[color=9ec5e2]"One o' clock. High. Wind from nine to six. Adjust for elevation, fire when ready."[/color] [b][h3]9:55 AM[/h3][sub][sub]BANG[/sub][/sub][/b] [color=9ec5e2]"Another. Twelve o' clock. Straight ahead. Winds are the same."[/color] [b][h3]Grid Pos DG 5-9-A Somewhere within Free[/h3]                          [sub][sub]BANG[/sub][/sub][/b] [color=9ec5e2]"Two more. Ten o' clock. Low. Winds nominal. Fire when ready."[/color] [b][h3]13th February, 2014[/h3]                                    [sub][sub]BANG BANG[/sub][/sub][/b] [color=9ec5e2]"You got 'em. Let's pack up and head for the next pos."[/color] The sniper perched atop the water tower nodded, seemingly to himself, and stood from his prone position, folding the attached bipod of his rifle as he gave the area a once over. The bloated infected he'd shot lay dead, bleeding thick, black blood from where they laid, sprawled on the rooftops and streets. The big ones were vessels for infection, he'd learned, and now he knew to take them out quickly whenever he had the chance. What little people remained here depended on it. The bloats spreaded their disease by puking the contents of their digestive system into water supplies, buildings, sewer systems, wherever they knew survivors were camped in. The infection grew airborne after the disgusting liquid contents evaporated, and it spread through the air soon after. Once a building was contaminated by a Bloat, it had to be written off as 100% infected. No one could be saved, not even those suffering only from the initial stages. Sighing to himself in mild relief, he stowed his rifle on his back and climbed down the ladder that led to solid ground. As he did so, a voice piped up from his leg. [color=c79dd7]"What's up boss? You've been out of it for ages."[/color] The man sighed. [b]"It's...just all of this, Barr. I'm stuck here doing jack shit while the rest of the team's missing. I don't even know where they are. I want to go find them but they won't let me."[/b] [color=c79dd7]"No one's stopping you from goin' lookin', boss."[/color] As the man opened the roof access door of the apartment building and walked downstairs, he shrugged. [b]"Yeah except I don't know where to look. Our comms don't work in this damn place and I can't sense them anywhere in this part of the city."[/b] [color=9ec5e2]"But at least you're trying, aye boss?"[/color] [b]"Yeah, I guess."[/b] Cho entered into a hallway, decorated with the corpses of the infected. Bullet holes peppered the walls, and dark pools of shadowy sludge covered the floor and ceiling. He stepped gingerly through the corpses and one groaned to life as it swiped weakly for his ankle, an action he ended by filling the offending infected with more lead from his submachine gun. He sighed and kept walking, making his way to the stairwell to head down to street level. Wherever he went, corpses were present, scattered about the floor, some splattered against the walls, others drawn into pools of darkness all about the place. He ignored the mess and gore as he moved downward, eventually reaching the ground floor where more corpses were strewn about, but also where two more soldiers were waiting for him. The generic SWORD soldiers, armed with shotguns and clear ballistic shields, greeted him with nods as he rejoined them. The two were part of his recon squad; he'd originally insisted he work alone, but Kalas has also insisted, with a grand fervour, that he have some men with him in case something happened. So far, nothing. The men were weary, he knew; as much as the action was okay and all, he knew they wanted to be back behind the containment wall where it was safe, which suited him just fine. He'd rather operate alone, which he had mostly been doing for the past few days. Kalas had given him free reign to operate within the Free section, with the obvious mission of "kill everything you see", and so far it was going well, barring the fact that the soldiers with him had to endure not sleeping in a proper bunk bed for the three or so days they'd been out. Granted they had been sleeping in bedrooms they'd found, but the thought of sleeping in a possible dead person's bed didn't sit well with the other guys. Cho didn't mind; he was already dead to begin with. This was day four, their last day, and they'd started out by clearing a whole apartment block, which was where they were departing from. They were to head for their next and final pos, after which they were scheduled to head back into Casual to debrief and rearm. He greeted the soldiers in kind as he met them and they fell in step next to him. "Boss, we got instructions from on high: finish up here, then head home." Cho nodded. [b]"According to the plan. Good. Take point. I need to check ammo."[/b] The two soldiers moved on ahead as he hung back to check his gear. As they did so, the two pairs of eyes on his submachine gun opened again and looked around before it stared up at him. [color=25a8ba]"Are they gone?"[/color] Cho sighed and nodded to the gun that laid on his chest, eliciting a happy growl as it bounced gently against his tactical vest. [color=25a8ba]"Good! I hate strangers. I don't trust them at all!"[/color] [b]"Your mistrust of strangers isn't going to help us here, Kris."[/b] [color=25a8ba]"But they're creepy!"[/color] [color=9ec5e2]"Oh Kris, everything's creepy to you except us."[/color] The voice that emanated from Cho's back sighed, and he knew that Tac, if he had a head, was shaking it in mild exasperation. His weapons were daemons, of course they could talk and think and such, but did they have to be so...quirky? [hr] [h3]Some time later... 11:32 AM Low-Casual[/h3] The Asian man sat atop a lawn chair, spread out on the roof of an apartment complex. Next to him laid his weapons and gear, spread out on several boxes and crates that he'd found lying around. Nearby, an empty cardboard pizza box lay discarded next to a glass bottle, drained of its contents. The meagre lunch did little to quell his spirits. After returning to Casual an hour after his mission was complete, he'd gone straight home. "Home", appropriately enough, was the rooftop and access stairwell of a rather unassuming apartment complex. Exposed to the open elements, it also provided a very clear sightline to the only checkpoint in and out of Casual; the very one that led to Free. Being dead, food and drink didn't affect him the same way it did regular people, and as such he never needed a toilet. A shower? That was what he really needed. He stunk of cordite and death, and the fact that he was already dead didn't help matters much. Cho sighed and sat up, hefting another bottle of beer in his hands as he took a swig. His teammates being missing still worried him immensely, a fact that Tac picked up on immediately as the plague demon sidled close. Out of his normal form as Cho's sniper rifle, Tac the plague demon was about half the size of the man. Tac himself was also not humanoid; sickly mottled patches of flesh adorned his body where he wasn't covered in pale blue scales, and his whole form was that of a six-legged canid-like creature, with three pairs of black eyes, a serrated blade-like tail and a long, barbed snout that ended in a mouth not unlike an anteater. He drew up next to Cho's chair and laid on the floor, noticing his boss' displeasure. [color=lightblue]"Still worried about 'em, boss?"[/color] Cho gave the demon an aside glance and sighed. [b]"Yeah. It's been a week, Tac. Surely Nataliya or Luis would have made contact by now."[/b] Tac gave a soft noise of worry as he looked up at the undead man. [color=lightblue]"You couldn't have done anything, boss. No one saw it coming."[/color] [b]"But we...I could've done something. Given them a tracker each, maybe. Now we're separated and not being able to confirm that they're alright just...ugh."[/b] [color=lightblue]"Don't worry so much, boss. They'll be fine. We'll find 'em, promise."[/color] Cho gave the demon a glance and a pat on the head. [b]"Yeah, I guess so, Tac. I guess so."[/b] [hr] [h3]One week earlier... 4:25 PM The skies above RPG City[/h3] [color=red]"Alright! Last call. Ammo check!"[/color] [b]"Check."[/b] [color=pink]"Check!"[/color] [color=gray]"Check."[/color] [color=red]"Gear!"[/color] [b]"All accounted for."[/b] [color=pink]"Fully loaded!"[/color] [color=gray]"Stocked and ready."[/color] [color=red]"Weapons!"[/color] The chorus of roars, snarls, screeches and howls rose high above the noise of the plane. The four people within did one final rundown of their kit while they waited for their plane to make its descent. As they did so, their pilot came up over the intercom. [color=black]"Reapers! Your mission is simple: this dimension requires an influx of the light! In lieu of the Angels being elsewhere, you four will suffice! Assist the city's inhabitants before they are consumed by the virulent darkness, and the multiverse will return to stability once more!"[/color] [color=red]"No [i]problemo[/i], boss!"[/color] [b]"Of course, sir."[/b] [color=pink]"[i]Hai! Wakarimashita![/i]"[/color] [color=gray]"[i]Da.[/i]"[/color] [color=black]"Good! We will touch down on the main airstrip in five minutes. Strap in and -"[/color] The voice was interrupted by a large, winged...[i]something[/i] tearing through the fuselage of the plane. The tearing of metal screeched way above the sounds of the out-rushing air, even as the monster that was prying their plane apart was shot to pieces by the man sitting at the front. As his machine gun hissed and spat fire, more of the beasts latched onto the plane and began tearing it to shreds. The four soldiers within turned their weapons onto the horde but it was too late, the plane spiraled downward as it fell apart in the air and the four Reapers and their pilot were ejected into the bitter, grim air. It was much later that Cho awoke on a street in High-Casual, having landed there after being unceremoniously hurled from his ride in. His teammates? Unknown. Their pilot? Unknown. Comms? Not functioning. Spirit sense? Too far away to tell. He was alone. But not helpless. Cho vowed, at that moment, to find his team and to reunite the Four Horsemen. And then, they'd rescue this world from its time of peril.