Faceless and grey, who are they?

Well it matters not, we have our institutions.

In foul times like this, those not graced by the colours of the Euralian Kingdom is to be deemed hostile. With our patrol route being so close to the front lines, I am most convinced these grey beings were sent by the wretched invaders, the Yhunian Federation.

They are moving like they were trying to hide their forms, such odd behavior is most telling. My beloved patrol group wear expressions of worry and uneasiness, even as they hid behind a thicket.

I flash a noble smile to still the hearts of everyone, giving the order to cloak using our energy with but a sharp whisper.

Bestowed under the veil utmost secrecy, everyone hastily close in on the strange grey beings. There are eight of them, and each and everyone of them were grasping weapons fashioned in the distant likeness of a crossbow.

I clutch my beloved scepter tighter with both hands, channeling my inner energy reserves into it as the cloaking spell begins to fade away. The shouts began as did the fiery of unbridled combat. 

I couldn't remember much after I gave the order to attack, but one thing was clear....

We lost, badly.

It took the deaths of two of my comrades before I realize we are not fighting against Yhunian warriors or mages. From the thunder like cracks of their weapons to the way they fight, everything about them just screamed foreign and unknown!

"Everyone, stop attacking! We are not fighting Yhunian Forces!!" I scream over the sounds of the battle.

One of my surviving warriors bellow, "Inora, surely you jest! We are locked in battle with them, it matters not their allegiance."

While throwing my staff aside, I give him a harsh glare, "They are not Yhunian Soldiers, trust my judgement and halt your spells, they might see reason and let us live." I plead firmly, forcing down the lumps of fear.

After what seemed like an eternity, he gives a defeated sigh and drops his staff, it falls lifelessly onto the ground losing its vibrant blue glow.

A brutish kick from behind forces me onto the ground, the sickening crunch nearby makes me jerk my head towards the source of it.

A wave of cold fear washes over me as I see the state of my fellow scout, blood is leaking out of his nose at a concerning rate as he fell with a painful groan. As he hit the ground with a thud, I couldn't help but release quiet sniffles in utter helplessness.

I hear multiple footsteps behind me, each one sounding loud and ominous due to the sudden silence of the forest.

Four of those grey demons are directly behind us, that knowledge alone is enough to make my whole body quiver with fear. Had I been standing, my legs would have definitely given up on me.

My body went rigid as I notice yet another group of those things emerging from the shadows of nature. Like a predator to its prey, they prowl with unquestionable menace in their strides.

The lead member gives of a sinister aura, its featureless face seemingly staring right into my soul.

Like the rest of its kind, its head was as grey as the darkest of storms. Cold chills run up my spine upon realizing I am the recipient of its undivided attention. I feel its intense gaze through my armor even though it did not seem to have any eyes.

My instincts urge me to run, I had to bite down on my tongue to silence the unspoken fear that threatened to take root.

But nonetheless I remain defiant and surprisingly muster enough courage to stare back at the black plating that was its empty face.

What are these things if they were not Yhunian soldiers? Though their visage is one of menace, their actions seemed to tell otherwise.

===15 minutes prior===

"This is Angel One, WILCO over," Narkis acknowledges.

Everyone heard it straight from the channel, we are being pulled out. The higher ups seem to think we are under equipped for the now confirmed to be hostile inhabitants, and I wholeheartedly agree. Aside from our advanced combat suit, we only had our assault rifles and four magazines. Are we suitable for extended combat? Most definitely not.

"Lets get to it everyone, to the Exfil point." I hastily order, prompting everyone out of the defensive circle and into the file formation.

My fingers as nervous as they are, were holding onto the weapon with a firm grip. Watchful eyes overlook the shoulders of my men, peering into the wilderness, for any signs of them. The ones in the video.

Step by careful step, every soldier carefully held the formation as we slowly advance towards the extraction site.

Target location is six Klicks south east, on top of a ridge if the map is not wrong. With the method of extraction being air, a JU-29 Humming Bird will no doubt be brought in to retrieve us.

Never could I have expected this would be the sort of mission I would partake in, truly this is an experience I will never get in the civilian world.

The subject of family pops up in my mind, how are they? What are they doing, while I am here, leading soldiers in another plane of existence.

Before my thoughts went off the grid, I will it back to more pressing matters that require my full attention, such as scanning my sector of view. With more focus, my aim grew ever more steady, despite the uneven ground beneath the foliage wanting to throw my balance into chaos.

In a few more hours the sky would lose its vibrant blue colour once the sun touches the horizon, it isn't directly visible but the current angle of light penetrating through canopy of green is all I need to estimate the time of day.

"..???.."

An almost inaudible sound comes from the far left, making my head jerk towards the direction where it came from. With how quiet the forest was, all it takes to notice the muffled sound is tight concentration, something me and my fellow operatives have in spades.

The movements made by everyone are synchronized, rifles are brought and aimed with speeds acquired by years of practice and usage.

I could not make out what was behind the sounds, only that it came from a suspicious set of bushes that seems to move on its own accord. I spare a swift glance to Douglas from my side, his finger is on the trigger, ready to act accordingly.

He then remarks in a careful tone, "Possible movement ahead, unknown....."

We are the only UN assets in the area.....

My vision returns back to the front, centered on the scope of the weapon I comfortably held in both hands. Down the sights, I note the extremely faint shimmering of the air, outlined in yellow by my visual tracking system.

The air has a strange texture to it, easily distorting the look of the bushes behind. Without much thought, I instinctively tighten the grip on my rifle as the shimmering becomes more pronounced, revealing the familiar shades of white and red.

I continue to cast suspicious eyes on those distortions, watching them morph into a more defined shape.....undeniably humanoid in nature.

The air is tense and palpable, with zero regard for subtlety the flickering air vanishes, in its wake stood the armored forms of the indigenous locals.

These are similar to the ones in the video, this is not good news.

Military training immediately kicks in, prompting everyone to train their assault rifles, knowing the tension could explode at any moment. On the other side of the fence, they had their strange intricately crafted staffs pointed at us.

I don't know what the hell those are, but I know a weapon when I see one.

Both sides stared down on each other like a classic showdown, waiting for the other to make the first move. A single thought replays itself in my mind like a broken loop, as the moment drags on.

First contact..

While the alarming notion continues to occupy a portion of my attention, blue lights begin radiating from the crystalline tips of those rods, growing ever more brighter until it reaches a point where it is bright enough to cast its own shadow amongst the vegetation.

My legs are crouched, ready to take evasive action if the situation calls for it. The rest of the soldiers instinctively spread out taking various actions such as moving behind better cover. Whatever the action everyone took, we always had our aim trained on these natives.

There were five of them, and eight of us. The numbers are against them, but without knowing what they are capable of, our numerical superiority did little to ease my worries, and my finger on the trigger.

Those rods of theirs were producing that blue light, just like in the video we just saw. The temptation to issue the open fire command plagues my mind, driven by the worsening tension. But that would make us the aggressors.

The predicament seemed more volatile by the second. At forty five meters away, they stop their advance towards us. Instead deciding to wield those majestic staffs now with both hands, as if channeling the blue lights at the crystalline tips to be brighter. Which it did.

My eyes flair up in confusion as something akin to a projectile flies out from one of the rods, looking like a blue wispy fire ball. Tracking its movement, my eyes trail its path as it streaks towards our defensive line with alarming speed.

Narkis is directly in its path, fortunately he had the reflexes to dodge it, jerking his head back behind a tree trunk he was using as cover. It almost grazes him on the helmet.

Still trailing that projectile, my eyes follow its path till it impacts an unfortunate tree, setting it ablaze and destroying a huge portion of its trunk. With nothing left to support its smoldering weight, the small tree collapses.

I blink, barking out an exclamatory curse in response. Quick thinking made me go prone in the hopes the thick undergrowth will break up my form against the enemy.

"More incoming!"

The rest instinctively duck behind cover as dozens more of those fiery projectiles came streaking towards our position, rocking us and our cover with violent explosions vaguely reminiscent of fragmentation grenades.

These aren't accurate shots by any means, but the suppression keeps me and the rest of my men pinned as the constant deadly barrage of blue explosives sends twigs and branches alike flying through the air.

Several of the blue projectiles fly past my position, slightly burning the tall grass that was around me.

"Any casualties?!" I sound out, holding my weapon harder against my chest as adrenaline begins to surge into my blood.

From my right James responds with a urgent undertone, "Negative!"

Under the bombardment, Fireteam angel returns fire, their bullets finding their mark along the enemy's position in semi-accurate volumes, dishing out the retaliation in an attempt to counter the suppression and draw their fire.

The grazing fire maneuver succeeds, as they are now forced to switch from tree to tree as each consecutive one gets peppered by the ferocious attack, coating the ground with more burnt vegetation. This eases the amount of fire coming into the defensive section my team occupied.

With renewed vigor, I hand signal my team to begin flanking the enemy position while they remain occupied with the Lieutenant and his men. Under the tormenting sounds of the firefight, my fireteam weaves through the tall blades of grass and trees, eventually reaching an ideal position to start returning accurate fire.

Robert is the first to squeeze the trigger in controlled bursts. I take refuge behind a large tree hoping it is sturdy enough to block any retaliation sent my way.

Immediately after crouching, my mind registers the sound of more gunshots. Not wanting to be left behind, I brace the rifle against my shoulder with both hands and press hard on the trigger, allowing bullets to come rushing out the muzzle with deadly force, all of which came streaking towards our aggressors in quick bursts of accurate fire.

As the staccato of gunfire and explosions resonate throughout the forest, the first of our bullets begin hitting the enemy, harmlessly bouncing of a slightly translucent white barrier which seemed to have materialized in response to our shots. The oddity protects all five of the enemy from the lethal effects of our accurate fire, though only for a moment.

The strange white barrier quickly crumples and vanishes as soon as it appeared under the sheer kinetic power of our 7.62x51 mm NATO rounds, exposing our enemies to my team's lethal array of bullets.

In mere moments since the white barrier fell, concentrated fire claims its first victim. Their armor, apparently is ineffective against small arms fire. Entry wounds appear across the chest and other various parts of the body, if that person somehow manages to survive the series of injuries, he would bleed out to death regardless.

Four of the enemies remain, I motion my hand forward, encouraging my team to increase their rate of fire. The positions of both fireteams means we have got the remaining four survivors in a cross fire, giving us the tactical advantage.

"Keep firing!!"

The fight drags on by the precious seconds, my heart increasing its rhythm as I surrender my senses to the engagement. My aim quickly snaps onto the distinctive helmet of an enemy.

With the shot lined up and a squeeze of the trigger, my target falls lifelessly onto the ground like a rag doll, the staff he carried slips out of his hands, its sinister blue glow now rapidly fading away.

"Reload, cover!"

Hearing the phrase, I immediately increase my rate of fire. "Covering!"

Working around one another's timings meant we had a constant barrage against our aggressors, giving them no room to recover from our assault.

"Cease fire, cease fire!" The volume of blue fire coming towards us abruptly stops, in return we did the same, allowing an eerie silence to seep through the tension.

Taking a risk I stand up and rest my shoulder against the sturdy trunk I used as cover, tentatively exposing my head out from its side to assess what happened.

Amidst the burning chaos of greenery stood three of the armored locals, still alive and well, they are unarmed with the exception of one of them.

Even from this distance their armor glimmers when struck by the sun's golden rays. As impressive as the sight is, the tension is still thick with uneasiness.

The puzzling sounds of their unknown language is clearly audible, enhanced by my helmet's audio sensors.

"Fireteam Angel, this is Desert One," I radioed, carefully plotting our next move in that brief moment.

"Three surviving hostiles have ceased aggression, circle around to their rear, we'll keep our guns trained on them over," I inform him.

"This is Angel One, Wilco over." Immediately I can see them moving to circle around, appearing little more than distorted shapes of grey amongst the distant greenery.

Immediately after the incoming transmission ends, I retrain my focus back onto the hostiles, now looking very vulnerable.

I use the moment to eject my nearly depleted magazine in favor of a fresh one from the ammunition pouch, quickly popping that into my rifle.

Meanwhile my eyes never let up on its intense scrutiny, if they even move their arms even by even a noticeable amount, I will immediately reconsider them as threats and deal with them within reason. Given their prior actions, they no choice but to cooperate if they know what's good for them.

Upon closer inspection I spot out several notable things, the most prominent being their armor. My expectations were something along the lines of simple, at the approximate standards of the Renaissance Era, but resting my eyes on its finer details made it apparent to me their technological sophistication is much higher than previously anticipated.

The cautious operatives of Fireteam Angel made their way behind the aggressors, the natives are clearly aware of their presence, having picked up on the sound of footsteps and shuffling leaves directly behind them.

The first two of the natives are rudely shoved onto the ground. Pity wells up in me as I walk towards for three, especially towards the only female of the group.

The third guy is bold enough to turn his head back, with a fearful yet inquisitive gaze.

He receives a brutal rifle butt to the nose, the only portion not covered by the metal helmet. The bone cracking thud as the weapon's stock connects to his face is enough to make me wince.

That will be a broken nose at the very least.

A small whimper escapes from the female. She looks reduced to a quivering mass of flesh, the others didn't fare any better than she did. With how the firefight went, this isn't a surprise by any means.

Closing in on them I get out of cover, cautiously maintaining a high guard against the group that assaulted us.

In the back of my mind, I realize this is the first real close up encounter anyone had with the locals. It was a profound experience to see them act so human, so familiar.

The appearance of the female caught me off guard. My eyes, momentarily widen in surprise.

Extremely pale white skin on a face containing traces of youthfulness, with a small nose that can be called striking and lips slightly quivering with nervousness in response to my attention.

Traces of white but pristine hair can be found in the gap between her helmet and chest plate. This particular shade of white is extremely... for a lack of a better term, pure.

If I were anyone else, I would have been absolutely smitten by her looks, she definitely had an exotic flair to her features.

Fortunately, in light of the situation I was more than capable of regarding her looks as little more than a distraction. As it stands, there are more pressing matters to be concerned about such as investigating the string of events that led to this moment.

'Why are they hostile?' A question with little hope for answers, at least for now echoes along the silence I find myself in.

As an internal dialogue rages inside of me, my eyes are drawn to the most glaring feature of her face, her strange eyes, more specifically her irises.

Instead of the circle like a regular person's it was slitted vertically, immediately reminding me of a cat's eyes, or a lizard's. Basically anything but the human's eye.

This is where the differences begin. The same features are found on the other two captives.

There are slight morphological differences when compared to the average human in terms of looks.

I continue locking eyes with her, and despite my black visor between our eyes, I feel a connection with this unknown female. I could see she was trying to convey her plight to me through her admittedly beautiful violet swirls.

"Jerome we've got movement due west, two hundred meters." Douglas points out, shifting his rifle from the captives to whatever it is that drew his attention.

Taking his advice seriously, I avert my gaze from her and zero in on the direction he had his head pointed at. Ominous blue lights can be seen, closing in on our position. Adding an apprehensive layer of uncertainty to our situation.

"There could be more of them, possibly alerted by the engagement," I remark.

I look back to the three defenseless captives. We have to make it to the extraction point, so we can't have them knowing which direction we took.

That leaves only one option concerning these three captives...

"Remove their helmets and knock'em out," I hastily order, while keeping my eyes fixated on those distant movements which are clearly made by another group of these indigenous locals.

"And make it quick!" I shortly add on, giving them a sense of urgency.

Narkis gives a curt nod and with assistance from the rest of his team, manages to knock them out cold. Unarmored heads fall unceremoniously onto the dirt in quick succession.

Now confident we had no more eyes on us, everyone quickly broke into a controlled sprint away from the ominous blue lights. My eyes keep themselves trained on their fallen forms, specifically drawn to her white silvery hair until they pass out of my sight.

======

The world was dark, the back of my head throbs with a dull ache. The grass tickles my face as I lie on my side. Those grey warriors vanished, incurring no losses on their end while I face the loss of two of my own.

They're gone, forever... Gareth, and Renai.

Anything, really anything would be better than this.

Consciousness quickly returns to me, opening my eyes I see the fallen forms of my fellow warriors still rendered knocked out. Guilt washes over me, making me wish I could have prevented what had happened.

The aftermath of the battle is quiet, leaving me to nurse the dull wound on my head with a sorrowful heart. Leaves violently rustle nearby, inciting my dread to return as a vengeful wave up my back.

I make no effort to defend myself, allowing fate to render me its judgement. Anticipating the same faceless warriors to barge into view, I face the ground, not willing to confront them again.

An armored hand appears, as does the sound of a voice. I look up, to see an ally. The fellow Euralian kneels down to my level, waiting for me to respond.

Weakly I reach out to grasp the warrior's hand, keeping my grip firm as he pulls me up to stand on my own two feet.

"What happened? We came as soon as we heard the sounds of combat." The warrior regards me with a harsh glare through his helmet, questioning me with a voice tempered for battle.

"W-We fought a group of... things," I begin, desperately trying to calm my quivering form.

His grip on my forearm tightens, I pay no heed to it. "Were they of the Yhunian military? Are they scouts or warriors, did you see where they went? Anything to help identify the foe."

"No.....no they were not our enemies," I mutter, shaking my head in denial.

The painful groan emitted by the two surviving warriors of my scouting group brings me out of the shock. A brief glance at them shows they are being helped up.

"What do you mean? The front lines is a day's march from here, it wouldn't be impossible for enemy scouts or maybe an elite group of Yhunian Rangers to be this deep behind our lines."

Immediately I voice my objections. "No! The Yhunian Military favors blue and yellow colours in almost all of its forces, the th...things me and my group fought.."

With an uncertain tone I continue, "..they were grey and black, they don't seem to fight like our enemies. They still fought well, enough to defeat us."

'And spared the survivors.' I silently add, keeping the thought known only to myself. Whether it was an act of mercy, goodwill or something else entirely, I will never be certain.

That train of thought prompts my eyes to rest on the blood stained corpses of my two former comrades, still smearing the ground with their red lifeless blood.

Solemnly I watch on as a life mender approaches the fallen, kneeling to examine their final wounds. With tender hands, she traces the small holes that are spread across both flesh and armor.

She wills her intent, evident through glowing hands and faint whispers. With these powers she heightens her senses, gently pressing her palms against the fatal wounds, ignoring the warm blood clinging to her fingertips.

"These wounds are strange," the healer's face twisted. "Deep, but fine punctures."

The respectable probing of the wounds yielded no answers to us, only that whatever was used to fatally wound them didn't make any use of any offensive spells.

There is simply not a trace of magic used....

She turns to me, asking in a soft-spoken voice, "You fought them, did you hear what tongue they spoke?"

Her question prompts me to search through my recent memories, of the dreadful encounter with those things.

I did hear them speak, just before they knocked us out. But the language isn't familiar to me, it wasn't the language of the Yhunian Federation we currently are at war with, neither does it sound like anything I've heard in our nation.

"Yes, I heard them speak, but their language isn't known to me, it sounded... foreign in every sense of the word." I just have that feeling they didn't belong to these lands.

Realizing the wounds won't yield any concrete answers to us, the life mender quickly stands back up, her eyes laced with sorrow.

The unpleasant reverie also brings an image to my attention. On the right arms on all of them, was a small emblem, that little detail being picked up by my nervous eyes when they had us on our knees.

It was blue and with the image of a spherical thing surrounded by leaves, on perhaps a branch?

If that thing I observed was their symbol, it definitely means they are not on the side of our enemies, or ours. I can only assume this much from the rather unfortunate encounter.

Still overcome with shock, my weak knees threaten to buckle under the constant strain of my weight. It was too late to change what has happened, but the guilt still tore at me relentlessly.

A reassuring voice halts my train of thought. "What is your name and unit?"

After a moment to compose myself, I answer briefly making contact with his eyes. "Inora of the 4th Scouting Regiment, 21st Royal Cohort."

"Alright rest easy Inora, you drawn breath still. My soldiers shall escort you and your surviving brethren back to the encampment. These lands are riddled with dangers, we suspect there is yet more hidden amidst the woodwork."

"Y...yes please.." I acknowledge weakly, still struck with grief over my losses.

In the morning, they were still alive...

======

No signs of any pursuers, our flanks are clear for now.

Thank goodness. I internally exclaimed.

There is no ambiance to the forest, only this deep foreboding silence. It made me paranoid, it is too quiet for it to be natural. Was it the calm before the storm?

I tune in to the squad channel, "Angel Team, any movement to our rear over?"

Casting a glance back, I peer through the vegetation to look at the partially obscured but reassuring forms of Fireteam Angel, just 30 meters behind my team.

One of them quickly reaches out with his left hand to the side of his helmet, activating the radio. Most likely in response to my request for a sit rep.

In tune with his actions, my radio comes to life.

"Angel Zero One affirmative, rear is clear of hostiles over," Narkis informs me, guarded tone showcasing his alertness.

With my head turned back to the front, I immediately double my pace to catch up with my team, pushing through the foliage and dodging the occasional tree.

Our pace closely bordered on sprinting, the restrictive nature of our terrain prevented us from going any faster even if we wanted to.

My legs are full of energy, fueled no doubt by adrenaline from that hostile encounter a while back.

Breath in...breath out...

Each exhaled breath comes rushing out my lips, the puffs of air constantly hitting the inner parts the helmet. Gently brushing the skin on my mouth and lower parts of the nose as it rebounded back towards my face.

In conjunction with my hard working legs, my body performed its locomotive duties without conscious input.

===Extraction Point, one hour later===

The beautiful sun is well on its way towards the horizon, barely noticeable hues of yellow began to saturate the sky signaling the impending arrival of evening.

The adrenaline from the hostile contact wore off from our systems long ago, the elevated position on the ridge gave us a nice view of our surroundings. Providing much needed serenity to calm our nerves.

My rifle was placed on the ground beside my feet, i opted to stand alone a fair distance from the rest, to have my much needed silence and solitude.

Awestruck eyes trailed the horizon's edge, loving the different shades of green coming from the trees, looking ever so peaceful in the distance. A flock of huge Dragon-like reptiles glided high above us, using their large outstretched wings to propel their massive forms.

"Simply beautiful..." I whispered to myself.

I live for these rare moments of respite. Nothing comes close to the bliss I feel right now.

"Jerome!" A voice calls out to me, making me curiously shift my vision towards everyone else.

I am well aware both teams were in a loose circle facing one another, engrossed in various subjects that I take little to no interest in, such as women and civilian trends in general.

"Whats up," Innocently I inquire, genuinely curious about the reason I am called.

Douglas went on with the question "What do you think of our current deployment?"

I gave it serious thought, it was a reasonable question. It is no doubt this deployment is something i'd never expect given the unique nature of it.

"Well..." I begin, taking time to formulate a concrete answer.

"No doubt we will be here for quite some time, as of now we're the only SOG assets available for Cygnus Station." I pause, thinking back to the things we encountered, from the strange yet passive dragons to the hostile local inhabitants.

I shrug, "Whatever the case, this will mark an amazing chapter for our career as soldiers." As soon as I end the statement, a gentle breeze washes over me, much to the delight of my ears.

The soft reassuring whispers left as soon as it came however, and soon I am left with nothing but awkward silence. It is constantly breathing down on my neck, I didn't like it one bit. So I decide to continue the idle chat I had with my fellow operatives.

I make my way closer to them. "You know.... I used to think I've seen everything the world has to offer, but the chain of events in the past few hours destroyed that belief."

Narkis immediately corrects me, "To be fair, this isn't our world, let alone our universe. That is what I think anyways..." He trails off, now seemingly lost in thought.

"Fair point there...."

With a content sigh, I return to the isolated corner that I marked as my own, and sat on the rocky ground. My sights are set on the horizon of green, taking in the simple beauty of the world with my eyes.

It could be better though, my visor is blocking the way.

With that thought in mind, I remove my helmet and place it right beside me. I spend the rest of the time basking in the silence, watching the gentle sways of the distant trees.

=====end====

The ripples of your actions will remain after death, make sure to leave a good impression.