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| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | You know how I said this would be the last time I edit? Well, I lied. After the story is complete, or maybe before then I will post the real final version. You can find the closest version to the final at www.storiesmania.net Nothing major will be altered, there are just a few minor changes. Major Changes. The name Sauske Kato has been changed to Yimang Wang and the name Ups has been changed to Abes out of respect for some people who were somewhat of an inspiration to me while writing this. As the title suggests, this story is a Prologue to the actual story...Like a giant background so I'm sorry if it's lacking in some areas. This Story doesn't contain any inappropriate sexual content at the moment. It does have violence and some language, but I am not sure what warrants an +18 rating so In my opinion it's about a +14 rating. GENRES: Violence, Drama, Adventure. Enjoy! Background: Over a century has passed since the True Gods destroyed our world with their twisted technology. The Millennium Bug tore the earth apart, using our own hellish weapons of destruction against us. Instead of allowing our planet to waste away under the incompetence of man, the monsters decided to wipe their own kind off of the face of the earth by means of nuclear sabotage. We had been learning from past mistakes, we had all gathered in the area once known as western Europe to end our violent ways. If they would have waited one more day, one more hour, the bombs could have been destroyed, we could have been at peace. Peace however, was not a prize meant for man, and we learned that fact all too well. The people of France, Spain, Germany, they were all but annihilated in a matter of seconds, screaming as fire and ash rained upon them. Britain, Japan, as well as the rest of the island nations, were forced back into the raging seas by the sudden rising tides. The ice caps faded, as if ghosts from a former era. Stockpiles of nuclear weapons in both America and Russia waiting to be shipped, were also used to further the heinous festivities into the night. The craters can still be found sleeping inside the former powers of the world, reeking with the stench of charred flesh and covered in radioactive filth. The state of California was spared the fate of her homeland, as it silently drifted into the pacific. Through many civil wars and hostile takeovers, the land would gain the title of the Independent Pacific Confederacy, or IPC. The country of Mexico roared in agony along with its people, as the nation was destroyed beyond salvation, crumbling into dust while fading into the sea. A dark haze soon covered the planet, a haze of death and destruction wiping out all but a fragment of life. For the next forty years, the world was in shambles. The United Nations, with their scattered forces in disarray, soon rose from the ashes of our crumbling existence to become the beacon of hope for mankind. Their greed however, drove them towards tyranny and chaos, consuming the former nations in their hunt for the Gods of destruction plaguing our world. Though twisted and corrupt, everything soon began to fall into place. Many of the great island nations were soon replaced with hulking frames of plastic and metal. Six years after the dawn of the twenty second century, an UN Knight, Yimang Wang, started out on his greatest mission yet, the capture of potential Gods in the arid landmass known as the IPC. His choice, regarding one man in particular, will ignite the spark of hope that will someday rise to challenge destiny itself. Chapter 1: Hell's Tiger It had been a long day for Ensign Yimang Wang. The wreckage of his transport plane was still visible from the beach where he had landed, just shy of the treacherous depths of the Pacific Ocean. Though he was tired and his remaining company had fallen in exhaustion long before him on the sandy trail leading to the slums of the IPC, he kept moving. He had to keep moving for fear of himself. The man who had been named the hero of his time, a true champion of humanity. The man who had defeated countless men before him, who had beaten the odds in every situation. Truly the only thing this great man had to fear was himself. For, if he ever stopped to think, to rest, the memories would return. Not only had he slain countless men, but women, and children; families and relatives along with friends and loved ones. He had tried to reason with the past, to convince himself that he was right and juste, but his efforts gained him nothing but the all too true name of Hell's Tiger. So his only option was to keep moving forward. To forget the past. He had done so and was still doing so, but he was tired now. In mind and body he knew his time was nearing its end. But he was thinking about other things now. About the Intelligence leak and terrorist activity he was sent to investigate. About how a single air mine found its way to his plane, of all places. About how he was in UN occupied territory and yet could see no guards for some distance. All of these thoughts floating about in Yimang's head only served to further irritate the man, for he loathed the IPC with all his being. The ground covering almost all of the landscape was hard, with a light sandy coating which would often become airborne in the drifting breeze that swept through the land. It was enough to drive any man who was not used to it, Yimang included, crazy. The air was humid and their was hardly any shade under the oppressing sun, only sloping hills as far as the eye could see. As he entered the specified checkpoint, one young man approached him. The boy looked him up and down in awe, for though Yimang was in his late forties, his tall, scar covered body was still strong. His straight, long hair was still black as midnight. The boy himself was not soldier material in the least and was startled when Yimang asked "Where is your captain boy?" When the boy finally recovered, he pointed at the captain sitting some distance away. The captain had a look of surprise in his face as he sat by the tactical simulation map. He had not expected anyone from the reinforcement squad to arrive at all, let alone so quickly. The boy then motioned for Yimang to follow him, but the man already had had different plans at the moment. His pistol shined in the sunlight as it was drawn and the shots were fired from Yimang long before the boy could even call his superior's name. They landed twice in the captain's chest killing him instantly. Many of the officers who had their pistols on, instantly pulled them out along with the frightened boy in front of him and shouted "Freeze you bastard!” or "Drop your weapon." Yimang simply pulled out the all purpose papers clarifying his rank and began to walk towards the men. The officers, still hesitant stopped barking orders but continued to eye him at gun point. "My company will arrive shortly to explain of our ambush and the traitor responsible," is all Yimang said as he brushed by them towards what were the captain's quarters to rest. The lack of defense, the surprised look of the captain, and the later discovered wire tapping embedded in his skin, proved Yimang had immediately confirmed the source of the intelligence leak which had lead to his earlier ambush. Even If he had been wrong, no punishment would have been dealt to him. This truth had made him cold and detached from the world. A man with no boundaries. His reputation made him as close to invincible as a man could get, and it made him sick. As Yimang removed his uniform and began to sit, he heard footsteps outside of the captain's tent. "Sorry to interrupt your little pity party," one of his subordinates said as he entered the small, disheveled lodgings. By the man's rare Spanish accent, Yimang could already tell it was Miguel. Though only a private, Miguel was the closest thing to a friend Yimang had. He would try to brush him off like he did the rest of the world time and time again, but the soldier just wouldn't go away. As Yimang looked at the man grinning in front of him, he noticed the subtle changes one goes through when they pass thirty. Miguel had lost the eccentric look of a young man but retained the stature of one. He was also slightly overweight with a clown's grin glued on his face day in and day out even in the most troubling of times. The result was the kind of guy people just want to knock out even if he wasn't there. They were polar opposites, yet they had such a unique relationship it seemed they were brothers. The younger talking continuously and the older trying to shut him up. But Miguel was different today. Even though he was still smiling, Yimang could tell he had something serious to say. "Mr. Wang, Sir!" Miguel exclaimed with his usual unsettling cheeriness, "We have orders to take command of the San Andreas coastline at O' three hundred hours Sir!” At that moment, Yimang smiled. He smiled for the first time in twenty years. "Well then Miguel, ready the artillery for combat, it seems my time here is over," Yimang said as he began putting his tattered uniform back on. "It would seem so," Miguel replied. Even a good 5 meters from the tactical map on base, it was obvious to anyone that the heart of the known rebel and terrorist operations was at San Andreas. The bolded city name was almost completely over shadowed by the red pointed markers that represented the enemy. "If only it looked like that on the battlefield," Yimang mumbled as he passed the table and headed towards the nearest Jeep. Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 06-15-2009 at 04:29 AM. |
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| | #2 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P2 As he entered the vehicle prepared for him, he could already see the new commander pulling in on the other side of the run down courtyard, which served as an equipment storage area. The UN was not trying to hide its intentions in any way. He was too much of a potential threat to be left alive and he had known this for quite some time. He had been given many "death trip" missions as he called them before but never one so obvious as this one. Their mission, as the UN had called it, was to move to the most populated area, in citizens and terrorist organizations, and patrol the area. In other words, it was to sit and wait for the enemy to kill them. The 18 men left in Yimang's company knew this and had prepared accordingly with farewell letters and last minute pictures to their loved ones that would probably never be sent. But they did them anyway. Out of desperation, hope, habit? Yimang didn't know but didn't care either way. All he knew was that his time was up, and he didn't even know how to feel about it at that. Yimang sat in his world of nothingness as his troop inched closer and closer to the hellhole known as San Andreas. Upon entering the city area limits, the soldier in front of Yimang was incinerated by a land mine instantly and the vehicle behind him was ripped apart by machine gun fire. The Ensign was suddenly brought back to reality as gunfire rained down on his company from afar. "Whoo!" a hysterical soldier in front of him screamed "Last one to hell's buyin!" And with that, the battle had started. The life of James Sterling Marcus was not one to be envied. He farmed, Monday through Sunday, from dawn until dusk, only to have the poor IPC government take one half of his food, and rebel factions the other. The only thing he had left to feed his family was what he would manage to hide from both sides. With his son as sick as he was, James was concerned with who would take over the farm when he became too old even though he was only twenty five. All of these problems only added to the stress of his work, making it more unbearable. "My life...sucks," he said over and over again as he worked, tying his bandanna across his forehead, as if it would make his labor… not suck. It was then that he saw the explosions, heard the gunfire, and felt the earth shake with tremendous force. He had no idea of the events that were about to unfold. Yimang Wang, with his remaining troops and artillery, had drawn the enemy out into the open to make his counterattack. Bullets flew by their heads as they ran towards the farmlands with all hell's speed. The Ensign did this, not to minimize civilian casualties in the least, but to utilize his artillery force to its full extent. As the enemy forces continued to advance under the UN’s light gunfire, returning the favor any chance they got, Yimang signaled for their secret weapon to engage the enemy. "Hell ya!" a soldier screamed as he maneuvered the attack type VIPER around the hill where it had been hidden. The rebels retreated immediately upon sighting the long gray frame of the artillery unit, but it was far too late. The VIPER fired explosive shells in a fashion worthy of its name, the long angled cannon constantly moving to and fro as it launched countless volleys of ammunition. The precise shells tore through legs, arms, and the like as if they were paper. They then exploded, finishing the screaming, injured men off. Bullets bounced off its armor like children's toys as the men desperately tried to fend off the vicious onslaught upon them. "There are still some left, behind the house, nine o'clock!" Miguel said to the pilot of the VIPER unit from a foxhole for one he had conveniently dug. "Right! I'll flank from the slope to the right side then," the soldier said and started to move the long, slender tank. "Fire from here. We can't afford to waste time," Yimang said coldly. The soldier hesitated "But if I fire from here sir the house..." he said as his hands began to tremble slightly. Yimang pointed his rifle at the doubtful soldier and shouted "God Dammit boy! If you can't do it then I will! I don't have time to screw around with a damned useless load of crap like you!" The soldier obeyed and fired without a second thought. The ground rumbled with a strangely intense ferocity. In an instant, the house collapsed crushing the men behind it. "Check the area for survivors with the scope, Miguel, we need to eliminate any stragglers before they send in their next attack," Yimang barked. "Sir!" Miguel shouted shortly afterwards, "It looks like there's one more. Located on the hill at seven o'clock." Yimang looked at the terrified soldier piloting the VIPER and ordered "Finish it." James wasn't thinking. He had stopped thinking when he saw his home destroyed. He stopped thinking when he left his dying son to avenge his wife who was taken from him in an instant. He wasn't crying, he wasn't angry. He was beyond those feelings. Beyond pain or sorrow. "Damn you!" he screamed at the figures of men in the distance as he charged towards them. The pain of losing his family was slowly sinking in as he ran. The vision of his wife covering the torn body of her son with her own as the flames engulfed them became clearer and clearer with every passing second. “Rachel. Troy,” James said with a voice of despair. The pain he felt was more intense than anything he had ever felt before as he became numb to reality in his blinding rage. James didn't flinch as the massive gun on the tank before him started to move in the distance, or when the vehicle recoiled from firing, not even when the shell could be seen hurtling towards him. He didn't really care at that point. He was going to make them pay. The rage had consumed him to the point where the cries of his family did not reach him. Where the disparate pleas of his wife, urging him to take their dying son were all but whispers in the raging storm of his heart. “I see,” was all Rachel said as she watched her husband disappear from sight, her vision blocked by the flames that had engulfed her. Whispering softly into her frightened child's arms, her body began to fail under the scorching heat and intoxicating smoke that surrounded them. Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 06-15-2009 at 04:26 AM. |
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| | #3 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P3 The shell fired at the man in the distance seemed to travel in slow motion for the soldiers under the command of Ensign Wang. They were terrified of their leader. The man ordered a shell worth two months salary, to be fired at what seemed to be a farmer in clear view, though truly it was an interesting sight to behold. They all knew his newfound blood lust would only get them killed even sooner, but there was nothing they could do. To oppose such a man would be suicide. This fear, however, did not compare to the dread they felt as they watched the out-going shell hit, and enter the soil. They all knew what was about to happen next. The shell used in the VIPER was an impact shell; it was not designed to penetrate the ground. In the unstable territory of the IPC, penetration meant loose ground, and loose ground meant earthquakes. "Jesus Christ! Everyone, get back!” Miguel screamed as a mighty roar sounded from the earth below. “The hills are the safest place to wait out the shock," he continued as he jumped onto the large tank. The other soldiers did the same, and soon after, Yimang started to head for the vehicle. As he ran, the ground began to rumble with a vengeance. The large sloping hills of the farming district began to sway, as if drifting in the wind. "Leave him! He’s too far away. He'll just get us killed!" two of the soldiers screamed. The truth everyone wanted to say was that they didn't want him to survive, but no one dared say such a thing out of fearful respect. Yimang watched as the VIPER sped off. He wasn't surprised. They were all recently recruited. The carnage of battle was new to them and so were his methods. As the tank grew farther and farther into the distance, the ground under him began to cave in. He soon realized that not just the ground under him, but the whole valley was sinking. "Well, if I'm gonna die here I might as well light up," the aging man said as he reached for his handy cigar pouch "I knew they'd get me sooner or later." At that moment, a voice from behind him screamed "Burn in hell!" followed by a large force smashing into his body from behind. Expecting to hit the ground, Yimang looked towards the soil below but, to his utter surprise, the ground was falling with him. "Crap..” said both men as they began to tumble into the opening below. As if out of respect for James' choice of wording, Yimang tossed his cigar to the man behind him and began lighting another. Then, as if to join in on the celebrations, the ground returned once more. When he awoke, Yimang found the young man a little further onward. The area that was once a valley was now a small canyon. The ground was a light gray, with more rock than sand around the bottom. High above him, the sun shined with intense ferocity. He quickly found that due to the heat, not all of the rocks were safe to touch as he rubbed his aching hands. The rocks themselves were positioned oddly and Yimang found he had the reasoning ability not to try and climb unstable rock formations, especially in an earthquake-prone area. He then moved his focus to the man next to him. The man was in his twenties, around six feet tall; somewhat muscular with dark skin and a yellow bandanna with what seemed to be a fresh, circular burn mark through to the forehead. Yimang pondered the origin of such an oddly shaped injury, but stopped when the answer became clear. "I'm going to tear you to pieces," the man mumbled as he staggered to his feet. Yimang was surprised the man could get to his feet after a fall from that height. It was certainly not an easy feat to accomplish for a normal human. All ranking soldiers in the UN undergo body enhancements to almost double speed, strength, and endurance. It was the most significant difference between the UN and rebellion forces around the world and was what allowed for them to control more than seventy percent of the globe. "Bastard!” the man said as he approached Yimang. Yimang then reached for his rifle, then his pistol, only to find them both missing. Upon a quick search he spotted them at the young man's feet. "Well," Yimang sighed, "Aren't you going to pick them up? Aren't you going to kill me?” He said this knowing a ranking soldier's gun only fires when handled by an enhanced human. "There's no way in hell I'd use your damned gun," The man said and picked up a rounded stick. "If you kill me," Yimang started, "you'd be no better." "No," the man replied as he charged at Yimang "Once you kill innocent people you're not human! You're worse than an animal!" ”And...” Yimang answered, knocking his opponent to the floor, "if you were in my position, if you were forced into military service at gun point like the rest of us, what would you do?!” At this point, Yimang began to move towards his gun but stopped when the man replied "I don't know. But I do know I would never defile myself in the blood of innocent people." Yimang simply stared at the man. He sounded like he'd just come out of a comic book. And that's when his personality changed. He was no longer angry or tense. Instead, he was calm and controlled, facing the man who had just gotten back up to his feet again. Once again, Yimang was impressed with his resilience. "You think you could do better? Fine, let’s see you try. If you can kill me and succeed, then I'd be atoning for my sins by helping you undo them. If not, then you have no right to accuse me of wrong doing." Yimang was on the verge of hysteria at this point. Either he could die by this man's hand, which wasn’t likely, die by the rebels, or die by his own "allies" when they realized he was still alive. But as Yimang looked at the man in front of him, charging at him, he actually believed what he had said, for the man looked honest, humble even; qualities he had not seen in a long time. He thought about these things as he knocked the man down repeatedly. When he grew tired of hitting him, he stepped forward and delivered a swift jab to the man's stomach. James fell, this time not able to stand. Yimang then paced back and forth, pondering weather or not to kill him. Wondering if it was possible to redeem himself somehow. Redemption. The word had not crossed his mind for some time now. The thought of it made him want to roll over and die. Redemption had been beyond his reach for some time now. "But, revenge isn't," he mumbled to himself and looked at the man on the floor. At that moment Yimang decided he would have his revenge, for what it was worth. Revenge on the two-faced bastards who were ready to stab him in the back at the drop of a hat. The men who had cursed him with his horrid title no man should be forced to carry. Yimang then went to the young man, still awake to his surprise, and, pointing to himself simply mumbled "Yimang Wang." Then asked, looking at the man "And you are?”. "Go to hell," the man replied. Yimang simply turned and left. "Tomorrow," he thought "Tomorrow he'll find me, and fight me. He'll fight me until he's killed me, until he's invincible," then he smiled "A single, normal human with the power to change the world. Now who sounds like an idiot?" He continued walking until he found a nice, flat place to sit and went to sleep. Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 06-15-2009 at 04:27 AM. |
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| | #4 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P4 When James awoke, the empty rage inside of him was not the only feeling he had anymore. He remembered the reason for his anger, how his wife had died, and how he had left his dying son to go chase murders; as if they were more important. The tears came without warning. He cried until he couldn't anymore, and once again, rage filled his soul. It was the only way the man knew to dull the throbbing, painful sadness in his heart, though he knew the blame fell just as heavily upon his cursed soul. James followed the trail the other man, Yimang, had taken and eventually found him once again, picking up vegetables and drinking pond water which had been dragged down by the earthquake. "You Bastard," was all James would say as he continued to charge the man who seemed to avoid him effortlessly and who's fists seemed like hammers. His strength was inhuman. But nonetheless, he would try again and again everyday. Each day, he would get a little faster, a little stronger, become able to take a few more hits. It was a seemingly endless cycle, as both men showed no sign of relenting. When he would almost land a blow, Yimang would become even faster and stronger. Soon began using an army knife. He would not hesitate to injure him, though missing any vital organs. It angered James greatly to think that his enemy was not taking him seriously. Still, James continued to fight with his opponent. He had nowhere else to go. He couldn't return to where his house was after what had happened and what he had done. He would never be able to forgive himself, nor would anyone else on this earth. So, he continued to fight out of desperation, despair, and a two sided hatred. As the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, James had become skilled in combat with and without weapons, for his wooden stick had broken some time ago and he had not seen a suitable one since. He had also become accustomed to the harsh environment, for the heat of the day alone could kill a man at noon time, and the frosted winter air was always strong as it sifted throughout the canyon. He had also learned a bit of climbing while trying to escape the freshly made canyon's loose dirt and rock walls, which he quickly realized was pointless. With intense fighting behind him, and what could turn out to be his own personal casket to his left and right, James had only one way to go. Even if he had another way to escape the canyon though, he would not. His life at the moment was himself, the canyon, and Yimang. Anything else would be too much for the man to bear. He stayed true to this fact time and time again, as he would turn from the path leading back to the surface of the city, lured by the prospect of confrontation and repelled by his self-condemnation. "That bastard's probably off hidden somewhere, the coward," James would say to himself as he searched. Just a few days earlier he had done something unexpected by both men. He landed a strong blow to Yimang's stomach just before he was knocked out. It gave him the first ounce of joy he had known since his family had been murdered. But almost instantly, his joy led to guilt, guilt to sorrow, and sorrow to anger. With that, James continued to follow his enemy with an intense vengeance. Just before nightfall, James stumbled upon Yimang near the end of the canyon, sitting with his shirt off on one of the jagged gray rocks. As he approached Yimang, there was no movement from the man. When he was close enough to see his enemy's face, he also noticed the large, dark area of skin on his torso. At first he had thought it was his handy work but, as he looked more closely he found it to be something entirely different from a simple bruise and nothing he had the power to inflict. Yimang was bleeding from the inside and had been for some time now apparently. It was clear the man was dying but even so, James had no sympathy. "Your a fool if you think you could do any better," Yimang coughed out. Each word carried a significant amount of blood with it. Before James could counter Yimang asked again "Your...Name?” "James," he said out of pity, for now that his enemy was dying his anger was no longer controlling his actions. "I'll save you a spot in Hell," Yimang said, in an almost friendly voice. By this point, his frame had become limp and he began to hunch over. His strong build had lost its youth and vigor. His body was now beginning to look its age. "You're wrong," James said calmly as he looked at the man in front of him, "I'm different than you," As James began to turn, Yimang grabbed his arm with one hand and gave him a bag with the other. James wanted to ask him "What the hell is this?" but the man had already passed on, his eyes glazed over in the quiet darkness of night. "A place for me in hell!" James snorted, "Who does that bastard think he is?” As he continued to move in the only direction he could really go, he noticed that the ground began to slope upwards. The loose dirt also began to harden and the rocks became fewer and fewer in number as he kept moving forward. Soon enough, he was on the surface near the city of San Andreas. "About time," was all he mumbled to himself. He then began to approach the city, though he had nowhere in it to belong anymore. As he passed by the crooked "Welcome to San Andreas" sign, he became aware that there was no one else around him. He had become accustomed to his solitude down in what was now the canyon, but for no one to be around the city was a different thing entirely. He knew something was wrong here. Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 06-15-2009 at 04:28 AM. |
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| | #5 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | CHAPTER 2: Fate’s Challenge (P1) General Antoine Burton was enjoying his new found power as commander of the UN forces stationed in the San Andreas area. As he casually strolled above the small canyon that had appeared in the blink of an eye, he watched his men search the grounds tirelessly for whatever was left of Ensign Yimang Wang. "Have you found him yet?!" He would ask the soldier in charge of communications over and over again. "Not yet sir. It may be a while before we can finish searching the entire canyon", the soldier would say time and time again. In their minds he was irritatingly childish with his behavior, but anything was better than a blood thirsty homicidal maniac. Just then, a communication burst through the radio saying "We've found him! We've found the body sir!".”Well then, take me to him at once", General Burton exclaimed. The soldiers obeyed and led the General to the far side of the canyon where Yimang's was lying. "The poor sap almost made it out", the General said on the verge of laughter. But he held in his glee for fear that it would unsettle his subordinates. Every high ranking officer in the UN had despised Yimang's care-free attitude; how he could do anything he pleased, regardless of orders, and no reprimands would be sent his way. As he looked at the man hunched over on the warm gray rocks, he noticed that Yimang was wearing very little equipment. The orders issued to the General were to recover Yimang and the intelligence material he was sure to have on him. One of the reasons Yimang was such a dangerous man to the UN was that he always recorded any information he was sent or that he discovered and kept it on him at all times. This was a well known fact known by the higher ups, and because of this, Yimang was always suspected as a traitor along with his title as the most dangerous man alive. This had frightened them constantly and would continue to until the threatening information was destroyed. "Even when he's dead he’s still a pain to deal with", the General mumbled to himself. "How dangerous can a few papers be?" the General said aloud, followed by "You there. Send a message to the capital confirming the completion of the operation", to a nearby communications operator. "Yes sir. Right away", the man replied, and with that, the General felt he could relax and pull out of such a dangerous area. His actions would prove to be quite costly in the near future. James' suspicions about his current situation were correct. When he first realized there were no people to be seen anywhere near the city, he quickly scurried to his hidden storage shed on the outskirts of town. This was where he had hidden the little food that he could manage for his family. It brought back the forgotten memories of how he had used to take his son inside after the midday heat had subsided. It brought back the feeling of pride he felt watching the boy awe in wonder at all of the food there was, though it was only a fraction of what he had actually grown, and how he would love to hang on the wooden support beams near the ceiling. It also frustrated him to think that Yimang had been right about him from the start. He had let people walk over him all of his life. The government, the rebel factions, neither of them had the right to take his food and leave his family to fend for themselves. "Never again", he said aloud, "I will never...” James became silent at once, for in the distance there were lights slowly inching around to his shed. As he peered further out, he found more and more lights, each being held tightly by a soldier. James panicked. Instead of running out of the shed before the men arrived, he hid himself among the storage bags and crouched. By the time he had realized his mistake, the men were already too close to the shed for him to escape. James considered his options as two men entered the shed. He could take them by surprise, but if they were UN soldiers, they would already be on guard in such hostile territory. If they were from a rebel faction, he would be hunted down by the faction and run out of town at best, dead at worst. As he pondered on these thoughts he heard one of the men say "Et-vous? Est-ce-que vous aimiez les verres?” pointing at one of his storage bags. "They're French, or Spanish, or German, or whatever. All I know is that they aren't from around here", James thought to himself. Surrender was not an option now. The UN was well known for its merciless attitude towards prisoners. They flaunted their almost one hundred percent execution rate as proof to their resolve towards eliminating terrorism on the Earth. Their plan however, backfired when they started executing the weak and elderly along with children and adolescents alike. Thinking about all of the torment he and others like him must have gone through drove James to the point where he was slowly inching towards the men, preparing to strike with just as much mercy as they would have shown him. To his surprise however, the men received a transmission. “Any activity on your end?” the voice in the radio asked. “No one around here”, the man closest to him said, and started returning to wherever it was they had come from. “He didn’t even check…” James thought to himself, wondering why he was getting so angry when his life had just been spared. When they had left, James began filling a sac with various fruits and vegetables. He realized, like the rest of the city must have, that it would be best to stay inside the city to avoid suspicion. As James turned to leave the shed, he froze in his tracks. A voice was at the corner of the door, only a few inches away. "Those slobs. Figures they'd leave the door open" a soldier said as he rounded the corner. For an instant, their eyes met. Both men moved at one. The soldier drawing his gun and James, weaponless for some time now, charging his enemy. Compared to his former opponent, the soldier was slow, terribly slow. Before the soldier had even reached his weapon, he felt the shock of James' fist in his gut. With a groan, the man toppled over, landing face first in the large sandy coastline. In the confusion, the bag James had been given had dropped into the sand at his feet. He was now faced with three immediate choices. He pondered for a short period of time whether gloating, binding his captive, or taking a peek into the newly acquired bag, was the most important of the three, and in the end, his curiosity got the better of him. After poking the unconscious man several times with a nearby twig to reassure himself of the man's condition, he quickly opened the bag like any overgrown child would to a new toy. His disappointment was severe upon finding only a knife, a book regarding the UN’s presence in the IPC, and a CP disk. Gloomily, he changed clothes with and bound his captive. Then, not feeling up to a victory dance, left the shed in the disguise of an everyday UN soldier. “Nothin’ to suspect from me. Just your common everyday murder” James mumbled to himself as he passed by various guards and patrol squads, making sure not to get too close in case they asked him for any identification. Upon entering the city, James discarded the uniform and began to head towards his storage area located near San Andreas’ southern district. James loathed the southern district, known for its immoral activity and violent gangs. The IPC government had “traded” him the small, one room building in return for the half of his harvest they helped themselves to every year. The problem was, with no crops to store, what was the point of having another storage area. He didn’t voice his opinion however, for the government would just revoke the property while continuing to pilfer his goods. Please comment or critique if you want at Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 02-22-2009 at 02:18 AM. |
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| | #6 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P2 James continued to walk down the dirty, sand covered road leading to his second shed. As he did, he noticed that many of the old, run down buildings in the area had become even more damaged in various ways, some of which were not even standing by themselves anymore, but leaning on the surrounding buildings. The recent earthquake was most likely to blame for this. The dead and the wounded left for dead were laid out in the street to be looted, harassed, and even eaten by the truly desperate. It was a gruesome sight to witness. James shielded his eyes from reality as he walked down the brick step which led to his temporary hideout. Oddly, the key he had hidden in between the cracked bricks of the foundation was missing, and when he tested the door, he found that it was unlocked. Holding the knife under his left hand, he slowly entered the building. “James!” a voice from the shadows exclaimed. James, almost stabbing the intruder out of instinct, was surprised to see Margrette, his former neighbor, standing in front of him. Even then, he almost stabbed her anyway, for the whinny, stuck up, busybody Margrette was the kind of person most agreed, would be better off dead anyway. “Margrette” James said in acknowledgment of her existence. “My goodness!” Margrette started, “You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’ve gone through the past two months. Those brutes invaded my house, and all of a sudden, men were yellin’ an’ screamin’ about one thing or another. Tellin’ me to get outta my own house! Can you believe that? Well, of course I told those good for nothin’ hounds to shoe on off, but they kep’ pushin’ an’ screamin’ at me till my mind was about to shoot through the roof”. The small, brazen woman kept on with her story while constantly flailing her dark red hair to and fro in a fidgeting rage. James had stopped listening to her story almost before it had begun. He was familiar with her manner of speech, giving a nod here and there out of habit. As she continued, however, he jumped to attention at the mention of his son’s name. “What did you just say woman! Tell me!” he screamed repeatedly, shaking her so hard she almost fainted. “I said I didn’t expect you to be commin’ back, seein’ as how those screamers stole off wit’ your son like they did” she said, alarmed by his sudden ferocity. James did not know how to react at this news. He was grateful his son was alive, but he had been taken, and by the worst of people as well. Screamers were a nickname given to the UN aid givers in the area. Whenever a conflict would start that involved the UN, the aid givers would arrive soon after. Though they would call themselves such, their only objectives were to capture and experiment on those affected by the leftover radiation from over a century ago. They would completely ignore those in need, closely watching various people for signs of abnormalities. When a person with such traits was found, he would be kidnapped in the dark of night by what appeared to be a rowdy band of screaming bandits, though everyone in the area knew the reality of the situation. Those captured would be taken, some say to research centers, never to be seen again. The option of doing nothing did not even cross his mind. James was once again, consumed with many burning hatreds. Towards himself, the UN, and that man, the one who was waiting for him in Hades. He would not lose to himself though, and definitely not to Yimang, or anyone in the UN for that matter. Not when his life was on the line and sure as hell not when it came to his son. He was going to rescue him. He had to. “Margrette, which direction from my house did they take my son? Do you remember?” he asked forcefully. “I…..I…..don’t remember” she said, after thinking for some time, “It all happened so fast”. James began looking for information in the book and loose papers he had been given. The maps were too vague, and most of the information was in code, but in the later portions of the book were records of transactions made from inside the IPC by the UN. There were large amounts of money and material being shipped to both New San Francisco and Las Vegas. “If they wanted to traffic humans, they would want a location closer to the sea”, he thought, marking the location for New San Francisco with his index finger. He also noticed that each transaction had an IPC register card number underneath. IPC register cards were credit lines given to the UN’s flunkies who sided with them and contributed a significant amount of funds. They were also used as kinds of passports for various activities and locations around the IPC. He had found this out through his frequent “run ins” with local rebel factions. They would talk about where to go and who to see to make and sell the best forgeries. He would have to acquire one somehow to increase his chances of success. James stayed the night at the shed, also allowing his former neighbor to stay as well, for he would be leaving in the morning and it would be better for her to stay there than one of the grave robbing animals outside. The next morning was humid, but cool enough to endure it. “Looks ok to travel I guess” said James in vain, for he knew that Margrette would not be listening anyway. And with that, James formulated his plans as he began his journey to New San Francisco in order to find and rescue his son. His trial on the tightrope of life and death was not to be ended so soon. Please comment or critique if you want at Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 02-24-2009 at 10:39 PM. |
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| | #8 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | Chapter 3: Oliver (P1) "Genius! When it comes to master plans, no man on this earth can compare to my mental prowess. I must admit, even I was impressed by myself this time" James gloated aloud as he boarded the train from San Andreas to New San Francisco. The platform itself was small, and the gloomily brown elevated platform was rusted and lopsided. The incoming train however, was an incredible sight to behold and could be seen miles away from the station. The Inter-Pacific line traveled all the way from Hawaii, through the IPC, until it reached Japan. Over a quarter of a kilometer long and eighty meters wide, the train itself was a glimmering silver that shined to the heavens themselves. James couldn't have cared less about the incoming train, and would have completely ignored it had he not just remembered it was the only reason he was there. The creepily ecstatic grin on his face as he boarded the train almost seemed to outshine it entirely, and only further estranged him from the other passengers. He had apparently just figured out a fool proof rescue operation plan. So fool proof in fact, that for the rest of the ride James allowed himself some time to rest on a vacant row of seats which oddly enough, seemed to have gathered around him. Like most other "coincidences" however, he did not give the issue much thought. As, the hours passed, James grew restless and began to pace, staring out of the large, spacious window near his seat. "Look, Mommy, a dear!" a small boy shouted as the train neared the beach front area. The whole passenger crew on the beach side turned to view, for there was little wildlife in the IPC, let alone the world to begin with, and a deer was a rare sight to behold nowadays. The train reduced speed to curve away from the ocean, giving the crowd a better view of the animal. It was bleeding on its right side and frantically running towards the shore. The men trailing it could be seen shortly afterwards in close proximity, struggling to keep up. Once their feet hit the sand layering the beach however, they stopped in their tracks as if halted by an incredible force. "At least those hooligans 'ave got some sense in 'em", an old man said. "That poor thing", a woman whispered. The young boy grew tense and shouted "Run away deer! Get back, Run!” The deer, being a deer, did not heed the boy's warning and ran further and further towards the sea. As if on cue, an arm shot from the ocean and quickly retracted, dragging the deer with it. One man had tried to take a picture, but by the time he had pressed the button on his camera, there was nothing but what seemed to be moving sand in his gallery. Only a few individuals remained at the windows to watch the sea become blood and mangled deer chunks. No one who valued their life had approached the ocean in the past thirty years, just after the Trans-Atlantic and Inter-Pacific railways had been completed in 2074. During the 60's, the radiation from the terrorist attack had found its way to the depths of the sea, wiping out the majority of the smaller marine life. At that time, the shallow shorelines prevented the larger predators from seeking food closer to, or even on the coast. During the fifth Great Wave however, the most recent series of apocalyptic earthquakes plaguing the world, most of what was left of the coastline around the world had sank into the sea, leaving the creatures of the ocean an invitation to join the chaos of the surface. By the late 70's, the predators had done just that, the large moving to the shore to ambush the land dwellers and the even larger coming up from the depths of the ocean to feed on them. Small vessels and military carriers alike, none were immune to the onslaught of the sea making travel by boat a thing of the past weather man accepted it or not. High-speed transport, like the railway systems were unaffected for the most part, though the occasional giant squid or such on the rails would derail the whole train into the ocean every so often. Life was hard as it was, without the extra risk of becoming fish food every time you left the country, so the majority of the travelers took aircraft when affordable. In James' case, he was traveling by land, so he had nothing to fear in terms of giant monsters, but even if he did have to travel by sea he was far too poor to afford even the simplest of aircraft tickets. He took about eighty euros from his stash at the storage, not even a quarter of what a ticket would cost, not to mention he would have to eat sooner or later. "I'd joke about being poor if I weren't so freaking...Poor", he moaned to himself, now depressed and bitter. The young boy who had been watching the window earlier just stared at the man. To him, as well as everyone else on the train, the man was insane. From screaming aloud, to eerie self praise, to creepy grins, straight to falling asleep, to pacing, and eventually to utter despair. What was at first amusing to watch, was now somewhat disturbing to most of the passengers. As the train began to halt, the passengers, young boy included, eagerly crowded at the doors, ready to put the images of the disturbed man behind them and continue with their lives. James also waited eagerly for the doors to open, but for a different, more important reason. Please comment Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 02-20-2009 at 12:58 AM. |
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| | #9 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P2 Trevor Cinders, lounged on top of a plundered UN supply crate, was in deep thought. He was by no means a rebel in his own eyes, nor was he a ruffian, scoundrel, or gangster, as those around New San Francisco would call him. "If people would take a second and..." he stopped thinking about the "if" almost as soon as he had begun. It only frustrated him. People would never realize the purpose Libira served until they had suffered first hand, by the murderous forces of the UN. That was just the way things were. That was the way almost everyone in Libira had joined, and that was why they were the largest rebel organization in the Northern Hemisphere. Being such a large organization however, did have its drawbacks. All he had done since he had joined the organization was sit, lounge, and sometimes lay around. He joined to make a difference, not to be dead weight. That was why he would sit by the phone terminal for hours, hoping for something to happen. When it finally did ring, he was both surprised and disappointed to hear James on the line, but was immediately interested once again with the information the man was giving him. "Make sure you're there when I get to the gates. I don't wanna get shot 'cause of you", James said to him and hung up. As Trevor walked towards the entrance gates of the base, a large upscale estate, he wondered about the current situation. He and James had been friends some time ago, but he had chosen to join Libira and James a simple farmer when they had both completed high school. They met every now and again, but only when the rebel factions made rounds around the cities, forcefully collecting food and other goods from the people. "How the hecks a dirt farmer like him supposed to get any information?" He said to a bird perched on the wall beside him. The bird chirped, turned, and flew a short distance to the next building. "Don't know either then, huh?" he said, and continued to wait. When Trevor saw his old friend in the distance, he ran to greet him, almost dragging him back to the estate to make his report. "Long time no see. No time for a reunion now, we need that info you got for us pal. Right this way, hurry now" The wave of comments didn't give James much of a chance to do anything, let alone reply as they entered the headquarters. Upon entering the gates, James was in awe at his surroundings. The building being used as a headquarters for the rebels in New San Francisco was an enormous mansion. Its white walls were made of finely polished granite and marble, and the hallways seemed to go on forever. As he continued down the path instructed however, the hall became narrow and steeped downwards. More guards closed in on them from all sides, as if he were the enemy. The walls became rough, uneven brick and there were large crates placed every now and then. When they had reached their destination, the situation seemed to have changed for the worse, as far as James could tell. The floor was now dirt, the walls no more than rock, and the lighting was sparse and dim. "Trevor, please tell me this isn't what I think they think this is" James said, motioning towards the approaching guards. "What the hell is this? Who brought this man here?" a voice from behind the men boomed. The men stopped instantly, stepping aside as the owner of the broad, powerful voice came into view. He was a large man, over six feet tall with light skin and a blond ponytail. His fine tailored red suit, though odd, seemed to give him an elevated presence when compared to the others in the room. James was beginning to think his plan had been flawed somewhere along the way. He had a connection with the faction through Trevor, and found the headquarters through word of mouth on the street, but these people were a lot more hostile towards newcomers than he had anticipated. "Come 'ere, Trevs!", ordered the man in a snappish tone. Trevor, unable to speak, dragged his feet towards him. Soon, Trevor and the man were only inches apart. The difference between the two could be seen clearly then. Trevor was stronger than most his age, nearing six feet tall with a muscular build covering his tanned skin. Compared to the man in front of him however, he was a toothpick. Trevor was almost shaking to the point where his legs would not support him, but somehow, he managed the willpower to open his mouth and speak. "Abes man, it's OK. This guys just a friend of mine 'ere with some inf...” Trevor had begun, but his speech had suddenly stopped. It took James a while to notice the man had stopped Trevs with his fist, as it was buried in his poor friend’s side. The giant of a man, apparently named Abes, then left Trevor, who collapsed shortly, and focused his attention on James. "Search him", he ordered the men beside him, as they closed in, pushing James to the wall. James had left the information book and the money at the station for safe keeping, but still he had the strangest sensation that he'd forgotten something. "There's something here", A shorter, chubby guard exclaimed, pulling a CP disk from his back pocket. "Crap", James mumbled, just now remembering the disk he had gotten from Yimang's bag earlier. "What the hell's this?" Abes asked. "Well, it looks like a disk to me", James answered. "I know that you little smartass!" the man retorted, "I want to know what’s on it". James could tell he was about to snap, but he didn't really care. "Hell if I know", James replied with a shrug, "I came here to propose an arrangement, not to play twenty questions with you thugs". The men moved closer. Though their intent was clear, James just stared at them, as if he was oblivious to the whole ordeal. Please Comment Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 02-20-2009 at 12:58 AM. |
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| | #10 (permalink) |
| Bélias Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: Alpharetta, GA Age: 17
Posts: 201
Rep Power: 40 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | P3 Mitchell Rolands was becoming increasingly irritated with his current job as commander of the Libira forces in New San-Fran. His subordinates were among the most rowdy punks and tough guys in the city. It seemed everyday there was another… "Fight!" a young man yelled as he bolted down the hallway, "Abes is pickin' on Trevs an' some new guy. Trevs is already down but that new guy is somethin' else!" Once again, Mitchell found himself called into action. With nothing but in fighting day in and day out, he felt like a grade school teacher, breaking up senseless quarrels time after time again. As he entered the underground passage, brushing by countless bystanders, he could hear the fight below him. “Grab him! Over there!” a voice clamored. “Hold’em still, no! Don’t let him get away!” another said. When Mitchell arrived at the base of the steps, he was quite surprised at what he saw. The scene wasn’t so much a fight as it was a game of tag. Abes and his crew would grab at a man who seemingly slipped through their fingers time and time again. It took Mitchell a while to remember his purpose, and upon doing so stepped in to intervene. “Break it up guys. This isn’t a fight club” he barked, “You, why are you here” he then said, looking at James. James, wrestling from underneath his opponents to stand, dusted himself off as he regained his composure. “Morning to you, good sir” James started “As I was trying to say before I was brutally assaulted {Pointing to the men behind him}, I would like to arrange a deal concerning human enhancement technology” At this point, everyone in the room was silent. Human enhancing resources were only found in high security UN facilities. “I hope you know what you’re talkin’ about. You wont find things like that in your everyday guard post” Abes snorted, slowly rising from the spot where he had tripped. “What proof do you have to support this?” Mitchell asked, now quite interested in the man. “Large scale transactions, elevated uses of IPC register cards, and other sources I don’t need to mention all pointed to the UN transportation factory on the northern cliffs of the city being used for more than just raw metals. The truth actually was that the UN was and still is using the facility for human researching. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice any of these things earlier” James said calmly. The truth was he only knew about the transactions and register cards, the rest he had simply made up as he went along. The information he did have was from an unknown source as well. This was a lie that James knew he might never walk away from, but he had to find his son by any means necessary. He showed no sign of uncertainty as he stood in front of the rebels though. The slightest sign of fear in his voice, the faintest of panting, even the twitching of his hand could give him away. The man in charge seemed to believe him though, nodding every so often while he had explained the situation. “Ok”, the man facing James said “I understand you have information regarding some potential goods, but what do you expect to gain from it?” “If you must know,” James started, feeling as if he had nothing to fear from telling the truth now “I need to find my son. He was one of the affected taken by the UN during the raid on San Andreas around five months back.” Once he had said this, the atmosphere in the room seemed to relax. He was surprised they had trusted him so far, but upon pondering for a while, realized that most of the people here had probably been in similar situations. “Before we act on this in any way, we need to know how you got this information. You don’t look like you’re used to this kind of work and we need to take every precaution we can to avoid being betrayed” Mitchell said, now almost certain of his alignment. “I picked an informative book and this disk off of a high ranking UN officer in San Andreas. He had died in the earthquake” James said, holding the disk that had recently been the center of attention up into the air. “And no, I don’t know what’s on it yet.” James snapped at Abes, who was sitting on a crate not so far away. Abes simply shrugged, looking at Mitchell for a verdict on the situation. Mitchell looked at James, the crowd surrounding him, then back to James. He then smiled, saying “I, Mitchell Rolands, commander of the northern IPC resistance Libira force, temporarily accept you… um…” Mitchell started, forgetting he did not know the man’s name. “James Marcus” James said with a smile. “Yes of course” Mitchell replied, somewhat embarrassed that he had been so foolish, “James Marcus into our ranks until this mission is accomplished.” James felt sort of odd about the way Mitchell had answered, but at least they weren’t going to kill him. “Thank you…” James half heartedly replied. The rest of the day was spent waking up Trevor, who had passed out when assaulted by Abes, and having him introduce James to some of the Libira forces soldiers. The names were not ones worth remembering to James, except a woman by the name of Karla, who somehow managed the word “Like” into everything she said. Later in the day however, it was agreed that Trevor, Abes, James, and a man named Bates would go to the Town Information Center to see the contents of the CP disk. The general idea was that, since it was found with the book, it might have vital information regarding UN operations in the area. James did not argue about the subject, for he now wanted to see the contents of the disk himself. Trevor on the other hand, seemed to dislike the idea of traveling with Abes, and Abes apparently did not like the idea of traveling with anyone. These facts were obvious as, during the entire way from the HQ to the transit station and from the station to the Information Center, the journey was a silent one. Trevor would glare towards Abes, who would then glare at the surrounding populous, making it an uncomfortable ride for everyone. Upon arriving at the Information Center, things weren’t much better. There were crowds of people everywhere making the building quite.... crowded. “As to be expected in a place like this” the quiet but serious Bates said as they entered the building. The information Centers of the IPC, and the world were busy places. This was because they were the only places with Internet access, let alone computers, after the mass destruction that had happened and was still happening due to the nuclear holocaust, one hundred years ago. Please Comment Destiny: Prologue to Destiny crit Last edited by sawreese; 02-20-2009 at 12:59 AM. |
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