month and two weeks he had been fighting. No matter how far he ran, no matter how far he marched: there was no escaping the reality of his profession, his job. It sickened him, yet he still had a job to do.

His job… No amount of training would ever prepare him for being isolated in the way he was now. Even though he still had his brothers, the cries of the crickets and the chirps of the crows would never hide the fact that no CASEVACs, no MEDIVACs, no resupplies, no CAS missions, no reinforcements missions had been run. Even now he was alone with only a single person by his side. With Lecca’s abnormal and supernatural abilities perhaps the tides of war could change, yet she was just a single person like himself.

All he saw was a fight. And all he wanted was to get out alive.

Rustling on the opposite side of town, the sudden crash of a building caused Mike to look up alarmed. Even in the near-pitch black darkness, the limited light shed by the moon showed a figure moving the opposite direction of both the wind and the collapsed building. He slowly picked up his M-5 carbine and aimed down its sights. Beside him Lecca mimicked his actions with his pistol.

Removing his left hand from his carbine, the sergeant motioned his hand towards a nearby building that was still standing. Silence was a must; their position would be compromised if any loud noise were to escape.

Snaking her arm around the soldier’s torso, Lecca lifted him off the ground and supported him on her shoulder. Though the building was less than one-hundred meters away, it felt like an eternity walking there under the constant gaze of the moon. Entering weapons raised through a destroyed door, Mike helped himself onto a nearby wooden chair next to a window, as Lecca looked at a bloodied sword sitting on the ground and thereafter materializing a sword in her right hand while holding Mike’s pistol in the left.

“You okay, soldier?” Lecca called out as she aimed his pistol at the open doorway.

Sergeant Randall gave her an amused look without moving from his rested position on the window ceil. “I’m operational, Chieftain.” He said sarcastically in a quiet, buttery-smooth voice.

Biting her cheek, Lecca swallowed her hesitation as she addressed the problem she created, “I apologize sergeant. I should’ve called our return to the capital city once we learned the status of the Volunteer Corps. I needlessly got good men killed.”

“Ma’am we’re well over twelve klicks behind enemy lines. We’re well surrounded by unknown hostiles, and we have nothing, not even force multipliers to get us the hell out of here.” Mike dully said as he tracked another building that collapsed across town, “I think worrying about those men’s deaths should be the least of you worries.”

“Sergeant were separated from your comrades, and we are both stuck out here without food or water.” She said in a harsh whisper, “If your men are killed, I find it hard that you would forgive me in any realistic situation.”

“If you dwell on it too much, you’ll lose yourself in the field.” Mike barked back looking away from his rifle. “You’re going to go insane if you focus on all the mistake and shit you’ve been through. People make mistakes, least the most we can do is learn from them.”

Lecca fell silent with no way to retort.

“I’ve had officers that made mistake, deadly mistakes. The only problem you have; is that you are not willing to step up to your role and take the lead. We can’t keep treating you like a VIP, but we will until you figure yourself out.” Listening to his words, she thought the sergeant was about to recall his entire life as a Ranger and some more, yet he shut his mouth after with no words to add on to the statement he just made.

Focusing on the doorway in front of her, she focused on the nothingness that just laid on the other side of the walls. This was hell. There was no other way to describe it. It was now curiously rather than later that she accepted her fate in this destroyed world. Her eyes still stung from the gun powder from the bullets she shot hours earlier. Soot covered her face and hair, and her clothes were now mud crusted. She hated it, but such was the life of a soldier.

In the darkness she and her Reclaimer stayed silent within their shared coffin.

Looking out the window, Mike’s breath stabilized as he raised the rifle that was sitting idle in his hands. He covered a group of shadows moving towards the building with the red dot reticle that laid atop in the holographic sight. A light whistle escaped his mouth. Lecca quickly turned around, her unbounded hair shifting due to her erratic movement.

Whistling twice, Mike patted the seat next to him. Seeing that he was in a defensive position, Lecca aimed the pistol she was given towards the window. Under the moon she spotted three unknown individuals approaching the building with what looked to be rifles in hand. She was confused on why Mike had yet to call out to them. She would have her answer in the next minute.

Coming to a halt the three individuals stood still. The leader, based of his position at the head of the triangle raised their right hand towards the window.

“Shit.” Mike tapped repeatedly on the goggles he had over his eyes. His night optical vison was dead, all he had was eye protection.

After receiving no response, the leader of the three conjured a small flame in his hands, allowing it to illuminate the surrounding area. Mike stared with wide eyes. Black helmets with darkened visors, blackened armor with a dark green cloak concealing most of their bodies. Like him they were professionals, professional soldiers.

“Star!” Mike called out with a scratchy voice. His finger slid over the trigger of his rifle.

The three individuals looked at each other, then back to Mike who was now sweating out of nervousness.

“Star!” He roared. “Answer or I will shoot!”

Before he could get another word out, a loud crack emanated from the leader of the three, the bullet landing square in the side of the building three inches away from the window. Jumping from his seat, and ignoring the searing pain in his chest, Mike tackled Lecca to the ground as a hail of bullets broke the half-opened window. Several glass shards fell on the floor with one etching a fresh mark on the princess’s face just below her left ear.

“Get away from the fucking windows!” Mike said loudly in Lecca’s ear as he practically dragged her behind the kitchen area.

“Holy Knight Randall! Give up the Princess of Yondel! This is your one and only chance to comply!” A man with a thick, muffled accent called out to the two within the building. Mike breathed heavily as he checked the magazine in his carbine, twenty bullets.

“You have ten seconds to comply!” The man shouted as he raised his weapon.

“What the hell!?” Mike responded, “Who are you people!?” Lecca looked at him confused as he reached for an item on the floor beside him.

“That is none of your concern! Hand over the princess now!” The man said pulling the trigger on his weapon sending a bullet straight into a collection of alcohol bottles sitting above the two in a nearby cabinet. A flood of liquid, glass shards, and wooden shrapnel fell to the ground in an instant.

Peering over the small wooden island she and Mike hid behind; Lecca spotted the three individuals waiting at the door she once guarded with their weapons aimed directly at her. Lowering her head, she crawled over to Mike as he ripped off a part of the bandage that covered his chest.

“There’s three of them by the door we came through. Whatever you’re going to do has to be fast.” She whispered.

“They would’ve killed us by now if they knew where we both sat.” Mike responded. “The bullets they’re firing has enough penetrative power to kill me through the wood, but they don’t want to risk killing you.” He explained as he brought a small carton out of a small pouch. “I need three seconds.”

“Done.” Lecca said placing down the pistol and holding her sword like a spear. “On my move.” She ordered firmly.

Moving to the backside of the kitchen alongside several wooden counters, Lecca prepped her arm alongside Mike. “Now!” She shouted throwing the sword.

The three tangoes reacted at the sword first, with the two behind the leader discharging their weapons at the sword that suddenly dematerialized midair. Their reaction times were stunted due to the sudden confusion, and they failed to react to the Molotov cocktail that was thrown at the exact same time. Landing directly at the three’s feet, glass shattered, and a bright light escaped from the now destroyed bottle lighting the three alight.

Picking up the pistol on the ground, Mike snapped out of cover and aiming down the sights with a single hand, in a similar fashion, Lecca materialized a similar blocky handgun in her own hand. The two emerged from cover with Mike shooting three bullets into the left tango killing them instantly, and Lecca firing four into the right target, her mana bullets completely desecrating the chest of the man she fired at.

With the final man putting up a visible blue barrier that was over twenty inches thick, Lecca stepped from behind the counter wielding her handgun. “Who are you, and who do you answer to?” Her orders were direct as she kept her finger snaked around the trigger of the handgun.

“Trust me Lecca, he’s not going to answer!” Mike warned as he picked up his carbine from the floor. “Just kill the bastard!”

“The sergeant is right.” The man said as he held his rifle firmly. “Nothing you can do will make me talk.”

Squeezing the trigger, a bullet of pure mana collided against the center of the shield shaving off ten inches making the man stumble back due to the impact of the round. “What the hell!” He shouted as Lecca remained where she stood.

“Randall, Thompson. We’ve reached Stragea with the remaining Volunteers and have linked up with Malkovich. What is your location, over?”

“Currently engaged with hostile contacts…. Break…” Mike quickly took out his compass. “Location: south of city center.”

“Copy, moving double time to your location, out.”

Moving from the island, Mike kept his weapon trained on the man as he stood next to Lecca. “Alright bud, drop the weapon and interlock you fingers behind your head before I put a bullet through your head!”

Still holding the shield up, the man reached for his helmet.

“Don’t you fucking do it!” Mike shouted.

“Recall.” The man said, and in the blink of an eye, he was absorbed in a bright light.

“What!” Lecca said as she covered her eyes with her free hand. She fired a second round, yet it hit nothing.

“Mike, blue forces are moving north to south! Watch your fire!”

“What the fuck?” Mike said to himself as he stared at the two dead bodies on the ground.

Publicly Available Information: Settlement of Stragea:

At the edge of the frontier and unknown territories, the settlement of Stragea was founded by farmers and scientists but was soon taken over by a known international crime syndicate with no known name.

Reports say that the settlement will be the first to encounter the Demon Lord’s armies and will fall in a matter of days.