“Rifle, rifle, rifle,” an almost robotic like voice barked over the radio. High above the blue skies and clouds, a silver-colored machine flew high in the sky and released a single explosive munition. “Contact—now.”

An enormous dust cloud shot into the sky. Sand, dirt, and smoke filled the surrounding area, and no less than a half-second later, the deafening report of the explosion ripped across the Saharan terrain. Sweltering heat pelted those fighting on the ground, and scattered vehicles raced across the desert plains. Under the light, a platoon element of twenty soldiers scattered in between bullet-ridden buildings avoiding gunfire from once allied units.

Like drums, gunfire peppered the streets as a fireteam of six men raised their tan weapons and proceeded to breach in through a decrepit apartment building. The first man in was a young, enlisted Ranger who sped ahead with no fear; he cut the corner with his rifle and spotted two French mercenaries firing a light machine gun from the second-floor window. As the first bullet echoed and alerted the men, the following storm of 40 led pellets from he and his teammates cut the gunmen short and split blood over the stained wooden floor. From a side room, three more exited wielding Kalashnikovs, but they too were funneled into the hall of death as the five Rangers engaged without mercy. Their only mission was to kill. And kill with great efficiency they did.

“Bravo—out of munitions, RTB for refit, over.”

Pursuing further targets under the sweltering heat, the Rangers proceeded up the apartment complex sweeping every open doorway they could. There was little time to check every room on each deck, there were on a time limit to make their exit, and that time was slowly being drained by a hailstorm of bullets. Each man braced themselves as the building came under sporadic indirect fire, but their boots continued forward.

Just outside there was a dozen targets, all with small arms and a single armored personnel carrier. Such a vehicle had a single .50 machine gun atop where a single, daring gunner laid down suppressive anti-material fire on the second squadron moving through the maze-like alleyways. It was a game of cat-and-mouse. Screams cut through the air as bodies on both sides littered the streets—soon to be added with the oncoming carnage.

The point man, just an early-bird Specialist found himself under the watch of the reaper as he cut down the third-deck hallway. His aged equipment was had long shown its capabilities in the grueling conditions of the desert, and now this would be the last time he had to make a quick exit before being rotated out of the continent his nation was fighting in. At the following door threshold, he was joined by his lieutenant and leading sergeant as they breached into an apartment room.

Three guns swept the room.

To an explosive’s concussive wave and the oncoming fire from afar, only two guns left.

Within three seconds of entering the room, the leading sergeant had the top of his head removed, and his body laid on the ground, his pink brain smashed to pieces.

Waving his hand, the lieutenant shouted to his men to move. In one coordinated effort, they maneuvered down the emergency exit towards the south and made the engagement a ground game with the elimination of the shooters in the upper levels. “Second Platoon, got two vics with Special Forces responding to your mayday.” The voice on the radio went unacknowledged as they raced across the streets taking cover behind brick buildings and burnt vehicles wherever they could.

“Bravo Platoon, Falcon 1-1 is prepping for launch, back on station in ten minutes.”

Everyone knew that reinforcements wouldn’t arrive on time.

“Take out that gunner!”

She was sitting alone. The oddly timed snowfall of spring had touched these lands, and she let out a warm breath, it visible for all in this town to see. “You’ve been on watch for three hours. Why don’t you come with me, Lecca?”

After a pause for thought, to debate whether she should listen to her lover’s request, the silver-haired princess slowly nodded her head accepting the offer to get out of the freezing cold streets.

Disappearing under sunlight, the two walked hand-in-hand in the side-streets of this border town. Only Lecca knew the name, Viridis. The mission that then Knight Chieftain Jensen Tellus had sent her on changed the fate of the kingdom. And once more she prowled the streets. Such a mission happened in her years as a junior officer in the army, and now she had returned in a more formal, official position to reclaim her right to the throne. It was ironic in this twist of fate, but she welcomed it.

There were some prying eyes towards the two, yet they would see nothing. Procuring two brown cloaks from the long-gone traveler that the paratroopers had taken hostage, they wore them becoming both obvious and unassuming to the average civilian. It was perfect. “We still have another two to five days of travel to Glacies. I didn’t realize that we would be going on about this without rest.”

Lecca shook her head, looking at Mike with a gleeful expression. “None of us expected this to happen. So much has happened since we left the kingdom. I’m just glad that we’re still alive, we’re fortunate for such a reality.”

Their day had started off with minor conflict. Earlier in the morning they almost ran into a checkpoint established by the army, so in response they had ditched the carriage and moved on foot to the border of the city. From there, they split into two groups; the paratroopers moved on the outskirts of the city to gather resources and possible transport, and Lecca and Mike moved through the innards to gather information and to be far away from danger if the gunmen found trouble with the local garrison or the army reinforcements present throughout the city.

“It’s been so long since we had a walk together. I bet the others are jealous, aren’t they?” Lecca asked, smiling. Breaking through the scattered grey clouds above, a miniscule amount of sunlight kissed the city below. A group of children sprinted past the two as they walked down the slowly warming street.

With his free and, Mike brushed his hair back and blocked the oncoming wind with his arm. He glanced over at the princess walking beside him; she looked perfectly fine in the frigid temperatures. Before he answered, he spotted the southwestern gate no less than a quarter mile away. “I’d imagine that they would enjoy some leave or liberty, but I can’t say that this is exactly that.”

“I’d imagine that they’re all looking forward to going home,” Lecca agreed, nodding as she let go of Mike’s hand and trotted ahead letting the distance hide the pout that had grown on her face. “To think we’ve gone so far without finding a solution for to return you all…”

“We agreed to helping you. We’re still committed to that.” Mike countered managing to catch up to the princess. He regained hold of her hand and drew her closer to his body not willing to let go of her a second time.

“Hold on—” Grabbing the staff sergeant by the hood, the princess stopped the man and pressed her lips against his left cheek. The sudden movement caught the Ranger off guard, but he quickly recovered feeling embarrassed as an elderly couple strolled by with unassuming smiles plastered on their faces. The princess’s bold action was mentally noted.

“Bold, are we?” He chuckled.

“Silence, Holy Knight.”

“I thought it was Reclaimer—”

“It is.”

Mike followed her as the princess stepped away to a lone bench alongside the road; he sat down on the edge an took the moment to survey the frozen city. Lecca was at the center of the bench, a lone hand rested on her abdomen, and she gently raised her head as snowflakes began to fall from the darken skies. “Our rendezvous point is just ahead. I can walk ahead and check it out while you stay near that shop just down the street.” He said raising to his feet.

Lecca looked up to Mike. She shook her head while outstretching her hand and holding onto his sleeve, “We need to stay together…” She began.

Mike swore he had heard such a phrase a lot these past five days, but in this case, it was something that made a small smile form on his face. “Naturally. We need to move anyways, before someone asks why the hell we’re out here,” he said allowing frustration to leak into his voice.

It was right after they had departed from Zivaland that Mike noticed that there was something bothering Leccamaradel. He didn’t question it seeing as he was the one to provide the Commandant Committee of President Harding’s survival, and he was the same man to declare that the princess would see her return to the throne of Yondel. However, now wasn’t the time to be distracted by such confusing thoughts. His declaration wasn’t of his own will, orders had come down from the highest of chains within the OMFS. The adjourned meeting between the Commandant Committee did draw up the orders to instate Lecca as the monarch.

The Federation was attempting to install a ‘puppet’ government.

Perhaps the thought had passed through both of their minds, as well as the paratroopers acting as their escorts. Being in contact with any intelligence source, even outside the OMFS, was a pipe dream, and Mike was slowly growing more frustrated with the passage of time. The order for Mike came from the now deceased CNO, and it had happened at a time where a coup would possibly facture the kingdom. This wasn’t anything like playing with nuclear weapon systems, but the very identity of an entire nation was at risk of disappearing due to the political, economic, and fatal fallout from this border-skirmish turned war.

Mike had spoke with at least a dozen of senior officials within the Federation government to reach this point. His blood pressure was slowly rising, and he could easily compare it to how agitated he was when dealing with those people. This is a shitshow… He thought to himself as he and the princess slinked throughout the occupied city. The path they took had ironically placed them near a patrol of soldiers from the 55th Defensive Garrison, their leading Knights eyed the two cautiously but made no move to intercept. He couldn’t blame them, they most likely received orders to mobilize and create defensive postures all throughout the city. Their kingdom was at war, and they didn’t even know the parties that were involved with such a grand conflict. The thought made Mike chuckle; it was all too like Peshawar.

Feeling the princess’s hand tighten around his own, Mike looked over his shoulder. “These people—will they suffer the same as those in the Federation did?”

The question went unanswered.

Viridis: Under the OMFS, a branch office known as the National Defense Office had been investigating this city for the last two years. Any information he was privy to was only related to immediate tasking of cells to confirm the status of the city’s defense. This wasn’t of primary concern to the OMFS, but the President had borrowed resources and personnel for his own investigation. Harding was a determined man, and whatever he had planned for this locale was going to involve blood.

Agent Phillips was the one that bothered to give some explanation to what operations existed in Yondel. For what was supposed to be a backwater town, there was an abnormal amount of activity on both sides, and Mike could only speculate why the Federation had deployed the first wave of soldiers directly towards this place.

It had almost been three hours since they had entered the city. Disconnected from the paratroopers, running across one of the riflemen was something both Lecca and Mike were happy to see.

Intersecting both Rook and Jamie on the wide streets, they silently walked behind a large carriage transporting food supplies and other goods. The two paratroopers looked no different than Mike and Lecca; large brown cloaks covered their bodies concealing their foreign clothes and advance weaponry. Even with the edge they had in an immediate firefight, it was suicidal to garner any attention than they were already receiving. Thankfully the kingdom suspected threats outside their borders, not inside.

“Good morning, princess.” Even though they were concealed under unknown identities, Rook still showed the respect Leccamaradel deserved.

“Good morning, Specialist.” She nodded providing a small smile, “What is the report from Corporal Kendrin?”

“We have secured a way-out ma’am. However, we need to run interference.” Rook snarled as he stared at the nearby sentries.

“Of fucking course. The kingdom launched a counter-insurgency operation in this city years ago.” Mike coughed as he avoided Lecca’s downcast look. He was unsure of himself. “Loyalist against the government. The shit show happened over some old relic left by the Architects.”

“Architects?” Rook seemed surprised to hear the name casually thrown by the staff sergeant.

“The president was looking into this for some time. This is something that goes beyond us,” Mike said evenly. “Harding wants whatever is related to them.”

Rook hummed. When President Harding wanted something, everyone wanted that item. The damn bastard had created his own shadow to do his bidding, and at this point he was openly using everyone to further his agenda.

“Talk about a pain in the ass. We were on cleanup duty before.” Jamie paused. He looked at Rook from the corner of his eye. He rubbed his eyes before continuing, “There was some kind of contamination to the northern part of the Federation, some sort of spill at one of the naval test sites. Thankfully there wasn’t much fallout with the locals, but I swear to God there was some sort of supernatural anomaly in that fucking place. Most of the guys that were guarding that place died weeks later.”

“Died—the hell.” There weren’t many things that Mike would correlate with sudden deaths. He racked his brain coming with a possible answer to what Jamie had poorly described, but there was a single though that fluttered through his mind. Based upon the technology that the Federation had—

“Dear—My God.” The words slipped from his lips making the group stop as the heavy cart pulled ahead.

“Mike?” Lecca whispered. She tightened her grip as she stared at his hollow face with wide eyes.

Were the bodies intact? That was the burning question in the NCO’s mind.

Closing his eyes and pressing his free hand against the bridge of his nose, Mike flashed through the facts he knew. If the Federation was truly capable, then looking for the Architects and what they left behind was the only option that President Harding had left. If the Senate was truly looking to obliterate the Kingdom of Yondel, then mass destruction was the only option to handicap the people and the government. Harding was still looking for peace while fighting his own war against the government.

“Staff Sergeant—”

“We need to focus on securing the relics in this city. With so many soldiers here, it would be easy to assume that they were here to protect the city.” Mike found it hard to speak his mind, “They’re here to secure or destroy any relics remaining.”

“They should all be destroyed.” Lecca seemed conflicted.

He didn’t believe that statement. There was no way that everything was destroyed. Relics of such importance may have not been known by everyone in the world, but such old pieces of technology or knowledge was something easily identifiable as important.

“We can run it by the corporal, but we’re still need to get you to the capital. We can’t stay here forever, just search and destroy.” Rook Stated. “We’re surrounded. Once we locate and destroy whatever they’re looking for, it’ll be a scramble to get out of here with our lives. Don’t have enough ammunition or food to sustain a siege.”

“Saboteurs.” Mike had long known of the OSS and British spies that operated during the Second World War against the Nazi war machine. Specialized and trained men that went in small groups to destroy resources or collect critical intelligence.

Lecca bit her lip anxiously waiting for the riflemen to gather their thoughts. After a minute of the silent communication, the princess let out a sigh, “Follow me. I’ll lead you to the entrance.” She said leading the way back towards the center of the city. With some hesitation, the others followed her and moved in a defensive formation. This was a walk into the unknown and they had to be ready for anything.

“Princess Leccamaradel is on the move, moving to phase line Bravo.” Rook said into his radio.

“Moving to set up blocking positions. Proceed, out.” Corporal Kendrin responded.

Reaching over her head, the princess pulled the hood over her face hiding it from the world. The armed men refused to do the same, but they moved around her, protecting her as they walked the more-and-more populated streets. Mike kept his rifle close. It was flush against his body and with the wrong move of the body would imprint through the fabric. It didn’t help that he was walking around with a sharp crew cut, that was enough to separate him from the average man on the street. Along with his height and muscular build, it was hard to conceal anything under the large cloak.

From the east, a brisk wind hit the four. The snowdrift changed directions and was carried on to the west. Letting out a warm breath, Mike marched on as his cloak fluttered. The paratroopers behind him rubbed their hands together and shivered for warmth, but for the older staff sergeant, he was used to this world and everything that it had to offer. Sucking in the pure air, he held his breath as Lecca led them directly to a small tunnel entrance beside a large yet destroyed warehouse. The princess was hesitant at the metal gate guarding the entrance. The steel that had once protected the secrets within was rusted, chipped, and showed signs of major wearing. Years had passed since anyone set place in the ruins below, and now they were going to descend into darkness in the vein hope that Yondel could not gain their hands on a weapon of mass destruction.

We’re getting sidetracked… Mike told himself.

“This is it?” Jamie hummed seeming unamused in the backstreets of Viridis.

“Yes. I do not know what is inside, but my men stormed this place many years ago.”

“Guess Yondel has its own civil disputes, at least enough to cause civil strife.”

Looking over his shoulder, Mike watched as the few scattered civilians on the main street passed by at a snail’s pace. From the beginning the Reclaimers knew of the internal conflict between the king and the Royal Court, but it was just as easy to imagine the people revolting against the monarchy.

“Get ready to breach. Lights and masks on.” Rook ordered pulling out an old-styled gas mask from the pouch on his waist.

“Why the PPE?” Mike asked as he watched the man remove the garments covering his face.

Rook’s voice grew clear as he removed the scarf he always wore.

“This could be related to the Architects. We don’t know what type of materials will be down there.”

“I, neither Lecca has such gear.” Mike stated bluntly.

“Let’s hope you don’t choke to death then.”

Not confident or amused by what the paratrooper said, Lecca shook her head as she reached her arm out. A calming light emerged from her fingertips as matter materialized in her palm and began to outstretch into the world. The purple hue had enamored the two onlookers that were unfamiliar with such a sight. Mike watched as a white gun all too like the one he was now holding, manifested in her hands. Though it was near-identical, the rifle was cut short, and its purpose served that of an atypical scout rifle used during the first world war.

“Corporal, breaching ruins at Phase Line Bravo, will lose contact.” Rook said as he watched Jamie and Mike grab the rusted gate with gloved hands.

“Proceed with investigation, but you have five hours before we pull out.”

“We’ll be out before then.”

With a harsh tug, the rusted door came loose and opened with a shallow groan. Jamie wasted no time as he let go of the door and let his hands guide his automatic rifle towards the darkened void ahead. Freeing one of his hands, the paratrooper brought out his helmet from under his cloak and secured it on his head. He reached for the top left side and let a bolt of electricity flow out from his hand activating a crystal held in a cylindrical pipe.

Mike snorted as he thought of a helmet mounted flashlight.

“Steps going down.” Jamie said motioning for Mike to moved adjacent to him. “Roger up, Staff Sergeant.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mike fell back onto his Ranger training as he descended the stairs refusing to lower his bolt-action rifle. As he peered down the metal sights, the man followed the single light provided by the man across from him; the underground was stuffy. Water had eroded the mossy stones all around, and the moist air was uncomfortable to breathe. Rook remained with Leccamaradel as they slowly descended the stairs, they entered the pitch-black tunnel with their arms ready to be aimed. “Here we go.” He murmured letting his low voice reverberate around the lifeless environment.

Leading the way with their only light, Jamie took deep breaths as he traversed the maze-like tunnels. “I hate this shit.” Mike could understand the paratrooper’s frustration. He himself was a part of an airborne unit, and he felt his place was in the open sky or running in open fields.

Rook watched the growing pitch-black darkness behind the group. Princess Leccamaradel was just ahead of him, and he was determined to not let anything sneak up on their exposed flank. This wasn’t his first time engaging in this close of urban warfare, however, all the other times he had more than a platoon with him, not four riflemen.

“Got a split in the path!” Jamie called out.

Not turning around, Rook closed his ranks with the rest of his fireteam. Lowering his rifle, he spared only a glance before turning back to the darkness. Jamie had shined his light upon two pathways that were split at 180 degrees. The entire mission underground was to locate ruins and perhaps relics left behind by the Architects, something he didn’t truly believe existed. With the princess here, he began to show faith that they would survive, yet he was doubting that lurking in the underground would provide any results. This could have easily been a part of the sewerage system within the city.

“What’s the call, Lecca?” Mike questioned lowering his rifle and looking back at the silver-haired maiden.

Lost in thought, Lecca raised her left hand and dispersed a miniscule mana field. Even with the little mana she released, the purple hue was half as strong as the beaming light coming from Jamie’s helmet. Raising an eyebrow, the princess casted a thread of mana down both paths. “The left path. There seems to be a conduit here.” She exclaimed, “I don’t know how close we are, but it’s close enough for something to react to magic!”

“Let’s get a move on.” Jamie huffed sparing a glance at his wristwatch.

“Just keep it tight. We don’t need to get killed under here.”

Mike’s comment went unanswered as the paratrooper moved ahead. The deeper they marched, the harder it was to breathe. Lecca could only look ahead into the darkness—

And wonder what awaited them, like all those years ago…

Publicly Available Information: Voices of the Chord:

Though in recorded history mages have been able to contact an unknown realm to communicate with God-like beings, even those that are magically inept have had instances of guidance from higher beings well beyond their comprehension.