Fifteen minutes had passed since the flight of helicopters pierced through the storm wall, yet they were still lost, disoriented over an unfamiliar landscape. Unbeknownst to the pilots and crew, they were no longer in Germany—they had been transported to an unknown region of Europe, 14 years into the future. It was now the year 2062.

The pilot of Phoenix 6-6 broke the tense silence over the comms, his voice calm but firm. "Keep a tight formation, people. Eyes open and heads on a swivel. We don't know what's out here, so stay sharp and be ready for anything."

Acknowledgments came swiftly from the other helicopters, their voices steady but tinged with uncertainty.

"Copy that, Phoenix 6-6."

"Understood."

"Lima Charlie, Phoenix 6-2."

"Solid copy."

"Wilco."

With that, the formation pressed onward, blades cutting through the unfamiliar skies, each pilot and crew member scanning the landscape below for any sign of recognition—or threat. They were flying deeper into the unknown, unaware of the era or the dangers that awaited them in this strange, future world.

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Meanwhile, a few hours later, deep in a snowy forest, a group of armed girls trudged through the cold, their movements slow and uncertain. They looked lost, unsure of where to go next. The first three were equipped with PPSh-41 submachine guns, the next trio wielded dual Vz. 61 Skorpions, and the last three carried G43 rifles. Despite their armament, their demeanor suggested a lack of direction—perhaps even purpose.

High above them, on a nearby cliff, a team of four silently observed the group. The leader, a woman with a tan M4A1 carbine, scanned the forest below. Next to her, another woman held an old Vietnam-era M16A1, her face hardened, an eyepatch covering her left eye. Beside them, the third member cradled an M4A1 SOPMOD II, decked out in tactical gear. The last member of the team held a civilian AR-15, set up for precision shooting, positioned to cover any long-range threats.

"Griffin T-Dolls? What are they doing here?" the woman with the SOPMOD II asked, her voice low but curious as she watched the group below.

The eyepatched woman with the M16A1 narrowed her eyes. "Griffin had a mission here to clear out Sangvis forces. They're spread pretty thin these days. I'd bet whoever was commanding this squad lost hope and abandoned them." Her tone was blunt, but there was a trace of bitterness behind her words.

"Abandoned..." The leader with the M4A1 carbine muttered to herself, her mind turning over the idea. It wasn't uncommon in these times, but still...

"So, what do we do?" the SOPMOD II operator asked, her gaze never leaving the T-Dolls below. "It's convenient to recover them, right?"

Before the leader could respond, the woman with the M16A1 cut in. "Don't bother," she said sharply. "They don't look capable of anything useful—certainly not clandestine ops. If they're in offline mode, Sangvis won't waste time on them either. Let's keep moving."

The leader hesitated but eventually nodded, agreeing with her assessment. "Right. We can't take every stray we come across."

With that, the team silently pulled back from the cliff, leaving the lost T-Dolls behind as they continued their mission, the snow muffling their retreat into the cold, unforgiving wilderness.

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Back in the air, the flight of lost helicopters was still struggling to establish any communication with their commander or nearby units. So far, all attempts had failed.

The pilot of Phoenix 6-2 glanced at his fuel gauge—half a tank left. He decided to check in with the rest of the flight.

"Phoenix flight, report fuel status," he requested over the radio.

"Phoenix 6-3 here, I'm at half capacity," came the first reply.

"Phoenix 6-6," another voice followed, "I'm nearing half a tank as well."

"Same here, sir," confirmed another pilot.

With everyone running on half fuel and nightfall already settling over the mountain range, there was a growing tension among the crews. Thankfully, the Rangers onboard were geared up for cold weather, having prepared for combat in freezing conditions.

"Hey, Captain!" called Corporal Collins, breaking the silence as he leaned toward Xayesana.

"Yes, Corporal?" Xayesana responded, adjusting his helmet as he looked at the snow-covered Carpathian Mountains below.

"Do you really think we got... teleported or something?" Collins asked, his tone a mix of doubt and worry.

Xayesana paused, gazing out into the cold expanse. "I don't know, soldier. This isn't exactly in the job description." He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "But something's definitely not right."

Another Ranger chimed in from the back of the chopper, "If we did, sir, maybe we can figure out what the hell's going on ourselves. Excuse my language."

"It's fine," Xayesana nodded.

"You know," another voice piped up, this time from a Ranger sitting near the edge, "I think I've seen these mountains before."

"Oh yeah?" a squad leader across from him raised an eyebrow. "You want to enlighten us, Private?"

The private shifted his weight, looking out of the chopper. "I think we're in Ukraine. I recognized these peaks from some geography stuff I read as a kid."

A murmur spread through the cabin.

"How the hell did we go from flying near Leipzig to Ukraine?" another Ranger asked, the confusion evident on his face. "And why? What even brought us here?"

"Beats me, man. I wish I had answers," the Private responded. "But I do have a theory."

"Alright, conspiracy theorist," said the Ranger next to him, ready to hear more. "Hit us with your best shot."

"My guess? That storm wall we flew through—it wasn't just a storm. I think it was some sort of... portal. We didn't see any other aircraft from our side get dragged in, which means this might be targeted."

He paused for a moment, looking at his watch, and his expression darkened.

"What's up, Private?" Sergeant Davies asked, noticing the change.

"If you check your watches..." the Private hesitated before finishing. "The year isn't 2048 anymore. It's 2062."

The cabin fell silent as the others quickly checked their watches. Disbelief washed over them.

"So, not only are we in Ukraine, but we time-traveled 14 years into the future?" one Ranger muttered, holding his MK46 close.

"Fantastic..." the Nightstalker crew chief dryly remarked, leaning out of the chopper's side. The cold wind whipped at his face as he scanned the snowy terrain below, his harness preventing him from slipping out.

With their night vision goggles down and camo face paint blending into the shadows, the Rangers sat with their feet dangling over the edge, mentally preparing themselves for whatever was coming next.

The pilot of Phoenix 6-4 leaned out slightly from his cockpit window, scanning the area. He kept a sharp eye on any potential threats below, keeping tabs on the rest of the formation. Just as he relaxed for a moment, something caught his attention at his ten o'clock.

"This is Phoenix 6-4, I've got some activity at my 10 o'clock, over," he reported, his voice tense but steady.

"Roger that, eyes on," responded Phoenix 6-6. "Captain Xayesana, requesting permission to move in for a closer look."

"Copy, greenlight," Xayesana authorized. "Let's get eyes on and see if we can offer any assistance."

With the order given, the Special Operations helicopters banked left, heading toward the ground activity. Xayesana quickly coordinated the teams.

"Alright, let's split into three groups. Group one: Phoenix 6-3, 6-4, Buzzsaw 4-2, Buzzsaw 4-6, Hunter 3-2, and Hunter 3-6. Cover the left sector."

"Copy that," came the replies as the choppers shifted into position.

"Group two: Phoenix 6-5, Phoenix 6-2, Gunfighter 2-4, Gunfighter 2-6, cover the right sector."

"Affirmative, Gunfighter 2-4 moving in," the Apache pilot acknowledged, taking his position.

"Mustang 6-2, 6-4, 6-5, stay in a holding pattern and be ready to move on my call. You're the reserve element." Xayesana's voice was firm, his tone sharp as he wrapped up the orders. "My callsign is Avelon, out."

The helicopters reached their designated zones, awaiting further instructions.

"Hunter 3-2, get a closer look at the situation on the ground," Xayesana commanded.

"Roger that, going in for recon," the Little Bird pilot acknowledged, descending into the combat zone. His voice crackled back over the radio. "Avelon actual, this is Hunter 3-2. We've got visual on multiple Sangvis units—Vespids, Rippers, and Jaeger models. They're engaging a two-story building. I can see three muzzle flashes from the windows. Please advise, over."

"Hunter 3-2, are those inside engaging you, over?" Xayesana asked.

"Negative, sir. The ones inside are heavily outnumbered and appear to be in a desperate situation. Request permission to assist, over."

"OK. Hunter 3-6, link up with 3-2 and provide air support. Phoenix 6-3, 6-4, deploy your Rangers 100 meters east of your current position."

"Solid copy, looking for a safe LZ, out," came the response.

As the two Black Hawks approached the LZ, the Rangers inside began to prepare, adjusting their NVGs and securing their goggles to keep the blowing snow out of their eyes.

"This is it, boys," the squad leader of Phoenix 6-3 spoke over the intercom. "We're about to get into a fight—let's do this clean and fast."

"I see an open area, preparing to land," the pilot announced, and within seconds, the Black Hawk touched down. The Rangers disembarked, quickly forming a secure perimeter as the second chopper came in and dropped its squad. Both helicopters lifted off into the night sky immediately afterward.

"Avelon, this is Phoenix 6-3. Ranger chalks deployed. We're moving into an overhead pattern, over," the pilot reported.

"Copy that. Avelon 2-6, Avelon 1-6, proceed to the combat zone and eliminate all hostile forces engaging the building," Xayesana ordered.

"Roger, Avelon. We're Oscar Mike, out," the squad leader confirmed, using hand signals to move his men forward.

As the Rangers made their way to the combat zone, the Little Birds lined up for a gun run.

"Man, look at those targets," the pilot of Hunter 3-2 chuckled. "This is what you call a target-rich environment."

"Too right," his co-pilot replied with a grin.

Flying in a tight formation, the two Little Birds roared toward the enemy, preparing to rain fire down from above.

(Play Medal of Honor's song called "Enemy Down" over here)

The two Little Birds, hovering like hawks over the battlefield, got closer to the ground. Their sights aligned with the clusters of enemies below. Without hesitation, the pilots squeezed the triggers, unleashing the fury of their 7.62mm M134 miniguns. Streams of glowing tracer rounds cut through the night air, lighting up the sky as lead rained down on the Sangvis dolls below. The short, controlled burst from each minigun lasted barely two seconds, but it was enough to tear through the enemy's ranks.

"First run complete, looping around for another pass," the lead pilot of Hunter 3-2 announced, banking the chopper back east for another attack.

Meanwhile, on the ground, the Rangers stealthily advanced through the dense forest. Moving as shadows, they reached a natural slope overlooking the combat zone. At the top, they dropped into prone positions, setting up a defensive line while they scouted the battlefield below.

"Get that SAW up here," one of the squad leaders barked. "Pick your targets, and engage anything moving."

The MK46 machine gunner, already in position, dug into the dirt and aimed down the sight. Once the order came, he and the rest of the Rangers opened fire. M4 SOPMOD rifles, equipped with armor-piercing rounds, spat death at the enemy forces, ripping through the Sangvis dolls with precision. The buzz of the MK46 added a staccato beat to the orchestra of destruction.

With every shot, more of the enemy fell. The Sangvis dolls, despite their numbers, were being systematically picked apart. Overhead, the Little Birds swooped back in for another run, their miniguns lighting up the battlefield and adding to the chaos. They launched Hydra rockets next, the explosive payloads sending shockwaves through the enemy lines, shattering their ranks.

"Woohoo! Take some of that!" one of the Rangers shouted, cutting down another Sangvis doll with a well-aimed burst.

As the Rangers advanced, they suddenly began receiving return fire from an enemy position just ahead.

"Contact at 1 o'clock!" a Ranger called out, quickly adjusting his aim.

Several Rangers turned and unleashed a fresh volley of fire at the new threat. Their night vision goggles painted the enemy in shades of green, making it easy to spot targets as they returned fire.

"Damn, these androids still can't handle our rounds," a Ranger said as he emptied a magazine into a Sangvis Ripper.

"You just jinxed us, Mata," another Ranger, Sergeant Hamm, replied with a smirk.

"Well, if we run into anything tougher, you owe me 50 bucks," Sergeant Mata joked.

"I didn't agree to any bet," Hamm said with a shake of his head.

"Eyes on! Two runners, armed with AR-15s," a Ranger shouted, spotting two figures descending from the building the Sangvis were attacking. "Orders, Staff Sergeant?"

Staff Sergeant Cortez raised his scope to get a better look. "Suppressive fire! Keep the enemy off them!" he ordered, as he resumed firing. The squad opened up, laying down a thick wall of lead to give cover to the mysterious newcomers.

Overhead, the Little Birds' miniguns whirred to a halt, the pilots calling in their ammunition status.

"Avelon Actual, this is Hunter 3-2. Winchester on ammo. Request permission to disengage," one of the pilots radioed in, the sound of wind roaring through the cockpit.

"Copy, Hunter 3-2. Return to the holding pattern. Buzzsaw 4-6, you're up. Provide air support, over."

The Buzzsaw Black Hawk swooped in to replace the Little Birds, its door gunners opening up with their own miniguns, spraying the battlefield with a deadly hail of rounds.

"We see your IR strobes," one of the Buzzsaw pilots radioed down to the Rangers. "We've got you covered. Engaging now."

The miniguns roared to life, lighting up the dark night as they cut down anything in their path. Sangvis dolls, scrambling for cover, were mowed down by the combined firepower of the Rangers and the helicopters.

Meanwhile, the Rangers were keeping up their relentless pressure, pausing only to reload or shift their positions slightly. One Ranger fumbled with a fresh magazine, alerting his squadmates.

"Reloading! Cover me!"

"I got you, brother!" another Ranger called back, providing suppressive fire until his teammate was back in action.

Then, something unexpected caught Cortez's eye. Two figures – young girls – were charging down the slope, armed with a variety of firearms that looked more like relics from a museum. One carried a civilian AR-15, while another was wielding what looked like a SOPMOD II. Not far behind them, a group of other girls followed, wielding old World War II-era weapons like the PPSh submachine gun and Gewehr 43 rifles.

"Avelon Actual, this is Avelon 1-6. We've got new contacts in the AO. They're not hostile – yet. Please advise."

Up in the command chopper, Captain Xayesana adjusted his binoculars to get a closer look. He saw what the Rangers were seeing—girls, clearly not part of the Sangvis forces, engaging the enemy with outdated weapons. It was bizarre, but they were fighting on the same side. Before Xayesana could issue a new directive, his pilot's voice crackled through the comms.

"Captain, we're almost at bingo fuel. We've got a signal from a nearby airbase—looks like it's operational. We need to land soon, or we'll risk a crash."

Xayesana weighed the options quickly. They couldn't afford to linger in the air much longer.

"Understood," he radioed back. Then, to the ground teams, he gave the order. "Avelon 1-6, 2-6, break contact and fall back to the LZ. We're extracting, over."

Staff Sergeant Cortez, hearing the order, raised an eyebrow. "Interrogative, sir. Why are we pulling out?"

"Son, we're running low on fuel, and these birds aren't staying in the air much longer. We've got a base nearby we're aiming to land at. No promises if it's friendly, but it's our only option. If we don't move now, we'll be stuck here. You get me?"

Cortez sighed, nodded, and relayed the orders to his squad. "Understood, sir. Pulling out now."

With the new directive in place, the Rangers began falling back, retreating into the cover of the forest. The Black Hawks circled overhead, preparing for extraction as the last of the Rangers made it back to the LZ. One by one, the squads boarded the choppers, the rotor blades kicking up snow and dirt as the birds lifted off.

As the Black Hawks soared into the night sky, the Rangers settled back into their seats, weapons still at the ready. They had been pulled out before the fight was fully over, but they had inflicted heavy damage on the enemy. Now, their focus shifted to the mysterious airbase ahead, and what awaited them there.

You might be wondering what the other perspective thought of the Rangers' presence, huh? Well sit back and read

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Earlier...

The four-woman team waited patiently, their leader scanning the sky with a calm, calculated gaze.

"Confirming coordinates. V6J69-HJYRV. Clear weather, calm wind, good visibility," the Carbine team leader announced before speaking into her headset. "Persica, this is the AR Team."

A monotonous, female voice responded on the other end. "Good work."

The team leader didn't waste time. "We've confirmed the location of records and research data signed by Lyco in a Sangvis recon command post."

"I found it!" SOPMOD II chimed in enthusiastically, grinning ear to ear.

"Okay, and?" Persica prompted.

"There's a mainframe with data from when Lyco was still alive, located at Safe House No. 3. We will proceed to search, retrieve, and send it to 16LAB," the team leader continued.

"Understood. I'll leave it to you." Persica's tone remained unhurried as she signed off, leaving the AR Team to their mission.

M4A1, the leader of the AR Team, turned to her squad. "Let's move. The Sangvis forces won't wait for us to make the first move."

"Finally!" SOPMOD II exclaimed, eager for action.

"Keep it together. We're not here to play," AR15 said sharply, her serious tone a reminder of the stakes.

"Let's get this done, Captain," M16A1 urged.

"AR Team, commence operation!" M4A1 commanded, signaling the start of their mission.

They moved swiftly through the forest, falling into a squad diamond formation. M4A1 took point, leading them closer to their objective, Safe House No. 3.

As they advanced, AR15 couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "What do you think about this mission? We were supposed to retrieve experimental data, but now we're digging up a dead man's files in Sangvis territory."

M16A1 responded, her tone pragmatic. "We're T-Dolls. We complete the missions given to us."

M4A1 cut in telepathically, shutting down any further questioning. "Focus. We're close to the objective."

Reaching the safe house, AR15 planted a breaching charge on the door. The team stacked up, preparing to move in.

"...You're right," AR15 muttered just as the charge detonated, blowing the door open.

The team quickly entered, clearing the building in precise, calculated movements. Inside, they found an ancient, pre-war era Windows 10 computer. M4A1 approached and contacted Persica again.

"We've reached the objective."

"Did you find the data?" Persica asked, sounding slightly more engaged.

"The OS is too old. We can't bypass the authentication process. We'll need a password."

Persica sighed. "Right... Try '90WISHROCKX', all caps."

M4A1 entered the password and the screen flickered to life. "We're in. I'm accessing the database now."

"Good. Copy everything to your memory and bring it back. No wireless transmission; Sangvis might intercept it. Destroy the mainframe before you leave."

"Understood." M4A1 got to work as the rest of the team held position.

AR15 leaned against a wall, scoping out the perimeter. "So, we're using an SF database to search for information that not even Sangvis knows about?"

SOPMOD II giggled. "It's like a treasure hunt!"

Suddenly, the computer monitor flickered with static, and a voice broke through their comms. "Indeed, and we are grateful. Thanks to you, we have found the treasure."

M4A1 stiffened, her eyes widening. "We've been hacked!"

The screen shifted, displaying a woman in a maid outfit. "I am Agent, Ringleader of Sangvis Ferri. I've been waiting for you."

"A Ringleader..." M16A1 muttered, eyes narrowing.

"There's something here that my master wants," Agent continued, her voice eerie and sinister. "But we couldn't decode it with the antiquated system. Thanks to you, we can now."

M4 SOPMOD II gritted her teeth. "So, you used us!"

Agent smiled cruelly. "Now all I have to do is scrap you for parts and extract the data from your memory."

"Incoming Sangvis signals! They're closing in fast!" SOPMOD II reported excitedly. "Time to party!"

M4A1 glanced at the monitor—only 12% of the data had been copied. "We need to hold position until the download completes. Prepare for combat!"

The team snapped into action, taking positions around the building. M16A1 peeked through a window and spotted waves of Sangvis dolls approaching.

"There's a lot of them. Conserve your ammo!" M16A1 warned, eyes darting from target to target.

SOPMOD II fired off a few rounds before taking cover as an energy blast nearly grazed her. "Jäger spotted! Bearing 076, range 300!"

M4A1 quickly neutralized the threat. "Stay focused. We're still only halfway through the download."

"I don't think we can hold them off much longer," AR15 said, scanning the horizon. "Wait... I hear something."

M16A1 cocked her head. "Helicopters. Two of them, closing fast."

AR15 confirmed through her scope. "Not Griffin. These guys are armed to the teeth."

Without warning, the helicopters rained down fire on the Sangvis forces. A pair of Black Hawks soared overhead, followed by more transport helicopters.

SOPMOD II watched in awe. "Who are these guys?"

"Can we hack their comms?" M4A1 asked, still focused on the download.

"I'll try," SOPMOD II responded, but after a moment, she shook her head. "Their comms are heavily encrypted. Whoever they are, they're serious."

AR15 continued observing through her scope. "There are human soldiers on the ground, lying prone and engaging the Sangvis forces."

"Humans? But I thought human combat units were obsolete," SOPMOD II remarked, confused.

"They look like Special Forces, but I've never seen uniforms like that," M16A1 added.

M4A1 remained focused on the mission. "We need their help, but first, we need to finish this data transfer. SOPMOD II, AR15, you're with me. We'll rewrite privileges and bring in reinforcements. Let's go!"

The two acknowledged and launched a forced access attempt, sprinting from the building. As they left, M16A1 looked to M4A1.

"We're on our own for now. Let's make it count."

The two held their ground, exchanging fire with the relentless Sangvis forces. Every moment felt like an eternity, but they were determined to see the mission through.

Outside, SOPMOD II and AR15 successfully gained control of a local unit's network, activating nearby T-Dolls to join the fray. Reinforcements began pouring in, allowing the Rangers to regroup and pull out of the fight.

"They're falling back," M16A1 noted, observing the Rangers' retreat as their helicopters lifted off.

"They've done their part. It's up to us now," M4A1 said, turning her attention back to the battle.

As the remaining Sangvis forces closed in, AR Team stood their ground, determined to complete their mission and survive. Now where are the Rangers going to next? Up on next chapter is when we will find out about, tune in next time.

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(A/n: This chapter was brain fucking me because I was in a dilemma of either adding AR Team fighting Agent or not all and just wrap it up, but I decided that this book should focus on the perspective of the Rangers but of course there's going to be a perspective of G&K as they are the stars in the game, so that being said I'm gonna try to balance their screen time as best I can but eitherway, don't forget to leave a comment on what you thought about this book so far and don't forget to point out some things that are wrong so I can fix it up because there may be some other errors that I have miss. So then again, I'll see ya'll on the next, cheers.)

(Made some slight improvements with a little assistance from a friend, so uh... yeah.)