Pure darkness enveloped what Mike saw. There was no sound, no light, no smell, nothing to feel. When he first opened his eyes, he knew he had entered a world of nothingness. Even the silence of night-time Africa, or the hollow streets of a long-forgotten frontier, there was always something to probe and take attention from one of the human’s many senses. Yet even though he could only feel the sweat on his skin and the dampness of his clothes, there was nothing around. He was in a true void. The absence of anything and nothing.

If he was supposed to be at peace, he wasn’t. To say he was on edge was an understatement, however, there was nothing he could do. A mere man couldn’t change the world.

Finding hidden strength, Mike furrowed his eyes in confusion and anger. He was supposed to be awake.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a small child.

One with brown eyes, brown hair, and pale skin.

The child in a way reminded him of his younger years.

But it wasn’t him.

There were small differences…

He never had shoulder length hair as a child.

Standing up on nothing, Mike waddled over to the child and knelt. He was speechless with intrigue.

Reaching out his hand, the child does the same.

The child’s small palm fit perfectly into Mike’s larger hand.

“Who are you?” He breathes unsettled by the sound of his own voice.

Seemingly coming to life like an animated doll, the child looked around in awe of this unknown place.

“The end?” A girlish voice emerged from the child.

In that moment the child vanished before Mike could even blink.

Falling.

He was falling.

He was falling into the deep black above and below.

If he was dreaming, he kept falling.

Further and further away.

Landing in an unknown place that looked no different than the others, hundreds of uncontrollable questions ran through his mind as he pursued for answers. He felt his world simply shatter as he once more fell with his back facing the unknown below.

Feeling the wind wiping against his skin, and his shaggy hair being dragged everywhere, Mike could only wonder what would’ve happened if he had managed to stay beside the child. Though the goosebumps he felt were only reserved for the reaper, there were answers there? He asked himself.

Nothing mattered. Especially now.

“Mike, I have a question for you: there’s something going on behind the scenes, isn’t there? You and Leccamaradel…” He knew those words. They were owned by Lieutenant Andrew a long time ago.

Staring ahead into the void Mike answered, “Is something wrong?”

“Be real with me here, Mike. That’s fraternization, no less with a foreign officer. You’re not battle buddies, you’re something more.”

He was still falling. Now he was falling in between shattered memories and forgotten thoughts. He knew the consequences of love, how many had he lost to it? Too many… There was nothing he could’ve said to counter what was asked of him. He was once comfortable with the word, yet he couldn’t deny that he was beyond going back to being nothing but a forgettable face.

“Lecca—”

Every time he heard her name—

Denial wasn’t his strong suit. Neither was lying.

“I know. We’re beyond that.”

Letting out a violent cough, Mike groaned in agony as he shook himself awake, his head slamming into an unknown surface. He had nodded off after reaching the edge of the forest. That was the last thing he could remember. Grasping onto the nearest wall, the staff sergeant took a deep breath as he pulled himself against something pushing him down. His body felt incredibly hot, and he wanted to stand even with the burning soreness coursing throughout his legs and chest.

Before he had another moment to struggle, an additional weight covered him. A large olive-drab blanket was draped around his shoulders, and a frosty hand touched his forehead and stroked his brunette hair. Though he winced at the cold sensation, he found himself nearly falling back into the deep slumber that had captured him for some odd number of hours. At least I’m alive, Mike told himself not wanting the alternative.

Blinking once, a bright smile looked down upon him.

She didn’t have a clue—absolutely without a doubt—Lecca did not know how beautiful she was.

Laying in her lap, Mike could only wonder how he was so lucky.

Not missing a beat, Lecca gentle lowered herself and touched her lips against Mike’s. The moment was dangerously intoxicating for the two.

“You almost died on me again.”

You almost died in my arms, again. Those words were too difficult to say.

Mike forced a smile upon his face. Death was something he had accept long ago.

When he graduated Ranger School, ten of his fellow classmates died a year later.

He had seen too many men shipped home.

“It—wasn’t my intention.”

Slowly rising off her lap, Mike turned around and brushed the hair out of her face. He grasped the back of her neck and placed their foreheads together.

“Don’t leave me again.” She croaked fighting tears.

Without a word, the princess reached out her hands and placed it on his large shoulders. Mike put more pressure on her neck as she looked directly into his shining brown eye. With their body’s straightening against each other, they once more felt the soft sensation of their lips pressing together. Upon breaking, both of their faces were a gentle pink as the princess sunk into his chest and breathed heavily not wanting for her lover to see the emotional state she was in.

“I can’t lose you. It’s to late for me to move on.” Wrapping her arms around his large chest, the princess held him close—close enough to feel his racing heart pounding against his chest.

He could never find the proper words. Holding her closer, the Reclaimer remained silent as he ran a firm hand up and down her back.

“You crossed the line, princess. Interfering with naval operations is a sure way to die!” Noticing where they were, Mike saw twenty paratroopers standing in the fuselage of a large airplane. The one that had spoken to them was a man that went by Jump Master Howler.

“Three minutes till AO!”

Furrowing his eyes, Mike felt anger coursing through his veins, “What operation is happening!?”

“Lightning strikes on several key border camps in the Frontier!” Jump Master Howler boomed. “This is just the opening for the larger campaign against the kingdom! We attack the closest border and open a path for our armor to punch through the weakened plains. Our attack was supposed to be in conjunction with a strike by the navy, but the 3rd Fleet was crippled, and the first batch of ships are now on fucking hold because some terrorists that kidnapped the president attacked! Fucking masked fucks! We’ll be relying on guerrilla operations from now on. It’s a war of attrition and the Senate doesn’t give a shit!”

“How many people were committed to this?” Lecca asked.

“We’re already stretched thin! 350 of us are airborne right now, with another 500 standing by as rear-echelon forces.”

Mike’s eyes widened, “That’s not enough for an invasion!”

“It isn’t! The main force of 5,000 is standing by to deploy! It’ll take two days for them to get here! If all goes to plan, a total of 8,000 will be in theater by the end of the month!”

“Those senators are crazy!”

“We got enough recruits filling up the reserves. Talk about shop—this conflict is going to boost our numbers like crazy!”

“What President Harding’s orders?” Lecca was anxious.

“He’s still MIA, so as the director for naval intelligence.” The Jump Master said.

Mike held his breath.

“The Senate isn’t wrong for this response.” Lecca said, “Yondel could not control its hero, thus this response was bound to happen.”

Howler nodded in understanding.

“I wish things could’ve been different your majesty.”

“God, I fucking miss waiting.”

Mike’s comment did not go unnoticed by anyone. Some of the paratroopers huffed and chuckled.

“Green light jumpers, go to work!”

The twenty men let out howls and growls like a pack of wild animals. Lecca was petrified by the display, but a burning fire in her heart let a smile breach the frown that plastered her face. She did not know what side she belonged to anymore. This federation she was serving was invading her homeland. The very same homeland that had attacked Zivaland without reason. All she knew was war.

“You fucking heard the man! Hook up!”

Raising their left and right arms, the men attached their parachutes to the static line above them.

“Check gear!”

One by one, the men patted and examined their gear for any deficiencies that would cause death upon exit.

“Standby! Ramp opening!”

With a lousy step, Jump Master Howler stood in front of two buttons that were appropriately colored red and green. Before he made any move to them, the man looked at his wristwatch through a polarized visor. A small, toothy smile was shared with the men for a mere second before he placed is palm on the red button. “Kill them all lads!” He screamed pressing the button. A harsh gust of wind flooded through the opening bay of the fuselage, and as the ramp lowered the world beyond was revealed.

“Ho-the-fuck-ah paratroopers!” The leading sergeant boomed as he stepped up to the ready line marked by yellow tape.

In the early morning light, both foreign passengers set eyes upon two other military aircraft chocked full of paratroopers awaiting to jump over the area of operations. Just below the edge of the ramp, Mike saw the sprawling forest contained within the Frontier, and in between the scattered trees were small villages and buildings. The invasion of the kingdom had begun, and Captain Thompson’s mission had failed. I wonder if he is still alive… Mike wondered as the Jump Master looked over the edge with no fear.

“Skies are blue gentlemen—”

A great fireball emerged from the last plane in the formation. The most left engine was torn to shreds and secondary explosions erupted from the fuselage tearing the plane apart and sending burning wreckage to the deep forest below.

“Holy fucking shit!”

“Contact! Unknown contact! Zebra Three, scratched!”

“God damn it Zebra 1, stay on it!”

Mike felt his hands tighten around the princess. This was all too familiar.

“Jump Master, we need to go now!”

“Hold on—”

Projectiles in similar vein to bullets ripped through the fuselage. The lead sergeant and his cohort of junior NCOs were ripped to shreds. Blood, organs, and tattered clothing fell to the ground, their bodies remained suspended in the air thanks to the static line attached to their parachutes. Covering Lecca with his own body, Mike pushed her to the front of the plane as the other junior paratroopers screamed in terror with several detaching their lines to help a soldier that had survived the assault.

“Detach them!” Howler moved away from the edge of the ramp. “Sergeant Wilkinson, take charge!”

“Done!” The man said as he detached himself, five others following his lead. “You two, get fire on those guys! The rest of you, get them off the line!”

“Secondary!”

“Open it!” Howler cried releasing the mechanical lock.

With a harsh tug of the hole-ridden door, the first soldier present aligned the sights of his combat rifle at the rapidly closing forest below. He spotted scattered dots on the forest floor moving rapidly with the aircraft. There were spells that existed to enhance physical capabilities, but the young rifleman was gambling on the fact that he could hit anything with his weapon. Still, these were priority targets. There was always a weakness to powers like that. This would work in his favor.

Paratroopers were issued with a powerful 7.55 mm rifle for combat operations. Though new in the field, it had already proven itself with ten years of experience: the wooden furniture was accompanied by cold steel. Noting but two primitive metal sights existed, but that was more than enough for the marksmen of the airborne corps to hit targets well beyond 300 yards. With the flick of his thumb, the paratrooper set the selector to full-auto, and he tapped the side of his firearm ensuring a bullet was loaded in the chamber.

He pulled the trigger.

A stream of 7.55 mm anti-personnel rounds tore through the speed of sound. The burst of gunfire lasted no more than three seconds, and the rifleman tracked the fifth bullet as it tore through the sky in a bright light. With glaring red eyes did he watch the bullet fly just in front of one of the moving dots below. If his calculation was correct, three of the thirteen bullets fired would’ve impacted the target, the round held within the firearm was more than capable of ripping a person’s limb off, but even he couldn’t be sure that it would be enough to stop an attacker with mana-infused defensive armor.

From the corner he and the princess were seeking shelter under, Mike watched as the gunman pointed his rifle left of the door before firing another burst.

The staff sergeant was sure he heard a scream from bellow over the raging bark of the engines.

“This is Uniform Platoon in the blind! Taking overwhelming magic-based fire from unknown contacts! Request immediate support!”

“Zebra 1-1 responding to your mayday call. We’re approaching from the northwest, airborne troopers will move from your six, over.”

“Hang on gentlemen! We’re doing a low pass over the convoy, standby!”

Decompressing the trigger of his rifle, the paratrooper provided an unrelenting stream of fire upon the hostiles below. Within mere seconds his weapon ran dry, and with a frustrated cry, the man launched the empty magazine onto the deck and replaced it with one fully stocked with bullets. Once more engaging the enemy, the shards of light embedded themselves and stabbed the backs of the ranged attackers. From leather armor to scaly hides, the bullets did not discriminate as they tore large holes wherever they landed. The recoil of his weapon was severe, and the man struggled to keep the burning hot barrel on target as the jerk pushed deep into his shoulder.

Rising from the corner, Mike staggered over to a window on the side of the fuselage. Behind armored and reinforced mechanized carriers, at least twenty soldiers from the Federation’s army moved slowly up a dirt road. A cloud of black smoke, dirt and soot shot up from the forest ground ahead of the convoy making their progress slow, yet not fully halt. A secondary cloud erupted from the ground; the shockwave tore the leaves off the nearby evergreen trees. Deafening pops of heavy machine gun fire occupied the once peace-ridden Frontier and a storm of lead cut through the initial opposition that attempted to halt Uniform Platoon.

With a sharp jerk of the flight controls, the pilots of the aircraft gained rapid elevation letting those in the rear see the carnage below. Fires engulfed the tree line surrounding both sides fighting below the canopy. The amber light within the greenery was the same burning hue as the morning sky that they slowly rose to. The deep blue above fought against the dark of night. And now the forces that both fought for light found each other at their throats. The cycle had repeated.

“It’s magic!” The rifleman said moving away from the doorway. “It’s anti-air magic!”

“Princess! We need you for this one!” Jump Master Howler ordered as he removed the last corpse from the static line.

“We don’t have the time!” Mike protested firmly. He left no argument to be had.

“Mike!” She was just as firm, “We’re going to get hit again!”

“Just keep our elevation above the canopy. I can’t risk losing you!” He said grasping Lecca’s hand tightly.

“Mike…”

“We need to get you to Glacies!” he growled, “You’re not expendable. You’re still the princess.”

Jump Master Howler tilted his head, his eyes hidden behind the polarized visor, “The capital of Yondel? Is there some kind of operation happenng?”

“Gentlemen we’re losing fuel! Going to have to set her down at airfield Juliet!”

Descending once more from the sky, the plane just skimmed over the top of the tree canopy. With the airspeed lowering at a rapid pace, Mike and Lecca stumbled to the rear of the fuselage together. Their already soaked boots were now marred with crimson blood as they stood over the dead paratroopers. In just mere seconds the world had reminded them how cruel it was. Mike felt Lecca’s hand tighten around his own. Their brown eyes looked upon the lifeless expression of the once alive leading sergeant.

“Rook, Jamie, Kendrin, James, Saws.” Sergeant Wilkinson said, “You’re now on security detail for those two. Make sure they get to where they’re going and complete their mission!”

The main gunman that was at the secondary doorway, silently nodded his head as he backed away letting Kendrin close the hatch and lock it shut. Removing a second empty magazine from his rifle, Rook tossed it on the ground before kneeling over one of the dead paratroopers and taking the spare magazines that were still intact. He shoved them into the harness on his chest, and he looked Princess Leccamaradel directly in her eyes, his own hidden by the sunglasses on his face and the cloth scarf over his face.

With the paratroopers unlatching themselves from the static line, they all gathered behind Rook. Mike watched the men with a troubled face, turning away towards the ramp, he held distant eyes. “There is no billet for this. Everyone here is aware that Lecca is the Princess of Yondel. We need to reinstate her as the rightful heir to the throne and we need someone to get the Senate to stop this invasion. This is unwarranted and people are already being killed over this misunderstanding.”

“Please, there’s been enough blood.” Lecca had long agreed with the staff sergeant’s plan. There was nothing set in stone, but something needed to be done, and now that her own ears had heard those words, she was preparing herself to once more uphold the mantle of princess.

Rook looked over his shoulder to Kendrin. He provided almost an unmoving nod. Mike barely noticed it as he looked at the Corporal in charge of the four paratroopers beside him.

“We’ll do it the right way.” The corporal said.

The plane came to its final decent. With he wheels already deployed and the flaps still intact deployed to lower airspeed, the landing was rough as the entire fuselage shook as rubber burned on dirt. The metal ramp was locked in place and had torn the packed down ground up throwing small rocks and grass everywhere behind the plane. Mike threw his arms around the princess as he left his back to the open world behind them.

“Get the fuck off my plane, gentlemen! I need to be airborne in less than thirty!”

“Go! Go! We need to hike to the objective!” Sergeant Wilkinson shouted to his men. “Drop your chutes and grab what you need!”

Those not assigned to Leccamaradel and Mike stormed off the plane leaving their parachutes on the deck. Jump Master Howler began to clean up the mess and stepped aside for the newly and suddenly formed squadron to step off the plane. Under the gentle warmth of the sun, the seven individuals stood in the middle of the tarmac surrounded by snow-covered evergreen trees. The had flown far enough to reach a location detached from the rest of the Frontier, yet no close enough to walk to Yondel without great struggle.

Feeling the bitter cold brushing against his moist skin, Mike removed his soaked leather jacket and left it on the ground. He was left in nothing but a form fitting black turtleneck and his chest brown utility pants and the black eyepatch covering his left eye. He was the furthest picture from the Ranger he used to be, however, the mission had changed. And so, it was only natural for him to adapt. He looked at Lecca, he hadn’t noticed it on the plane, but she had found the time to get out of her torn business suit, and now she wore a baggy pair of onyx-grey pants, a white undershirt and onyx-grey utility blouse.

“We need weapons.” Mike said to Kendrin.

“There should be a stock of some old rifles in that barn.” The corporal pointed to an old, rotting building just down the tarmac.

Without another word the two OMFS agents took off, the paratroopers hot on their tail.

Reaching the main door and tugging it open, Mike stepped inside with Lecca behind him and bolted for the nearest wooden crate in the righthand corner. He threw open the top and gazed within. There laid two wooden, bolt-action rifles, and four boxes of ammunition. Taking a rifle out from the box and throwing it to the princess, Mike quickly unlatched the safety and opened the bolt. With calloused fingers, he opened the first box and shoved seven bullets into the rifle’s internal magazine. Shoving his two boxes into his pants, Mike tossed the last two to the princess who did much the same without hesitation.

There was a long road ahead of them. They needed to make every shot count if there was any chance of stopping the deaths of hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions.

Watching from behind, Lecca saw the same ritual Mike had performed every time he went on mission within the last seven months. He was a man born for war, and now he stood in the freezing cold of the Frontier walking shaken, yet not dead. With his hand he silently traced a cross on his body. This was his reality, one that kept him moving at the expense of everything else. She needn’t know how many wars he had survived, nor how much of history he had lived through; he was a broken man at his core, not even his oath to his former nation nor his new connection with herself could heal the damage done.

He was a lone survivor in his own reality. How many has he lost? Lecca couldn’t help but question. It almost felt as if the man would soon be the only one standing in a single last fight. Lecca only hope that he would hear her voice.

Sua Sponte. Of one’s own accord. It was his unit’s motto. And now it was being used in the anticipation to restore peace.

Here, in this isolated place far from any nation’s reaches, Mike found himself deathly silent. His mind remained elsewhere. His finger firmly placed above the trigger of his rifle.

Amongst those present, she was the only one that recognized that emotionless expression.

That was the catch, at this moment Lecca was the only one remotely capable of keeping him alive. It was her duty to serve the people of her nation, but that was nothing larger than a collateral duty in her mind. Her focus was keeping her chosen one to move forward; even if that meant letting him go as he served a greater purpose, then she would take that responsibility, and accept that reality. Numerous times she has been told of her talent, her skill, her special place in this world. Yet, her only recourse was to give her all to Randall.

She no longer cared for the outcome. Long as she remained by his side, that was enough.

“Corporal Kendrin to all stations, we are moving a high-value-target through the western forest of the Frontier. Callsign ‘Successor’ is moving to the capital of Yondel, Glacies.”

Mike paused at the head of the squadron. He looked back with wide eyes. A glimmer of life passed through the only gleaming brown iris he had left.

Rook stepped forward with his rifle slung around his shoulder. He tilted his head and nodded silently to the staff sergeant.

Lecca watched history be written as the two silent men share a handshake.

This would be the last mission for everyone.

She prayed that it was.

Publicly Available Information: INTERCEPTED COMMUNICATIONS:

Confirm that The Successor is moving to site Zeta-Whiskey?

Comms from Corporal Kendrin of the 12th Airborne Corps have confirmed that Princess Leccamaradel Arish is heading to the capital.

What of heat signatures in the forest?

All recon aircraft have been engaged in other fields. No reports now.

Reroute the 32nd LIC. See if we can’t give them some support.

That’ll take 30 hours, sir. They’ll long cross the border by then.

Trust me, they won’t be that fast.