My heart beats with a firm rhythm. Every shot resonates with a slim crack, breaking the sound barrier without fail. Concentration rises with each passing second, mind getting wired into a state of combat readiness.

I continue peering through the night vision goggles, monitoring the distant battlefield with furrowed brows. Much of the battle is indiscernible due to terrain, that fortunately wasn't the case for the shielding.

The ferromagnetic rounds tore through the pseudo-material at a compromising angle, chipping away small fragments initially. Several heated seconds pass and the splinters grow in size and number, spurred on by the continued shots of me and my men.

Ammunition expenditure is just under forty bullets across the entire board at this point. The next couple of shots were more than sufficient in administering the fatal blow.

"Defenses compromised, hold fire," I command, moving my index away from the trigger.

The shield fizzles out, exposing its owners to the bursts of incendiaries spells employed by these Black Hand soldiers. Bright flashes of light engulf the positions of the former, temporarily blinding my optics.

"Dammit," I stifle a groan, eyes caught off guard by the sudden display.

Blinking away the blind spot, I get up, scanning the darkness in wide arcs to compensate for the reduced vision angle of my NVG's.

"This is Desert Two, we've lost visual contact with Federation units!" Douglas signals out from his position.

"Sitrep," I immediately demand with a small hint of worry, given their closer positioning.

"We're alright, still holding position. They're gone from our scopes."

"Understood, keep tabs on any changes, they could be anywhere," I respond, noting the return of the forest ambiance.

"Copy your last, out...."

They aren't dead, that would be too simple. I will expect the worst.

With caution fueling my every move, I step away from the protective confines of the brush, motioning Robert to do the same with a simple gesture. With Myandra and her dragon situated further back, they shouldn't be a hindrance to the both of us as we advance.

All prior training related to jungle warfare comes rushing through my head, brief images of former friends, the struggles and harsh conditions, everything.

There is darkness all around, the threat of teleporting units is the greatest factor that made me constantly vigilant of even the smallest shift in the shadows. But even with the current situation, there is nothing but confidence stemming from the deepest parts of my soul.

The indiscernible features between the trees and branches were constantly under the mercy of my infrared laser sight, my finger just milliseconds away from issuing lethal rounds to anything that dared to rear its head out.

"What can you tell me about this enemy?" I ask, giving a brief check to the Seeker still huddled behind, "keep it short if possible."

"Yhunian Rangers, warrior scouts with great agility and magic. They dare not face the Kingdom's armies head on, desiring to attack only with surprise on their side. They seem to believe our flanks to be the front lines."

"Got it." So these soldiers make greater use of small scale tactics, exploiting their enhanced mobility against their more numerous, but often slower adversaries.

Forcing down that small surge of nervousness, I shift through the foliage, legs running against the undergrowth. The rustle is audible, even more so with my heightened senses.

"Get the pilots to double their alert, shoot to kill is authorized," I force out a grim tone, further emphasizing the statement with a heated glare at Robert. My comrade responds with a reassuring nod, relaying the directive to the pilots.

"Okay listen..." I turn back, adding urgency into my voice, "if what you say is true, you and your dragon can't be here, it's dangerous." There isn't much more to add given the unease pooling in my gut.

"I can handle a battle, I assure you I am no innocent fair maiden," Myandra crosses her arms, eyes regaining that definitive blue glow. I could practically picture her frown with that tone she used, notwithstanding the helmet.

I have no time for this.....

"You've done your job, now get out of here. I'll say this again, it's too goddamn dangerous," I point outwards with my free hand,"your Black Hand allies are in that direction, this isn't my war but I know how unpredictable it can be."

"I could leave, but I will choose not to," she shrugs, much to my irritation. As if to back up her words, Myandra's Broadwing nudges against her shoulder, eyes daring me to say otherwise.

Irritation flares up in my system. "You've got to be kidding..." No use dealing with her, I know from limited experiences not to press the argument with a woman, especially so if said woman has the backing of a creature that size.

I purposely leave out my annoyance, eyes suddenly drawn to a flurry of phantom squares on my drone feed. For the brief second they were on, the squares were shown to number in at least a dozen. My heart drops at the now empty space the shapes once occupied, noting its proximity to this position. Less than two hundred meters.

"Jerome, possible movements on our flanks!"

"Reposition now." I speak out, keeping my voice under control. My left hand fumbles with the settings on the optics, as the other brings my weapon to bear against the incoming threat. I am really starting to despise their tendency to teleport, assuming that was what they did.

Sprinting towards the nearest tree, I drop to my stomach to reduce my targeting silhouette as much as possible. My peripheral registers Robert's form just a few meters away, taking position in a similar manner.

A layer of heated tension pervades the air as we both hold position, our respective infrared lasers piercing the darkness, searching for that inevitable moment of visual contact.

Given our prior experience with this unwanted adversary, it did not come as a massive surprise to know they can track us down without fail. Haunting shadows weave in between the dark expanse of the trees, forcing air to hitch in my throat.

There is no mistaking their intentions. Even in the near absence of light, my senses could not deny the hostility creeping in from the distance.

"X-rays at two O'clock!" Menacing volleys of blue flame huddle towards our position, scorching through leaves and the occasional offending branch in the process.

Military instincts immediately prompts my finger into action, pulling the trigger as soon as my infrared laser zeroes in on a confirmed enemy. The weapon kicks back against my right shoulder, recoil being much more than that of a conventional rifle.

"Fifteen contacts, staggered formation ninety meters away," I read out, keeping my head away from the confusion, ignoring the projectiles above blindly flying past me.

"This'll put a strain on our ammo," Robert comments, the edges of his voice coated in fortitude, descending into mild panic several moments later, "dammit new incoming, left side! Our position's been compromised!"

The addition of another group forces me to consider a tactical retreat, with just the two of us, there was hardly a chance we could maintain this position, even with our skill set and firepower.

"They'll box us in, peeling maneuver now!!" This has to be a coordinated counter attack by them.

"Roger! Go, I'll cover!" Robert continues to lay down suppressing fire as I get up, driving my legs to do their fullest. With my back towards the engagement, I mutter a quick prayer, hoping to get through this entire ordeal unscathed.

The air in front lights up with a shimmering glow, a glossy wall of blue stretching left to right perpendicular to my position. In the midst of the situation, I forgot about her completely.

"Get behind, you will be protected," Myandra orders, my body instinctively obeying her words.

Not willing to give out a verbal response, I only send out a curt nod, rushing through her protective barrier, enemy fire dissipating harmlessly against it.

Craning my neck to the side, I trace the blue tendrils in line with my vision, eyes coming into contact with her arms. Her actions must be maintaining that shield. Adding to my image of her are indiscernible mummers, words barely holding any volume.

"I won't stand idle as the invaders stalk our lands," she retorts with finality, carrying an air of determination, "your attacks may pass through from this side." Her words went over my head, as the latter portion already is known to me through prior observation.

I give Myandra nothing in regards to recognition, instead aiming my weapon forward, signaling out to my comrade, "Ready, go!" A constant stream of bullets leave my weapon, keeping the surppression going as Robert falls back, cradling his weapon close to the chest.

"Retreat if you must, the Black Hand are on their way to continue their fight."

"Don't need anyone telling me that," I lash out, partly due to our guide, now turned guardian stating the obvious.

Her shield now comes under heavy attack from the surprise pincer assault, putting a massive dent in her focus. Mental strain begins to grip Myandra tighter, her voice leaving no doubts about that.

"I-I....used much of my power to seek out your brethren," she stutters, losing the vibrant glow around her, "my shield might fall soon." No longer did her voice carry anything resembling confidence.

From behind Robert signals from his new position, "Ready!" hunkered down he begins laying down precious covering fire.

I look her in the eye, drawing out the seconds as my brain registers the failing barrier, weapon tight in my adrenaline filled hands.

"Go, you and your dragon now! Get back to that palace of yours," I yell keeping the words brief, knowing I couldn't spare any more time for her.

Even in a weakened state, she continues to feed her energy towards the failing barrier, ignorant of my command. The stubborn resistance forces me to take immediate measures.

I forcefully grab Myandra's upper arm, manhandling her stiff form towards her reptilian mount. "You're gonna get yourself killed for Christ's sake, go now!!" anger seeps into my tone, overriding my calm demeanor.

As rough as my actions are, the dragon made no moves against me, seeming to understand my intent with its rider.

"Tell your allies we're under a, " I pause, piecing together an apt description for an illumination flare, "....falling red star."

"I can still assis-"

I cut her off, doubling my glare, "Don't even think about it, just tell that Black Hand detachment of what I said."

"You want to assist in this war, you start by doing that."

"But...very well." The Seeker climbs up the saddle, urgent in her movement, sparing me a single glance once done.

Whatever it is she was trying to convey through that action, it went down the gutter, my mind purposely ignoring that little detail.

"Astel.....to the skies...." she averts her head, downcasted.

Her upper body frames itself against the failing blue barrier as her mount bellows out a striking cry, its massive wings pushing through the canopy, revealing a brief glimpse of the aerial battle taking place above.

The battle in the air is just as intense as it is on the ground, as of right now, the drone feed is filled with a flurry of contacts, now more than ever. Sweat begins to form on my neck, as my nerves threaten to dispel the military focus within.

The protective shielding dissipates as I make a speedy retreat, dissolving into a fine blue mist, resolute in existing in that form for only a few sparse seconds.

I reach my new position behind my comrade, "Ready!!" serving as the cue for him to move.

The peeling maneuver continues. We work around each other, covering the other's retreat, simultaneously engaging the Yhunian Rangers, while attempting to move out of their offensive range.

In any given moment, there is always one rifle firing at the enemy. Our answer against the hostility.

Amidst the dangers we keep track of our remaining shots, reloading on the move if necessary, carefully inching towards the other half of our fireteam.

"Desert One, my optics are picking up heat sigs on the enemy's rear, they're under attack by Euralian ground assets, can you ID them over?"

I spare a glance back, night vision confirming the visual. A heavy barrage catches the Federation's soldiers by their throats, relentless in both volume and ferocity.

The scene before my eyes pushes down that small smudge of worry.

"Affirmative, they're Black Hand soldiers," I respond to Douglas, basing the answer off our departed Seeker's words.

It was about damn time those assholes responded.

Seeing the change in the situation, I stop my retreat, "Regroup on my position, we're digging in until the Jaguars arrive."

The expected reply comes in almost immediately, "We're already Oscar Mike, you'll be seeing us shortly on the enemy's eastern flank."

A brief look is taken at their general direction, visor highlighting the two UN operatives in a blue hue. Their acronyms are displayed in an efficient manner above their outlined forms.

[ D-02 : Douglas]

[ D-03 : James ]

A lucky hit grazes my shoulder. The hot sting digs into the skin as my lips release a silent wince. I immediately get back to cover, only to notice its failing integrity. The pain is the least of my worries.

It was impossible to hide behind the same cover for even a minute due to the enemy's method of attack. The rough terrain, coupled with the densely packed forest meant everything is susceptible to fire.

The heavy scent of burning wood fills my nostrils, overpowering the filters of my helmet. The inferno was relentless in its rapid growth.

It brought forth a hidden reserve of anger within me, watching my surroundings wilt away due to the intense heat.

A thick layer of smog replaces the once clean midnight air. As the fire intensifies, so did the light it gave off. No longer did my eyes require the aid of night vision googles. I push the offending device upwards, glaring at the enemy with my naked eye for the first time.

We are not facing a conventional enemy, at least by modern standards. But the core values of military training still hold a considerable degree of relevance.

"Keep up the pressure, let them have it!!" I defiantly sound out, timing it to a heavy salvo against the nimble troops of Faction Beta. The enemy fire notably decreases, possibly signifying some unconfirmed hits.

With their conjured shields taken down, the GD-45 will punch right their armor.

"Extended wedge formation now!" I command over the radio, overpowering the chaotic ambiance stemming from our magnetic rifles.

Through the local channel, Douglas and James voice their acknowledgements, shifting their position closer, covering each other's advance.

Every moment spent fighting the enemy, meant more time for the Rotor wings to arrive. The Euralian Black Hand soldiers were helpful in that regard.

I keep in mind the two pilots of the Valor, knowing my fellow operatives are the only line of defense for them.

It goes without saying I was not the only one skirting along this train of thought. We all spare a glance towards one another, distance be dammed, conveying our readiness through our respective visors.

Determination begins to flood our senses, sharpening our vision against the smog and terrain. Creeping shadows, each one birthed by the fires, flicker on the edges of my vision.

Our comms then remain silent, the sharp emptiness a distant reflection of our mirrored personas out on the field. My fireteam will hold our ground, even against a numerically superior group of hostiles with the tenacity to possibly match our own.

We all work as one singular entity, covering each other's blind spots, our actions being the only means of communication.

Our weapons, skills and incredible sense of teamwork are the only advantages I can reliably count on. Hopefully that will be enough to keep us afloat.

"Alright, pop the lights," I say, prompting the release of a single flare. Remaining huddled in place, I watch it rise through the canopy with a well aimed shot.

"It's up and away," one of my men responds, fingers still tightly anchored around his flare gun.

My eyes capture the shimmering red flare on its ascent. The unexpected spectacle draws captive gazes alike from the warring factions.

This should draw the Euralians' none hostile attention, assuming Myandra followed through with her instructions.

Until help arrives, we only have ourselves to defend Vulture and the package.

Fingers crossed on this one....

======

-2204 Military Hours
-Tatarus Base, Mountain Perimeter

Tired as my legs are, the steep mountains did little to deter my curiosity on what resides within the uncharted Fredgel Alps. The Lord General was quite adamant in uncovering the motives of this secretive race.

This quest is one I have taken to with the knowledge I possess. My cadre's repeated encounters with their dark-clad soldiers were something that could only be explained by the intervention of fate.

The air is thin, my ears grow clouded with the height. But still, my determination remains as steadfast as ever, the top of the mountain is within my grasp, I need only to order my legs to press forward.

I can already see the hallmarks of their presence, strange crescent structures lay on the peaks of nearby mountains. These unknown constructs were just as foreign to me as their aerial mount above.

It shadows us still, matching our every move no matter the speed. For a lifeless construct it was deceptively swift not unlike a river's ebb and flow, giving off the ominous grace of an all-seeing hunter.

It keeps a respectable distance preferring to reside in the air, seeking neither to approach nor attack. The construct's thunderous growl did much to annoy me, as well as my fellow scouts.

Beyond that, it seems content to merely observe us as we venture further into what was undoubtedly its nesting grounds.

"Eyes keened, we are almost to the top," I say, much of my body filled with anticipation. Finally, after a weary journey of almost two days through the lush planes and forests of South Eastern Euralia.

"The trek ends, and our search for clarity begins, " Oswin mutters, voice sapped of vitality, but honed with undying loyalty.

My fellow scouts heed his words, following under the banner of my leadership. With great strides we make our way to the top underneath the presence of the beautiful stars.

Like their timeless serenity, their numbers can never truly be put into words.

"We are here to scout, nothing more. Do not allow your crystals to flare brightly, I suspect they will deem the strong glow to be a threat," I point out, drawing magic away from my staff.

I take a moment to collect my thoughts, basking in the cold air of a peaceful night. The magical aura of my battle brothers and sisters resonates with a moment of triumph as we gaze down into the hidden valley within.

The keen sight of my magic imbued eyes did well to reveal a scene that shakes my very being to the core. There are buildings, appearing drained of creativity with their dull appearances. But the brightness they emit is equal to that of a bustling town, perhaps I would go as far as to say it rivals that of a city.

On the far end, a plaza houses more of their lifeless constructs, all as dormant as a rock without a rider within their empty confines. They number more than fifteen strong, enough to form a silverwing strike pack.

Rising proudly on a pole, a prominently blue flag flutters to the rhythm sort forth by the winds. In the center lies a laurel wreath in the colors of white, protectively cradling a map of their territories. It is evident even from first glance that this map spans over several continents.

A super kingdom...

This is all so intriguing, but this was only the beginning of what I could describe as my eyes continue to peer with ever more astonishment, catching every cryptic detail this fortress has to offer.

And yet for all that wonder, none could hold a beacon to the thing in the centre of this hidden valley. A daunting sphere of energy, larger than any ever conjured in history. Its shade of black was stronger than that of a bottomless abyss, my senses tingle with awe at such a sight.

It is devoid of detail yes, but nonetheless it was rife with.... an incredible amount of magic. Could this be the reason why these people are utterly empty of magic? Though the thought is amusing, I believe there is more to this than my foolish assumption.

This...Rift must be the herald of their arrival, such a strange entity is surely the reason for the existence of an equally strange race. Thellius believes the word of a few dishonored Yhunian prisoners, it appears his wisdom rings the truth.

Were that the case, they just like me are far away from home. But unlike them, my home... my town has the sun's warm embrace. I dearly miss the townsfolk, especially him.

Even now my heavy heart clenches as his face blooms into my mind, the smiles and laughter we shared were something I've kept within my soul.

Until the time comes when I am relieved of this war conscription, I can only look to uphold my duties as one who is touched with the Crystal Herald's gift. There must be a reason for all the happenings on this world, right?

Drowned to my own thoughts, the rest of my comrades decide to move down into the valley, weary of both the steep rocks and the valley's foreign inhabitants. I eventually rejoin them, pausing to spare a questioning look to the aerial construct above, wishing for it to somehow reveal its purpose above us.

"There is urgency in those men," the group's life mender points out, tone focused with curiosity. Her gaze is towards the east, eyes undoubtedly on something of particular interest.

I follow her eyes, meeting the sight of odd-looking soldiers rushing towards the plaza. Their steps are clumsy and loud, urgent as their reasonings may be, it is no excuse to not be silent, they are definitely not worthy as scouts.

"They are new..." I mutter, as they continue to act upon their urgency. Eight soldiers in total, they step into the confines of their aerial constructs awash with heated voices between one another.

"Indeed, another nation perhaps?"

"Not likely, it is of the same language."

They are different in armor, but the gait of a warrior is present in those steps. Their weapons as well resemble that of a crossbow, deadly in battle for certain.

"Halt," I command, stopping the rest of my scouting group from venturing further into this cradle of uncertainty, "something is not right.."

My words are not without caution, it appears they have taken action against us in the form of their aerial mounts.

"Have we broken their patience?" A guarded voice says, belonging to Oswin.

"I do not know..." I admit, watching the scene unfold.

Now filled with soldiers, I watch as life is breathed onto their sharp blades. They swirl with ever increasing speed with a clean rumble, barely heard even with expectant ears. The two menacing constructs of flight take to the skies, swiftness and danger present in their sleek forms as they soar undaunted into the night.

Both are different to the one shadowing above, their backs have only one wing instead of two. Greater in size and speed, I believe these variants serve a similar role to Euralian Silverwings in battle.

"They head north...." Towards the war, where great battles rage in the day and where the nights are fraught with attacks by Yhunian Rangers and lone shadow assassins.

Their predatory shapes blend into the distant night, casting a broken silouhette amongst the many stars of this world.

"It seems they are drawn to conflict, always without fail," I comment, earning approvals from my fellow scouts, "I still wonder why." My hands instinctively grab the pendant, finding solace in its closeness to my heart.

"Perhaps this is why some prefer to call them skirmishers, instead of humans."

Against the empty well of answers within, I could do nothing but agree with the life mender's words. The stars look down upon this world, as they did since the beginning of time itself.

If only they could speak, they could tell me of all that they know of this place.

===End===

*Flashback*

-August 29th 2037
-United States, Boston

It was on a dime when I made the decision to head towards a nearby cafe, I was there for only an hour, and yet it changed the course of my life forever.

Summer break was almost over back then, I remember going there to clear up my thoughts. I took a seat, ordered a drink and wasted my afternoon away. At least that was the plan.

An old man sat across me, we talked. The man was an army vet. He made me realize the importance of having a purpose to fight for, made me realize there was more to life than I once thought.

I always had reservations about joining the military, even though I knew deep down that was what I wanted. Catherine wouldn't like that, neither did our mom.

But he was right, I needed something to fight for if I wanted my life to have any meaning. What I wanted, I will never find it if I stayed along this path.

I told him of my aspirations, he responded with this.

"Then what are you waiting for? Sign those papers son."

There are moments that can change the course of a life forever, this was one of them. Had it not been for him, I could have been the everyday salary man.

It was ten years ago, but that day in the cafe changed everything about me.

I didn't know his name. But I will never forget his face, or the wisdom he shared with me.

Looking back, he probably saw the soldier within me.

It takes one to know another....