What's new
Frozen in Carbonite

Welcome to FiC! Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

GATE: and so the Iron Pact Fought

Well, in other news, I've been working on the next part of the chapter and trying to prototype a post via the PHO Interlude Generator.

One has Pina's thoughts and attempts to reconcile the matter at hand, and the other is basically a 'look' into the non-military, non-political side of things (i.e. the 'commoner' perspective)... with a surprising guest.
;)
;)

So, depending on how things go, it would be interesting...
 
So, a snippet for you guys, one that focuses on our favorite sane woman who is breaking herself under insane conditions...
_____________
Italica, Italica Province – 200km from Alnus Province; October 3rd, 6729

Piña was right to move to Italica, as several important keystones of the Empire's transportation network were focused on several cities in the region, and the message she received from a dragon messenger was troubling: Antioch Nova had fallen and Legate Hostus Murrius Niraemius had been killed without seeing his killer without the usual carnage that ensued. Pina knew Niraemius, and quite well as he was one of the legates that would tutor her in the ways of war when he wasn't off on campaign.

… and now the Empire lost one of its most prominent legates alongside one of its key junctions.

Then there were the reports of increased banditry that have been slowly getting closer and closer to Italica itself. The current lady -and her immediate regent- of Italica had already started working on setting up for a siege.

Then there were the reports of a Great Fire Dragon feeding across the countryside, a problem that is incredibly problematic at the best of times, let alone being on top of a rising banditry problem and an invasion from the Men in Green!

"My lady," Hamilton stated as she came into the war room of the keep, "We've just gotten more reports from all around the province." Hamilton simply handed Piña more reports. "It actually looks good for once. From what I've read, the Men in Green are slowing down…"

"… but that is only because they're allowing their engineers to rework the highways and build their own infrastructure," Piña frowned, "Once they start up again, they'll likely be fully supplied again. That would be the problem. Given how effective their weapons are, they'll probably be doing that work at such a speed that we might be just standing still." Hamilton sighed in disbelief, understanding Piña's assumptions and worries. "Why does this have to be so hard…"

"Piña," Hamilton replied, shaking Piña out of her stress-induced daze, "You're pushing yourself too hard, the Knights can't function if their leader is a tattered mess due to all the stress that she's putting herself under." Piña simply smiled at Hamilton, thanking Emoly for her level headedness and willingness to take action when Piña is basically destroying herself. "Just take the rest of the day off and I'll make sure we've got everything ready for tomorrow. If something were to happen now, we'll be practically leaderless."

"… I…" Piña started before rethinking about what she was about to say, "… I'm screwing everyone here over if I continue to act like this." Hamilton sighed in relief, as Piña wasn't going to be stubborn as a mule again. "The Order and Italica need me to be as fit as possible for the days ahead… and I can't do that running myself to death's door." Hamilton smiled as two of the praetorian guard escorted her to her temporary quarters.

"Now, let's get this over with," Hamilton muttered to herself as she took a look at the reports and the map before her…
______________________________________________
One of the things I hate about the original fic is how much of Pina's potential is wasted... but then again it shouldn't be surprising as it is written by someone with an immense nationalist streak (and, from what I experienced, the stronger the nationalist streak, the worse potential is wasted)...
 
Pina needs a vacation.All that stress cant be good for her. :p
Given that she is not only dealing with Roman politics but also Medieval politics (aka "The 'fun' Kind")... she isn't going to get a break anytime soon...
 
First, the next snippet is going to be something of a 'slice of life' in the POV of an elven lady of a multi-species town looking at the 'Men in Green' from the Iron Pact from the 'other side', which would include some problems that arise from having the war goes on...

... and I'm stealing a few creatures from the videogame series Majesty just to make things interesting. ;)

Second, I've gotten the itch to play Majesty again... so... yeah...
 
Ok, status update. First things first, I had to rewrite the current section twice already because I didn't like how it flowed and read (first one was another Imperial viewpoint, the second was a villager's viewpoint on the Iron Pact!Americans that became the garrison of the village and had a historian try to describe the air battles of the First World War and the Red Baron to pre-industrial fantasy citizens, right now it is taking place in the rapidly growing town of Alnus Town). Two, I'm fighting this stupid head cold thing and I'm hating it. Third, I might be going crazy because the world just kept getting crazier. Fourth, I might take a short break to work on my XCOM/MLP:FiM or another project more just to get out of the funk I've been having.
 
Here is part of a snippet that leads to the mind of someone who is part of the Empire but is 'looking in' as it were:

)___________________________________(
Bert, Tetsui, and Hans International Bar and Grill – Alnus Town; a few minutes later

The immense floor that was the bar and grill was packed with patrons and the air was filled with the smells of barbecue, alcohol, and food. It was… peculiar… to Itami that the establishment fit so well into the medieval style structure, and to see it so lively was a bit surprising.

"Ah, Kallus!" one the waiters exclaimed as the small group, "I see you've been assigned to Alnus town!" That was when Kallus's eyes widened in surprise.

"Samantha," Kallus exclaimed as he jogged towards the waiter and hugged her, "how did you get authorization to get to Falmart?" The waitress -Samantha, Itami reminded himself- returned the favor and hugged Kallus back.

"Eh, you know, the usual," Samantha answered with a smile, "being a former Hauptmann does have its perks. With the company following the soldiers to Falmart, they chose me to help get things running." Samantha quickly escorted us to a table, handing out the paper-thin tablets that served as menus. "Anything to drink before you make your order?"

Itami took a quick look at the drink section of the menu and was intrigued at the wide assortment of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages… and then sighted that a statement that the establishment also had an entertainment center. Itami quickly filed it in the back of his brain as he continued to look at the beverages…

_________________

Working at a Men in Green establishment was far different than what I was used to. Most non-humans in the empire tended to be relegated to work that is barely above slave work, but the Men in Green -from either Gate- are vastly different in that regard. If you have the talent and experience, you could get the job.

Being a wood elf, being a head chief was something that I never expected to become. Sure, I had to do some training in order to get the job, but once I got a handle on how the Men in Green handle things, I thrived. Right now, I'm on my lunch break and had decided to go into what the Men in Green termed 'the game room'.

What I saw there was… well… beyond words.

The entire room was filled with various machines designed to provide entertainment to a wide variety of patrons. The games inside weren't any sort of gambling -which was rather common in Imperial encampments- or at least what I was used to. Various 'TVs' and 'entertainment consoles' lined the far wall while the other was lined with various games that I never saw before. The center was filled with various table games that I've never seen before, some of which had ethereal images instead of figures.

It was a lot to take in, I had to admit.

I simply wandered around, trying to pick what I would try first. That was when I heard something unusual, leading me to one of the 'entertainment consoles'. A bunch of Men in Green from Alnus Hill were playing a game from Remus Hill, and are completely entranced by it.

"Welcome to Cologne kamaraden, for you are about to begin the greatest moment of your life. The Jackabins have lost hundreds of tanks and planes while Smith's brutalized hordes are climbing over mountains of their own dead bodies. The Kaiser, our glorious fatherland, have given us the task to ensure that the enemy doesn't reach the Rhine and defend the city of Cologne!"

I heard explosions in the background as images of fountains of water rose, the sounds of machines and weapons I could never imagine simply drowned the scene.

"Forward towards the unrelenting battle kamaraden! For Cologne, for the Fatherland, not one step back!"

The scene was horrifying to my eyes, an entire city -bigger than Saldera itself- burning. Numerous boats and barges floated across the massive river, escorted by armed boats armed with weapons that I couldn't recognize. One of the barges was ravaged by an explosion while several of the escorts were pummeled by what looked like outright magic.

"Do not count days, do not count kilometers, count only the number of revachists you have killed! Kill the revachists, this is your mother's prayer! Kill the Jackabin, this is the cry of your German earth! Never let up kamaraden! Kill! Death to the revachist invader!"

That was when I heard numerous replies outright repeating the last sentence. It was simply chilling to my ears. That was when one of the waiters -who was also from the Gate on Remus Hill- saw me simply mesmerized by the scene playing in front of me.

)______________________________________________________________(
So, yeah, I partially ripped of Call of Duty: Finest Hour for that, but that has always been an epic introduction to Stalingrad by many... and a similar one is used in the Iron Pact universe. Please tell me where I should improve right now because I'm running myself up the wall trying to get this down...
 
It's good. I honestly can't see how you can improve on it.
Better to ask and not get pummeled into the ground now than not and get pummeled into the ground... at least in my experience.
 
Just letting you guys know, my dad's dog has recently passed away (had to be put down) and I'm still trying to get used to life without him. This has, predictably, delayed my latest snippet immensely, especially with the scene and trying to ensure I give it justice (not-so-spoilers, it's the Siege of Cologne during the Great War of Resistance aka essentially Stalingrad, WW1 style).

I hope you guys can understand this.
 
Ok, is it just me, or did someone find reality's developer's console and made reality go crazy? I was getting some (slow) headway on getting this next part done when the riots started! Also, it is starting to become apparent that someone has been going into my chaotic brain and nicking ideas just to make reality look insane.

I am not happy. It does not make my muse easier to direct. It delays everything.

The snippet is shaping up to be something, odd, for me. Trying to make it not a gory mess while trying to keep it authentically Stalingrad-esque is... hard... to say the least. [sarcasm] Maybe I should start a Patreon and sell myself so I can get things done or something close to it. [/sarcasm] Still, one of the speeches that I've got is heavily influenced by the speeches made by General Sturnn and Castor of the Imperial Guard (seriously, the Imperial Guard has a lot of material for hold the line speeches)...
 
Ok, here is what I have so far for the Psi-memory section:

_____________________________________________

Fort Portal, Remus Hill; 22:00 Hours


The 'Iron Pact' is something that I'm still trying to understand, their reasons of existence, their politics, their goals…

… and understand the strangeness that is 'Hauptmann' Neumann.

This one man has kept defying what I know as logic. This man is different than anything I've ever encountered. Then there is this aura around him, making him even more of an enigma. Everyone in the castra has been incredibly tight lipped about Hauptmann Neumann. My -and the warrior bunnies that managed to smuggle themselves here- investigations kept hitting stone walls, a lot of this man's career is locked behind the term 'classified'. What little that the warrior bunnies and I could dig up show that he is an incredibly powerful shaman. Almost stupidly so. He is also an incredibly capable warrior, and either of these facts does not jive with his calm, simple, introverted demeanor. There is just something off about him. After we returned from 'Berlin', Rory had told me her fears. Few things got her afraid of someone, and this man is one of the few that did.

That was when I felt that reality got… bent… before I blacked out.

When my vision returned to me, I was in a small rowboat of some kind. The people around me were clad in uniforms that are far older than the ones I have seen, each one of them had grim looks on their faces. The rowers moved with almost mechanical precision.

I looked around and saw numerous other boats and barges crossing a great river. Most of which had more soldiers and some of them had older versions of what the 'Iron Pact' and the 'JSDF' are using studding them. That was when I saw the bodies floating in the water alongside wreckage.

What the fuck have I been dragged into?

"Kamaraden, I will not mince words with you, many of you will die," the man in the front -apparently an officer- stated plainly, "your deaths will not be glorious, your deaths will not be remembered in history, you will die in the ruins of the city of Cologne. You will be only remembered as a simple number, one among many. While that is going to be our fate, I will commend you for volunteering to help our beleaguered kamaraden in the city proper. While Command has deemed that falling to the river is the only safe option available to us, we must ensure that our retreat is organized and covered. Given the likeliness of being killed, command will only accept volunteers that know the full gravity of their choice. Our orders are to hold the line as much as possible to ensure that we deny the enemy supplies and weapons while ensuring our wounded are extracted to the safety of the defenses on the other bank."

The soldiers simply nod in acceptance, like if they knew full well what they were getting into.

The officer simply looked towards the shore, deep in thought. That was when I saw the other shore, littered with bodies and equipment. Men and women in a vastly different uniform with some sort of vest and a red cross on it scurried across the various groups, trying to ensure as many people survive as possible. There were even children trying their hardest to keep the medical supplies flowing. To be forced to use children in such roles, the manpower shortage must be catastrophic.

"Kamaraden, know this," the officer began, "while it warms my old heart, my soul, to see you volunteer despite cred or ideology, we are going to die. I am sending you where you will die. I am spending your lives and mine to ensure that our kamaraden will live. We will die, we will not be remembered as people, only as numbers. Yet, history will remember our actions today, for better or for worse. We will hold the line for as long as we can and make the enemy pay for every meter of land they take. That is what is expected of us…"

That was when the boat came into a dock.

"Boatmen prepare for non-critical casualties," the officer said, "you are no longer to haul soldiers to the frontline, you are to move as many casualties that can walk to safety. Is that clear?" The rowers simply nodded and prepared to help people onto the boat. The soldiers disembarked and I, unable to control myself, followed.

The line of waiting soldiers slowly moved towards the boat, moving only as fast as their child caretakers would let them. Each one suffering many wounds, barely able to walk towards the docks on their own, only to be sent to the other side of the river to safety. I slowly walked with the other able soldiers towards our battlefield. Along the way I saw how much damage this battle had wrought. Bodies still laid in the streets, their entrails littering the rubble like a sick sort of paint, buildings all but destroyed or simply annihilated to the point of being motes of dust. I have seen my fair share of horrific battlefields, but this is on a whole new level…

… and I was being force-marched to the front of it all.

The march was slow but brisk and it kept showing the horrific scars of this battlefield. That was when at the corner of my eye I noticed something out of place, something that didn't belong, but I ignored it as neared my forced destination. The officer quickly ordered us about, taking up positions along a badly done trench line between the various houses of the intersection. That was when I heard a battle cry that I never heard of in my life and men with turbans on their heads charging like madmen towards our position. My body fired my weapon, sending death downrange like a demented automatic high-powered crossbow. The men had chosen their path well, and it quickly devolved into brutal hand to hand combat.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that the officer had taken out a stubby shovel, using it as an impromptu sword. I saw another soldier stab one of the madmen with the knife at the end of his weapon before flipping it around and using it as a club. Soon I heard explosions from all directions and sometimes I saw the results. This combat went on for what felt like hours when it only took minutes… and that was when everything… stopped.

"Well, well, well, looks like Slick lost control a second time," a mysterious voice -attached to a fairly lanky-armed man of middling height- in the most unusual accent said, "although, I wouldn't blame him given the shit we've been through." I soon discovered that I could move by my own accord again, and I took this advantage to gain an explanation.

"What in Hardy's name is going on here!?!" I exclaimed, "Why am I forced to go through this?" The man simply shook his head.

"So, this is the first time through a psi-memory eh?" the man answered, "Oh, where are my manners, the name's Tony Delvecchio and right now I'm getting you out of here." I frowned at that last statement. Why is he so forceful of getting me out of this horror now? "That is if you want to become part of the scenery…" Wait… become part of

… ok, that has set all sorts of red flags in my brain. If there is a chance that I could become part of this 'psi-memory', then I need to get out of here…
_____________________________________________
One thing that I am not happy about is that it isn't complete and I think it is too quick and too sparse on the details. Still, it is better to post it now and ask for forgiveness than keep banging my head against it...
 
Last edited:
Ok, I've got three main ideas for the next snippet. One is some of the POWs watch a Baseball game and are intrigued, getting a soldier who has been assigned to POW watch duty forced to explain medieval Romans of what baseball is... while the Iron Pact soldiers start commenting that this is likely to be Japan all over again (fun fact when the US sent teachers to Japan in the 1870s, one of those teachers formally introduced baseball to his students and Japan went nuts with baseball... let's just say that Japan became just as baseball crazy -with their own quirks to boot- as the US for a time). The other idea is focused on a 'sound' mage investigating on what instruments both the US/Japan alliance and the Iron Pact has to offer... and proceeds to make both alliances go WTF in terms of musical ability (which would probably include an organ). The third idea is a priest/priestess from one of the conquered peoples of the Sadarian Empire raising an eyebrow both on the through atheism/monotheism/general disinterest with religion within the two alliances' ranks and the various chaplains assigned to the military units in said alliances despite said atheism/general disinterest with religion in the ranks.

Does anyone have a preference for any of these ideas?
 
An Omen Dismissed
So, while I was going through my notes and checking a few things, I came upon a Reddit post that had the title "*Before going through the Gate, the Saderan General orders the Augurs to seek the wisdom of the Chickens.* "General, what was the wisdom granted by the wise Chickens?" A young legionnaire asked. "Yes." The General lied. The rest is history" and showed this video:



Romans were superstitious to the extreme, only the Spartans were just as (if not more) superstitious. The Saderans, by contrast, would make both the Romans and Spartans look like they took superstition as a suggestion... and given Roman law, screwing with these holy chickens has steep punishments. So, a brain bug hit me and this happened... it is something of a side story really, an explanation of how things started...

(________________________________________________________________________)

Behind the Legate Quarters - Before the Holy Hills of Alnus, Alnus Province; 4th day of Martius, Year 6729

The augers and I were surprised at the Holy Chickens' reaction... or in this case a lack of unified action. A portion of them was feasting, a portion of them was running around like if their heads were lopped off, another portion was simply standing there and doing nothing, a fourth portion was doing some odd dance, and it got weirder from there... it was just a giant mess.

"I might be versed in some augury but this is well out of my league," I commented as I continued to watch the spectacle unfold in front of me, "Have you guys seen anything like this?" The augers were pouring through their books, trying to find an answer to this odd spectacle.

"I don't have anything that has them doing all of this at once," the lead auger stated to his compatriots.

"I got the meanings of the various individual omens in this case, but this situation is unprecedented, just like how two Gates showing up is unprecedented," the de facto second in command auger commented, "We're in unfamiliar territory here."

"We've got omens for great gains, great defeats, strange happenings... and all at once," the third auger said, "If I had to be a betting man, we must exercise extreme caution."

"As you said Auger Titus," I commented, "we've got omens for great gains and victories here, isn't it enough to move forward?"

"It isn't," Auger Titus answered, "what we have here is something that is unprecedented and will take at least a day to fully realize an answer."

"You'll have your day," I ordered, "just make sure that can give me an answer for this so I can tell the Legions."

________

Legate Tribonius gave his three augers a day to rationalize their findings, and they said they must be cautious if they are to secure victory... and as they say, the rest was history...
 
Ok, been trying to work out the next snippet when I kept going to my 'adventure in a psi-memory' snippet... and things spiraled from there. So far, I have this:

____________________________________________________________

The 'Iron Pact' is something that I'm still trying to understand, their reasons of existence, their politics, their goals…

… and understand the strangeness that is 'Hauptmann' Neumann.

This one man has kept defying what I know as logic. This man is different than anything I've ever encountered. Then there is this aura around him, making him even more of an enigma. Everyone in the castra has been incredibly tight-lipped about Hauptmann Neumann. My -and the warrior bunnies that managed to smuggle themselves here- investigations kept hitting stone walls, a lot of this man's career is locked behind the term 'classified'. What little that the warrior bunnies and I could dig up show that he is an incredibly powerful shaman. Almost stupidly so. He is also an incredibly capable warrior, and either of these facts does not jive with his calm, simple, introverted demeanor. There is just something off about him. After we returned from 'Berlin', Rory had told me her fears. Few things got her afraid, and this man is one of the few that did.

So, what is the enigma that is 'Hauptmann' Neumann? Few things would get Rory all riled up, and fewer things on that list would make her afraid. If Rory is right and 'Hauptmann' Neumann is more than a shaman, then things are absolutely guaranteed to get complicated and fast. Shamans can talk to those who have not left without much penalty, but those that are shamans, but more are the sort to even take down gods. Not knock them out or lock them into a container, but genuinely kill gods. There has not been one of those since Rory started her trek to godhood, and that one individual left quite an impression on her.

That was when I felt that something happened. Something terrible. I quickly got out of my seat and went to 'Hauptmann' Neumann's room and saw him in absolute agony. I quickly call upon my powers to see what is wrong and… what I saw was something that even gods considered unnatural. How in Hardy's name did 'Hauptmann' Neumann get a reality shard bonded to him!?! I quickly racked my brain and frowned, it is bonded tightly with his soul, so it would be tedious but doable. Thankfully, we Apostles have always kept a small cache of reality crystals on us just in case we find one of these damnable things. I quickly pull out one and prepared the ritual when someone came busting through the door.

It happened quickly, almost to the speeds of apostle-on-apostle combat. The unknown person quickly put a weapon to my head with the intent of using it while I quickly shifted myself to see the assailant. The man has a lanky and somewhat thin build, the lankiness betraying his well-earned muscles.

"Do anything and I'll blow your fucking head off," the man said in an incredibly interesting accent, "Slick and I go way back and if you caused him to have an event, there be hell to pay." I frowned at the implication, but with how much is not in the public record, 'Hauptmann' Neumann might have some particular enemies, enemies who wouldn't be unwilling to force a reality shard to bond with someone's soul and damn the consequences thereof.

"If you want to save your friend," I flatly replied, "you better let go of me. Hauptmann Neumann has a reality shard bonding to his very soul. If that does not get removed before the process completes, he. Will. Die. He along with everyone within fifty mille when two realities clash with each other." I narrowed my eyes at this man, his willingness to protect his friend is commendable but is likely going to land him into trouble. "I and Rory, as Apostles, will survive. If you want the blood of your forces and those settling around your castra on your hands, continue to keep me from doing this."

"Slick has been wrangling with what you call a reality shard for almost a decade and all of our attempts in removing it have failed," the man answered, "he has to take special drugs to keep it at bay. So, what are you going to do to Slick?"

"I was about to undertake a ritual to remove the reality shard," I answered, "first, I must drag the afflicted consciousness from the shard itself, after which I start in the extraction. The extraction will take all my power as an apostle and take a considerable effort, given how closely bonded the shard is to 'Hauptmann' Neumann's soul. Once I have removed the reality shard, I will put it into this crystal sphere. It is made from Elysium Quartz, and it is used for a handful of purposes including the storing of reality shards." The man simply frowned.

"Is it possible that I could go with you?" the man asked, "Given that I know this 'reality shard' better than you? That and Slick can be a bit… imprisonment happy if he has an event…" I kept my shock from becoming visible. 'Hauptmann' Neumann had been using the bonded reality shard as a prison? While ingenious, it is also one of the more… complicated… ways to ensure someone stays locked up for all eternity when all other methods had failed. The mages of Rondel had used that methodology only twice, and the two were incredibly powerful dark mages that could not be contained any other way.

"Since you're more knowledgeable about this reality shard," I answered, "I'll have to default to your experience. What is your name?"

"The name's Tony, Tony Delvecchio," the man answered with a smirk, "now let's go save Slick."

____________________________

Is that better than what I had before? Because it feels like it if you know what I mean.
 
Ok, ladies and gents, I've hit a roadblock. I can't seem to pick which song one character is going to play. On the one hand, I was thinking of one of Bach's harpsichord pieces, specifically Bach's Harpsichord Concerto No.1 in D Minor BWV 1052, on a harpsichord; on the other, I was thinking of using a Red Alert 3 mod's soundtrack, more specifically recordings of Mo Li Hua (Jasmine Flower) or one of their Lunar New Year pieces. I don't believe I've got enough time -so to speak- to have all three of them in and having Bach could be seen as shoehorning too much Germany in.

What would you guys suggest?

The only reason that I'm asking is that there is a shockingly abysmal number of youtube videos that have the harpsichord in it... at least not from Bach anyway.
 
Well, ladies and gents, I said I would post this scene and after banging my head like a madman, I got this scene mostly done. Had to dig through some of my old soundtracks to get the other piece... you wouldn't believe how rare the harpsichord is in music. I mean outside of Fire Emblem, there is only one other that fits the setting of Falmart, so to speak.
___________________________________________
Fort Portal, Business Quarter; October 5th, 2017

The amount of businesses in the "Iron Pact's" castra is something different compared to the Saderan Mondi Operus when it came to castra. The basic principles stayed the same, but the design and layout were radical by anyone's metric here in Falmart. The biggest difference is the various shops not operated by the legions, like the one I am entering right now. Now, from what I have been told in the tour, this is a music shop and while it was hard to settle in, I never got to looking through the store. It would be a change of pace to simply look at how my other doctorate in musical science applies to those of the other-worlders.

As I entered the store, a tone signaled my entry into the store… something that I note that stores in our and their worlds apparently share quite a few things in common. There was a man at a circular desk, overseeing much of the store while talking to a customer as several other people simply made sure everything was in order, something that both civilizations shared but only real difference being scale. Only the music stores of Rondel operate in a similar scale, and only due to Rondel's status as a mage metropolis. There were only a handful of customers in the store, most of them from the 'US-Japan Coalition' or the 'Iron Pact', with only a handful of local bards simply milling about.

That was when I saw something peculiar, a rather large instrument on some sort of stout stage. It looked like some of the instruments that two or three of the richest music-field mages were tinkering with, but it is also something different from a glance. The instrument's shape was far more deliberate than the ones being tinkered with, it gleamed in the sunlight like if it was polished metal… while the underside of the instrument's lid showed it was made of wood, indicating a laminate… or at least lacquered. Interesting, as previous attempts to utilize lacquered wood were fraught with failure, meaning that the 'Men in Green' have far more experience in building instruments with lacquered wood.

I walked up to the instrument, inspecting it closely, absorbing the craftwork for all its worth. It is fantastical craftsmanship, and the sound it made when I tapped one of the keys was just beautiful, only one instrument like this one had ever made that sound back home. I took a seat and then started experimenting. I kept testing the limits of this instrument, trying to find what can and cannot be done. I was so into this experimentation that I did not notice the ever-growing crowd around me.

"That is some pretty decent music that you've played there, miss," a somewhat recognizable voice said with a thick, sharp accent, "It isn't all that common to have someone able to simply sit down and play a harpsichord like an experienced professional would, given the picture that our interviews of the numerous bards and playwrights had painted for your musical sector." That was when he nervously laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Where are my manors, the name's Yōji Yamamoto, owner of this fine establishment."

"Wait, you own this store?" I asked meekly, "I… I did not know that this is yours! Please forgive me for trying it without permission!" I was about to go into an apology rant when Yōji put his hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine," Yōji soothed, "It's out because it is meant to be played by passerby. Now, may I ask the name of the music that you've played?"

"It doesn't have a name yet," I answered, "I've been working on it for weeks and still haven't perfected it. I'm a sound mage you see, and when I'm not exploring the interactions of music and magic, I'm writing music… although I haven't played on an instrument this finely made…"

"Well, we've got all sorts of instruments, although some of which can't be displayed here," Yōji commented, "… I'm being so rude, what is your name ma'am?"

"Amala of Árheimar, Mr. Yamamoto," I answered, "Doctor of Music and Magic, specialty in the interactions between magic and music." Yōji raised an eyebrow at my birth city's name. "I was part of the group that came to investigate the two groups of men in green… and I was interested in what this store has to offer." Yamamoto simply smiled.

"Oh, so your part of the group that everyone has been talking about," Yōji stated playfully, "can't resist the urge to see what's new in instruments then. You remind me of all sorts of people back home." That was when he stretched his fingers and pulled something out. "Then again, if there is anything that brings people together, it's good music." That was when the little device began to sing.

The song that the device -which I assumed is something to a playback crystal- was playing is different compared to what I've previously experienced. While I have heard all sorts of songs in the various establishments, this was something I never heard of. It was, in a word, soothing. Soothing in the way only majestic beauty can bring. It went on for what felt like hours.

"What song was that?" I asked, "I've rarely heard such majestic beauty in my, life…" Yōji simply chuckled.

"That, Amala, is Chinese folksong whose name, when translated, is Jasmine Flower," Yōji answered, "Music is an amazing thing, for it is one of the few things that bring people together. It can be powerful, it can be beautiful, it can be awe-inspiring. Whatever emotions you've felt, chances are there is a piece that uses, embraces, or embodies it."

"That is pretty interesting, Mr. Yamamoto," I commented, "and that is a beautiful name for such a beautiful song. Are there more that I can listen to?" Yōji raised an eyebrow at the question. "I am a Doctor of Music and Magic and I didn't become one of the top doctors of my craft by not being inquisitive."

Yōji simply smirked.

"I'll have to ask a few people, but you might get your wish," Yōji answered, "By the way, the construction crews are currently putting the finishing touches on a concert hall down the way, once that's built you can listen to a few performances. You might be in for a real treat though; it has an instrument that can be accurately described as the building itself."

That got me extremely interested, "Tell me more about this instrument…" Yōji then began describing the instrument, and true to his word it can be accurately described as the building itself. I just have to see it for myself...
 
Alright, people, I've got a status update for you guys:

Wednesday I had a particularly bad case of food poisoning, worse than what I had when I was in freshman/sophomore year in high school. I probably bruised/pulled a muscle from retching so hard. This has delayed the rollout of the next snippets (one being our Apostle finding out several things about the Iron Pact timeline (particularly, the 'mastermind' of the events that led to the Great War of Resistance and the lengths said mastermind is willing to go to get its way) and once confirmed he is going to go straight to the pantheon to get everyone on alert (because the last time this being showed up, it caused enough damage to require their constant presence!) and the other being what an Iron Pact pre-fabbed Field HQ's 'war room' looks/feels like with a natural derivative tech of Iron Pact cybernetics technology in terms of AI technology, although said technology is in its very early 1st generation). Hopefully, I'll recover by Tuesday to restart work in earnest... before taking a short break on this fic before I burn myself out of it (and get some of my plot bunnies in order).
 
Ok people, news update, I had to undergo gall bladder removal surgery yesterday. So content updates will be slow at this time. Sorry about the inconveniences that this will cause.

My luck kind of went somewhat sour these last two weeks. :(
 
So, here is the second part of the psi-memory part of the chapter. I'm not exactly happy with it but since you guys are so patient, I have to post what I've got so far.

____

We managed to land in good order despite the circumstances, but the one thing that got my immediate attention was the powerful stench of rotten eggs and burnt decomposing corpses.

"I'll be frank here," Tony stated, "I've always hated dragging Slick out of this one."

"He had more than one?" I asked in dispirit surprise.

"We removed them, but it's always this one that defied us," Tony responded, "Also, welcome to the city of Cologne, in the year 1921 Anno Domini. Thankfully, Slick isn't having a replay episode."

"A what?" I exclaimed in an astonished tone, "Wait, do you mean what usually happens with a reality shard? Just how strong is Centurion Neumann?" Tony simply smiled in understanding as he looked above the rubble.

"Slick has always been something of a helper," Tony answered, "even if it meant it would kill him. I first met Slick back when we were kids, and he was hopping from base to base like all military kids did. Helped me and my sister understand our powers and have been friends ever since. Now, let us get to Cologne Cathedral, Slick will be there, I promise you." Tony then pointed to the tallest temple that I have ever seen. "We better get moving, that is unless you want to see how much of a shitshow this siege was by seeing it firsthand." That was when I noticed a presence, a very recognizable presence.

While Tony and I skirt through the ruins, I reached out to make sure that the presence is not what I think it was. My fears were somewhat confirmed, for it was one of his underlings. If I could feel that, then the local pantheons would have seen it like it was naked in broad daylight. When I get this damnable thing into the crystal, I will have to get this information to the gods as soon as possible.

As we moved closer to the temple, I started to hear singing in what sounded like ancient Saderan.

"Yep, Slick isn't in a replay episode," Tony smirked, "He always makes sure that anyone rescuing him will be fast-forwarded to the moment that this song is sung. Fitting too, given that this is one of the darkest days of the Great War of Resistance."

"That's interesting," I commented as we neared what I assume was the front gate of the temple, "most temples don't have the acoustics to have it heard outside its walls."

"The funny thing is, we would have only been able to hear it a few blocks at most. Slick was always… different… when it came to his brand of paranormal. This is just one of his many intricacies." As we entered, the sight before me was unsettling as doctors and children ran about, the outlines of the former positions of immense benches still marked the floor. To have a temple turn into a hospital is… desperate. At the front of these was Hauptmann Neumann, mimicking the lead musician of the choir. Tony silently signaled me to allow him to finish.

The song had many emotions to it with a hefty amount of natural devotion and regal-ness to it. Being an Apostle opens a lot of senses that are not available to mortals, and what I am seeing is something beautiful. Even though I am in the middle of what this world considers war, my eyes slowly swell with tears. Tony is right about one thing, this is one of this world's darkest moments, and the choir song is a light in that dark moment.

It took a minute for the song to complete before Centurion Neumann stopped mimicking the choir leader.

"So, Tony, did you get Leo roped into a rescue mission?" Centurion Neumann asked as he walked towards us.

"Not really, Slick," Tony answered with a smirk, "He was just about to jump headfirst into saving your ass when I came barging in." Centurion Neumann snickered.

"Oh really?" Centurion Neumann said, "Well then, let's get out of here before something happens and we get stuck in the playback." With that, Tony muttered a few words after touching a door and we quickly exited…

____

We reappeared in Centurion Neumann's room, surrounded by people in rather simple-yet-extraordinary clothing… some of them pointing 'pistols' at my head.

"Oh, come on!" Tony said, "I know you guys from A Branch are cynical and paranoid to a fault, but if I didn't blow this guy's brains out, then he's cool."

"Ah, sorry about that," the leader stated calmly, "we've had some particularly nasty characters try to use graf Neumann's condition to try to assassinate him. Due to the situation, we assumed the worst." Tony simply sighed.

"I know Slick far longer than you guys have," Tony sparred, "and that includes some of his abilities. Who do you think taught Angela and me how to use our abilities?" That was when Tony looked at me. "Alright Leo, how does your removal ritual work?"

I took a deep breath and slammed my hand onto the floor, creating a ritual circle around Centurion Neumann, shoving everyone else out of the way. "First, I create the ritual circle and put the crystal into position," I stated as I placed the Elysium Quartz into position on top of Centurion Neumann's stomach, "and second, the pain starts…" That was when the intense pain started. I gritted my teeth and plowed through it. Oh, I'm so going to feel this in the morning…
 
So, status update: I now have a job at Subway! So far it has been consisting of 6-hour days so I won't have as much time doing my writing as I would usually. At least I've got a job and going to get paid. So sorry for any delays this may cause.
 
Well, here is what I've got so far, hope you guys like it.
_________________________________
Fort Portal, The War Room; October 6th​, 2017

Fiction has this unsettling tendency to make War Rooms these grandiose constructs, filled with rows upon rows of computers and holoplots and screens where legions of men and women type and click away, shifting through the immense data of the battlefield. The reality is… far different.

"I've seen my fair of war rooms, but this is far different than any I've been in," Major James Hammond commented as we walked towards the holoplot, "still, some of the gear is luxurious by our standards."

"I can believe that" I commented as we got to the holoplot, "Athena, get the current positions of our forces on Falmart if you would please."

"Understood General."

Soon the holoplot showed a translucent copy of our current maps, showing the positions of the numerous units in the field on Falmart.

"Now this is impressive," Hammond commented, "Stratospheric satellites I take it?"

"Yes," I answered, "while useless in most situations back home, they've got their uses here. Also allows us to stay in contact with the Vaterland IV out in Equestria. Which reminds me, we have got another list for you. From what we have been told, they're humans from your world that ended up in Equestria after the ship they were on ran aground near one of their cities."

"That's good to know," Hammond replied as he was handed the list, "Damn, some of these names are pretty important back home… and solve a few missing person cases as well." Hammond then shifted his vision to the holoplot. "It seems that your forces have been pretty busy. If I had to guess, you'll be cutting the Saldarian Empire in half by the end of next year." I smirked; Hammond was rather right on the money on the projections. "Although, I'm surprised that you are able to logistically handle the forces here. We're stuck with only a brigade-sized formation due to the GATE being such a bottleneck."

"One of the first things that we did with our GATE is let Wolfenstein take a gander at it, and they've managed to understand how it ticks. They have enlarged it enough to allow a decent wheeled logistics train through and are working on making one that would allow a rail connection," I answered, "That, from what I have been told, is ongoing. We had to literally disassemble our locomotives and reassemble them on this side to get our rail logistics started."

"Oh, that has to be a bitch and a half," Hammond sighed, "Especially given that you've got Blue Ridge and Big Boy locomotives on this side of the GATE. Even we balked at the idea of sending locos onto this side of the GATE just due to the headaches of transport."

"You didn't know the half of it. It took us a good two weeks to get those locomotives over, hauled to Berlin, disassembled, and then getting them shipped over," I agreed, "Then there are all the checks to make after reassembly. While they're a nuisance, the logistical capabilities more than make up for it."

Hammond smirked as he understood the reasoning. Railheads are the only true way to move the immense number of men and material an army required anywhere outside of ports. That was when Hammond noticed something. "What does these symbols here represent?" he asked, "I haven't seen symbols quite like that before."

"Ah, that's the various 'Black Numbers' that we've got to keep an eye on," I explained, "While your world considers the paranormal fantasy, we must treat any possible paranormal sighting seriously. Thankfully we haven't found a Psi-Memories laying about. That would make things far messier than anyone would like." Hammond simply nodded, understanding that there are differences between his world and mine. "Although, to be honest, we're kind of in uncharted territory with these two. A Black 12C is something we've known to be a possibility but haven't encountered. The other one is a broadcast of some kind using a variant of our World War 2 encryption, and a complete unknown. Wolfenstein has only started investigating, by sending a team from A Section no less." Hammond raised an eyebrow at the implied seriousness of the situation. "That reminds me, you'll be meeting the leader of a Wolfenstein team while we're here. She'll be overseeing any investigations and training at your hill."

"Anything about the attaché before I take her over to Alnus Hill?" Hammond asked, trying to get a read on the attaché before she arrived.

"Captain Delvecchio can be a little abrasive and cocky but she's one of the best," I answered, "Seen her work before and she can back up her talk and then some. She also loves baseball and I've seen her dominate games before." Hammond chuckled a little.

"So, I'm dealing with a fireball," Hammond chuckled, "Seen a few in my time, but I'm getting the feeling that she's going to be very memorable." That was when the doors to the war room opened.

"I'm just a memorable person," a woman said in a fairly thick Bronx accent, "So you're the attaché from Alnus Hill?"

"I am," Hammond answered, "and I believe you're Captain Delvecchio." Hammond extended his hand, hoping to shake Angela's hand.

"Captain Angela Delvecchio, at your service," Angela said as she shook Hammond's hand, "I hope you like grueling training, because that's what you're going to get with me."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," Hammond smiled…
 
So, here we go, and I've even got an introduction to a 'giden' story in too (although, it won't be available here). ;) Quick word of warning, the chapter is currently over 10k words in total. So it's going to be a long one.
__________________________________________________
Fort Portal, Wolfenstein Temporary Field Headquarters; later that day

I was pensive as I looked at the data that we would be going over today with my AugReal, and boy do we have a lot to go over today. A world where there's paranormal out the ass and we're not even far enough along with our 'paranorms are like people' social engineering project to keep things from getting problematic. We're just thankful that, currently, all fielded and reserved units had scored very high on the acceptance tests, although that is largely because psychics have been an ousted secret for a while now.

If people knew the sort of company that Aaron keeps and what he is… well… panic in the streets would be the best-case scenario.

"So, how is Agent Big Fire doing in terms of recovery?" I asked our empath, Agent Ivanova.

"Doing quite well, thankfully enough," Ivanova answered, "At least he wouldn't have to put that shit into his system anymore to keep the Colone Psi-Memory from killing him." I understood Ivanova's hatred with the drug that kept Aaron alive so long, given that an anti-Psi doctor gave her mother just enough of an overdose to cause her to commit suicide. "He's still in recovery, but he'll be back to a clean bill of health by the end of the day." That's fantastic news, given some of the HIPs that we've been encountering or given information on.

"That's good to hear," I smiled, "Hopefully we can get some information on some of the HIPs we've discovered already. Williams, what's the status on that Black 8?" The diminutive man sighed as he brought up the data to the conference's datanet.

"So far, we're at a loss," Agent Williams answered, "From the preliminary data analysis, we're likely looking at someone using a WW2 divisional radio set and using a variation of encryption from the same conflict. We've been making spotty contact with the user and from the sound of it, he is under the thumb of one of the Saldarian gods. The current theory on the sender is that he's from our neck of the woods, dimensionally." Everyone's eyebrows raised comically to their hairlines at that statement. Wolfenstein, GRU Division P, and the UID had occasionally encountered the dimensionally displaced, but they generally tend to be very far afield, so to speak. The possibility of someone from our neck of the woods is measured in a lot of zeroes on the right side of the decimal point. While everyone is prepared for this sort of situation, it's another to be living in said situation.

"That is going to give us untold amounts of headaches in the future," Agent Oracle groaned, "although it could give us a viewpoint into the local Celestial situation."

"Yes," Williams butted in, "but due to the random nature of these calls -likely to ensure that the god in question doesn't get wise- this would be a very slow method of intelligence." Oracle reluctantly agreed with that statement. "Then there is the possibility that we might screw this up and alert the god our contact is beholden to and cause all sorts of problems. We can't set up our anchors yet due to possible adverse reactions with the locals or the forces from the other Earth." Everyone shivered at that statement, as the early days of reality anchor use had all sorts of effects on people. Hell, the list of effects of a badly optimized reality anchor is enough to make even the most hardened men regurgitate their innards. "The medical checks we've been conducting have been going well, and we'll probably have a limited wide-area test run within a month." At least something is going our way on the paranormal side of this conflict. So far, we've only had to deal with delays of logistics, not anything overt.

It also helps that Agent Big Fire is around, we would probably be neck-deep into Celestial shenanigans if that weren't the case.

"That's good to hear," I stated, "Now, Smalls, what about the Black 12C that the alpine troops discovered?"

"We've managed to open the temple complex and have entered the main foyer," Smalls answered, "Given that our mapping drones have indicated that the complex is hyperspatial, we saw it would be prudent to prepare a basecamp for further exploration." Oh, please not be non-Euclidian, because those aren't enjoyable to map. "From the data we've gathered so far, it's only a Euclidian type hyperspatial construct similar to what was found by the UID back in 1977 at HSC1." I breathed a small sigh of relief, for having to tackle a non-Euclidian hyperspatial construct is an easy way to go insane. Even Big Fire can't stand how such constructs mess with one's spatial awareness. Mortal minds can't compute anything more than 3 physical dimensions, even modified ones like Big Fire.

"Thank the Celestial Council for small mercies," I sighed in relief, "What's the preliminary ETA of the complex's mapping?" Smalls frowned a little at the question.

"So far, we don't have an ETA, because we don't have the appropriate drones to map out such a construct. We've been barely able to get out of the main entrance complex, and even then, we've only mapped out some 1% of the place," Smalls answered solemnly, "If it is anything like S4, we're probably looking at years, if not decades before we map even half of it." Ah, yes, that little problem. We need someone who knows that place and currently the only possible lead is currently recuperating from nearly killing herself in trying to reach the place.

"Alright, just make sure we get everything we've seen logged, categorized, and left alone for now," I ordered, "Joshua, your team had to deal with some of the local paranormal, anything that isn't in the report?" Joshua perked up a little as he prepared to give some of his memories about the incident.

"Yesterday, at 07:30, we've encountered a major village that is semi-autonomous from the Saldarian Empire," Joshua stated as he showed the images of the village in question, "We've managed to contact with the local leaders, and we've discovered something interesting. The local lord is a powerful mage that goes by the name of Guðný Dovahkiin and is one of the few major progressives -at least by the standards of the Saldarians and the medieval period- on the continent of Falmart. However, Dovahkiin is has taken a liking to curse anyone who tries to kill him or harms his subjects by turning them into… cows or minotaurs." That's one way to get rid of people. "Surprisingly enough, a fair number of locals ask to become minotaurs, largely to help everyone else. Why use bulls when you're the bull, so to speak." Everyone raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Given that she hates the Saldarians but only swore fealty to the Empire because they would slaughter her subjects… we're looking at another friendly on this world. We'll be contacting Cato soon to get a more rounded viewpoint on Dovahkiin."

"That would give us an opportunity to gauge how the local magical community is in terms of ethics and standards," Ivanova interrupted, "Given the general situation, it's best to have our bases covered." With that, the meeting went well into the night…
 
Chapter 7: Beginnings of Motions
Chapter 7: Beginnings of Motions
Fort Portal, Medical Center (High Security); October 3rd​, 2017

Chrysalis felt groggy as she woke up from her hibernation and saw that she had been moved into a vastly more advanced version of an Equestrian infirmary… which had creeped her out a little. Equestrian infirmaries and hospitals were well known for being some of the most advanced and capable of Equis, to the point that practically everyone else effectively copied them wholesale. Yet this infirmary mocked their Equestrian counterparts in terms of comfort and cleanliness…

"Ah, she's finally recovering," a male voice speaking Saldarian -with an incredibly thick alien accent- commented, "Looks like the Emotion Solution is working better than expected. Ivanova, alert the medical staff." Another voice -this one female- spoke in an unknown language and from what she could hear was running out of the room.

"… how am I alive?" Chrysalis wondered aloud, "I should be dead…" That was when her vision cleared and a man in a dark grey dress uniform stood in front of her bed.

"Well, it isn't the first time we had to work with beings who feed mostly off emotions," the male said, "Operative Smalls, lead of the Wolfenstein team assigned to Fort Portal on the Holy Hill of Remus. From what we can understand, you were on the verge of death when we found you." Chrysalis simply stared at 'Operative Smalls', trying to find the male's angle. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. After you get cleared by the doctors my kamarad and I will be asking a few questions for a temple that was literally two hundred meters from where you collapsed." That was when Chrysalis heard a bunch of beings walking into the room.

"Well, well, our VIP is finally awake," a female voice said, "Went through eight weeks of emotion fluid to do it but you're alive." Chrysalis saw the source of the female voice; it was a female garbed in what clearly looked similar to a nurse's garb in Equestria… just with teal instead of white. "Move aside Operative, I've got to make sure that we didn't miss anything." With that, the male simply stepped aside as the female did various quick exams.

"… wait, emotion fluid? You've encountered changelings on your world then?" Chrysalis asked as she was being fussed over.

"Our world has an… interesting… relationship with the paranormal," the male voice -Operative Smalls Chrysalis reminded herself- said, "… and it is the duty of my organization to keep an eye on such things." That… didn't fill Chrysalis with any confidence that this would end well. "Given that the few Equestrians that are still here have given some… interesting… details about your wrongdoings, we've discovered a variable that changes the entire equation." Chrysalis, at this moment, was filled with both hope and dread, as these humans have discovered the very thing that has been slowly corrupting and killing the Changeling race. What they would do with it is left to luck to decide.

"She'll need a more thorough examination, but she's fit for questioning," the female nurse stated, "Just don't stress her too much." And with that, she left.

"Understood," Operative Smalls replied, "Ah, Operative Ivanova, glad for you to join us." The new woman -Operative Ivanova- dryly chuckled. "Get the recording equipment prepped and we'll start the questioning." Chrysalis looked at the equipment with unease, as they were far different than anything that she had encountered.

… and she encountered quite a few horrible things in her life.

"… what are you going to ask?" Chrysalis asked meekly before narrowing her eyes, "I will not allow you to hurt my hive despite the fact that they've overthrown me." The two humans simply chuckled dryly.

"It isn't anything of that nature we can promise you," the female -Ivanova Chrysalis reminded herself- stated, "It is mostly about how you got to this continent, why you were trying to get into a Black 12-C, and why we're detecting an active S-Class Degenerator on you…"

Chrysalis looked at the two humans in disbelief, few beings on this planet and on the celestial plane know about the curse plaguing the changeling race, and fewer still knew of its effects and many of the later died trying to find a way to break it. These humans have detected the curse and its horrid effects and from the sound of things, they have an idea on how to break it.

"Surprised?" Ivanova asked, "It isn't Wolfenstein's first time dealing with what you have, although it is a rare occurrence." Chrysalis was shocked, it was like she was… "Reading your mind? I'm an empath, I can sense emotions and surface thoughts. I would recommend trying to tone your thoughts down though, your kind of loud with your thoughts. They're loud enough that I wasn't even trying to read your thoughts and I'm getting the equivalent of having someone yell right in my ear…"

"Um… sorry…" Chrysalis answered in embarrassment, "it's been quite a few months since I've been overthrown by my own hive... I might be… rusty… with my mind-link abilities." Chrysalis was practically blushing in embarrassment.

"Given all our research indicates that psychic abilities are like muscles," Ivanova stated, "stop using them and they'll decline rather quickly. It isn't the first time a psychic forgot to regulate their mental volume…" Chrysalis chuckled at that. "Now, let us begin with the questioning. How did you get onto Falmart?"

… and with that, Chrysalis started answering questions to the best of her ability…

In Canterlot Airspace, Vaterland IV, LZ-420; October 5th​, 2017

The crew of the Vaterland IV was barely able to keep to their stations as they neared the capital of the Kingdom of Equestria, as the sight of the city of Canterlot is simply awe-inspiring.

"Alright, we're getting close to the Canterlot Terminal," the pegasus stated as the Vaterland IV closed in, "If you could slow down that would be perfect." The pegasus -one Haus Wing- is the lead station pilot for the Canterlot Airship Terminal.

"Aye sir," Kaptain Abraham Einhorn stated as he set the engine teleprompter to 1/10 speed, "Docking speed aye. All stations, brace for landing procedures." The teleprompter dinged as the smaller arrow landed on 1/10 speed, slowing the airship to about 5 knots.

"Take her in easy," Haus Wing ordered, "We don't want any of the cells to rupture." Abraham mentally jotted that piece of information down, apparently, Equestrians understand the perils of using hydrogen as a lift gas (although, in the grand scheme of things, using helium as a lift gas wasn't going to work as there was simply not enough helium to make it viable) and that landing an airship needs to be taken carefully.

"Standard landing procedure aye," the helmsman responded as she guided the Vaterland IV to the landing area, "Glideslope plotted, engaging now." With that, the Vaterland IV slowly glided in by the sophisticated computer and the escorting pegasi. From the look of things, much of the astounding city that is Canterlot was out watching the Vaterland IV slowly enter the aerodrome.

It took a better part of half an hour to complete, but everything had run like clockwork. Einhorn was actually surprised at the speed and ability of the Equestrian aerodrome crew despite the fact that what few airships had seen could compare to the Vaterland IV, the crews were doing it like it was a common occurrence.

"Ground teams have the Vaterland IV anchored Kaptain," Abraham's XO stated, "we're ready to disembark."

"Well, then," Abraham stated with a smile, "Let's not keep the locals waiting. Tell the crew to prepare for storage and maintenance procedures. The Equestrians probably haven't dealt with a zeppelin, we better help them before something happens."

"Jawohl!" Abraham's XO answered as he picked up the mic, "Attention all crew, standard storage and maintenance procedures are now in effect…" Abraham smoothly exited the command gondola and moved towards the main entryway inside the airship.

"Is everything prepared?" Abraham asked the Chief of Security as he walked towards the exit.

"Everything is prepared sir," the Chief of Security answered, "We'll just need the formality to take care of." The formality of question is the equivalent of requesting to come ashore. Not doing so at this juncture would be horrible manners, especially since it's the capital of the Kingdom of Equestria that they're landing next to.

"Alright then, tell the passengers that they'll be disembarking shortly," Abraham ordered. Abraham then turned around and walked down the steps.

"Ah, welcome Captain," the tall white anthro-alicorn -Princess Celestia, Abraham reminded himself- said in a regal but calming tone, "Welcome to Equestria and thank you for getting those that were taken from us home."

"It is a pleasure ma'am," Abraham responded, "Permission to come ashore?" Celestia and the slightly shorter anthro-alicorn -Princess Luna, Abraham reminded himself- raised one of their eyebrows. "It is a courtesy ma'am. We have landed at your capital after all." Celestia and Luna quickly made faces of realization and smiled.

"Well of course!" Luna answered, "Someone who is willing to travel thousands of miles to return our lost subjects has our permission!" Abraham quickly signaled his crew to start getting the passengers off the Vaterland IV and help the Equestrian land crews on getting the zeppelin into the nearby hanger. "It is with great joy that I meet with people of your intentions."

"… and it is our honor to see someone that is willing to help our citizens despite the circumstances Princess Celestia and Princess Luna," a new voice came as he walked down the stairs, it was Prince Adolf who had been assigned to the mission, "Prince Adolf, son of her highness Kaiserin Sophia of the German Empire and assigned ambassador to the Kingdom of Equestria. It is a pleasure to make a personal acquaintance ma'am." Sophia has five kids, all of them doing something with their lives. In the case of Prince Adolf, it was being a diplomat… which is something that he was surprisingly decent at. "I must admit, your citizens were amazingly adaptive in getting our zeppelin into the aerodrome. I must commend on their efforts and adaptability."

"The head of the aerodrome, Ulysses Steelwill, will be elated to hear it," Princess Celestia responded with a smile, "Let us head to the castle, you must be famished from your trip!" Cooking on airships is infamously strict, given that helium isn't as cost-effective as one would like…

"We had a spot of turbulence as we entered the Canter Mountain Range, so we had to skip lunch," Adolf explained, "it would be an honor to have lunch with you even if we had it a little earlier." Celestia and Luna smiled.

Elsewhere, Somewhere in Falmart

It had been so many years since that bitch enslaved me. Enslaved again, to be without freedom after regaining it after so long… it is infuriating. Now I can no longer visit Jasmine and Victor's descendants, no longer have pleasant conversations and give out the sort of life advise that transcends time itself…

It was thanks to those two that I've been free of that curse. Actually, truly free… at least until some idiots decide to resurrect me just so they can unleash hell on humanity. If I had the various coinage and currencies for every single fucking time I get shanghaied into that sort of shit, I'll be beyond filthy rich!

The only reason that I've stayed sane is because of the hope that I would see the family again!

… and now I sense my salvation! It has been a very long time since I've sensed one of them! Centuries even!

… and if I remember right it was Jasmine and Victor's great-grandson that had that ability. Yet to have someone with that ability with such intensity is a rare sight to behold! My old friend Wilhelm would be absolutely giddy with excitement that he would be able to teach someone all of his knowledge if he was still alive!

I wonder how my son is doing, haven't heard from him in a long while… but then again last I've heard of him was that he was hunting a bunch of crazies that called themselves the 'Werewolf Battalion'…

… hm, how to get a message out with that bitch watching?

My underlings are out, that bitch has them under the same lock and key as myself; my message magic is out, the bitch has put restrictions on my magic; I can't use my more various ravens, owls, and phoenixes… because of that bitch

That was when I spotted my divisional command radio set that was given to me by Jasmine and Victor's descendants after they defeated the leader of the 'Werewolf Battalion'. That might just work given how arrogant the bitch was. I had given it a few modifications over the years, then add to the fact that my castle's metaphysical and physical location is close to the Holy Hills… I can easily send messages there to ensure I get free again.

Now… the message is going to be the tricky part and given the various notes on encryption and that the bitch doesn't have the pesky language barrier problem, so it will have to be an encryption scheme that they would know and the only notes would be in my head… that limits my options (and that saying something, given my centuries of unlife)…

That was when an idea popped into my head.

"Lightbulb…"

Imperial City of Antioch Nova, 150km north of Alnus Province; October 3rd​, 6729

Legate Hostus Murrius Niraemius frowned at the situation that he is now in. Those 'Men in Green' have kept cutting through the Empire's forces like a scythe through wheat, and they have now set their sights on Antioch Nova.

Antioch Nova is a fortress city situated on the Arauris Nova River, one of the cornerstones of the entire network of rivers and canals that made up a significant part of the Empire's infrastructure alongside its immense highways. Due to this, Antioch Nova became rich with trade, making the city like Italica in terms of wealth.

… but now Niraemius had received word from his scouts that the 'Men in Green' were coming here...

If they take the city, then they can make things incredibly problematic for the Empire, as they can put a dagger to one of the major arteries of the Empire… and the problems that would cause would put the Empire in jeopardy.

In preparation for a siege, Niraemius had ordered the citizens and slaves to the city's immense citadel while his most experienced cohorts manned the city's walls with local levies. It was risky but he had very few options given the strategic importance of the city. He had to hold, lest the 'Men in Green' get a direct route to several key cities including the fortress city of Heliopolis Nova which is important due to the city being one end of the largest pass in the Alnus Mountain Range.

If both fall, then the 'Men in Green' effectively own much of the western half of the Empire, practically gutting it in manpower and resources. A position that would make the Empire incredibly vulnerable. The other passes aren't even remotely wide and sturdy enough to get legions through, making it impossible for legions to get in and out of the front. With the only options being essentially getting forces through piecemeal… that is only asking to be defeated in detail.

Given the situation, Niraemius had ordered earthworks to be created across the planned battlefield, given that they utilized incredibly powerful explosive spells as their primary weapon and the fact that earthworks have always been the best counter to said spells. If Niraemius could force the Men in Green to get into close quarters, then his men will have the advantage.

… but that relied on several assumptions. Assumptions that might not work.

Yet… it was all that he had now as Antioch Nova is too vital to not defend.

"Legate Niraemius, the enemy has been sighted several mille passus away from the first layer of earthworks and approaching at a pace that we haven't seen before," the messenger from the scout cohort stated, "A third of the scout cohort had been annihilated in getting this information to you and to the cohorts…" Niraemius silently swore his luck, while the legions have always used various calls for maneuvers and strategies, the use of dragon-riding scouts made this useless for them and them alone. While initially used as essentially flying cavalry, the dragon rider cohorts were retooled as another addition to the legions and due to their immense range and speed required some of their number to be messengers. To lose a third of the dragon rider cohort is an immense blow to the battle strength of the legion here… battle strength that will be needed in the coming battle.

"Understood, send a message to the cohort to stay back, I want the cohort ready to strike in the enemy's rear when the time comes," Niraemius ordered, "They must have a massive supply train if they are moving this quickly. A supply train that we will exploit." The legions' main strategy has always been to find and eliminate the enemy's supply train, not only because it was full of valuable loot, but it also made it impossible for the enemy to keep on the field. To keep a strategic tempo like this would require a massive supply train. Hopefully, the 'Men in Green' would surrender quickly as they run out of food and material…

That was when Niraemius heard a titanic explosion in the distance. Quickly getting his looking glass, Niraemius looked into the distance and saw that the 'Men in Green' had already started attacking the earthworks and had already inflicted immense casualties. What little he could see was horrific, bodies and body parts were strewn around the point of the explosion and the explosion itself left a giant crater in a portion of the earthworks.

Niraemius cursed his luck, the 'Men in Green' have far more powerful explosion magic than thought possible, making the walls of the city and the earthworks his legion made absolutely useless. Thankfully, the cohorts at the forward earthworks had already started on the standard countermeasures, using the bronze barrels with obscuras agent -an alchemical agent designed to create thick clouds of white smoke, thick enough to make it impossible for a chase- as they went through the retreat channels of the earthworks.

"… by Hardy…" the messenger exclaimed in awe, trying to rationalize what was happening, "… what is your message to Heliopolis Nova?"

Niraemius simply frowned at the situation as he watched as the scene unfolded, trying to analyze the 'Men in Green' and their abilities. "If they continue as they are," Niraemius answered, "All I can say is that once they are sighted, surrender is the only real option."

"… that is…" the messenger said in surprise.

"Impossible?" Niraemius finished, "I've been leading the Empire's legions for almost thirty years as a Legate and what I've seen has changed my perception of impossible. The Men in Green are meticulous, though, and efficient… yet have been almost perfect gentlemen." Niraemius simply looked onward for a moment, collecting himself. "Given the strength of the enemy's weapons and their willingness to use them, the situation is likely to be untenable. Now go to Heliopolis Nova before they are able to take you down." The messenger simply nodded and left, leaving Niraemius alone to survey the battlefield.

Looking through his eyeglass, he saw that the 'Men in Green' had finally shown themselves going into the first layer of earthworks, their legionaries scouring through them to ensure that they wouldn't be attacked from behind. This would give his other cohorts time… time to redeploy and for the dragon cohort to strike at the enemy's rear.

That was when Niraemius saw that the entire sky was filled with goldenrod colored projectiles, ripping into the dragon cohort like a hungry Great Dragon. This is incredibly problematic, as it appeared that the Men in Green weren't idiots and left their supply train unescorted and that ended any hope of getting an advantage in this fight.

Just as Niraemius was going to give new orders, his life was quickly ended…

Italica, Italica Province – 200km from Alnus Province; October 3rd​, 6729

Piña was right to move to Italica, as several important keystones of the Empire's transportation network were focused on several cities in the region, and the message she received from a dragon messenger was troubling: Antioch Nova had fallen and Legate Hostus Murrius Niraemius had been killed without seeing his killer without the usual carnage that ensued. Pina knew Niraemius, and quite well as he was one of the legates that would tutor her in the ways of war when he wasn't off on campaign.

… and now the Empire lost one of its most prominent legates alongside one of its key junctions.

Then there were the reports of increased banditry that have been slowly getting closer and closer to Italica itself. The current lady -and her immediate regent- of Italica had already started working on setting up for a siege.

Then there were the reports of a Great Fire Dragon feeding across the countryside, a problem that is incredibly problematic at the best of times, let alone being on top of a rising banditry problem and an invasion from the Men in Green!

"My lady," Hamilton stated as she came into the war room of the keep, "We've just gotten more reports from all around the province." Hamilton simply handed Piña more reports. "It actually looks good for once. From what I've read, the Men in Green are slowing down…"

"… but that is only because they're allowing their engineers to rework the highways and build their own infrastructure," Piña frowned, "Once they start up again, they'll likely be fully supplied again. That would be the problem. Given how effective their weapons are, they'll probably be doing that work at such a speed that we might be just standing still." Hamilton sighed in disbelief, understanding Piña's assumptions and worries. "Why does this have to be so hard…"

"Piña," Hamilton replied, shaking Piña out of her stress-induced daze, "You're pushing yourself too hard, the Knights can't function if their leader is a tattered mess due to all the stress that she's putting herself under." Piña simply smiled at Hamilton, thanking Emoly for her level-headedness and willingness to take action when Piña is basically destroying herself. "Just take the rest of the day off and I'll make sure we've got everything ready for tomorrow. If something were to happen now, we'll be practically leaderless."

"… I…" Piña started before rethinking about what she was about to say, "… I'm screwing everyone here over if I continue to act like this." Hamilton sighed in relief, as Piña wasn't going to be stubborn as a mule again. "The Order and Italica need me to be as fit as possible for the days ahead… and I can't do that running myself to death's door." Hamilton smiled as two of the praetorian guard escorted her to her temporary quarters.

"Now, let's get this over with," Hamilton muttered to herself as she took a look at the reports and the map before her…

Alnus Town, near Fort Gate; October 4th​, 2017

"So, who are you guys again?" Itami asked the two black-grey suited officers as they walked with Itami through the recently founded 'Alnus Town'. Itami couldn't believe that the Iron Pact had sent contractors that can not only build houses in the old style, but also build them to the modern standard, something that Itami thought was incredibly hard to do.

"We're part of Wolfenstein, Herr Itami," one of the black-grey suited officers -Itami remembered his name being Agent Kallus- reminded Itami, "given all the possible paranormal activity, we've been dispatched here to Falmart to keep things from… getting out of control." Itami and the MP that was with him raised an eyebrow at that statement. "While it is common knowledge back home that often-remembered legends and myths have a kernel of truth to them, it isn't known which ones have more truth to them and how to contain them. It didn't help that psi-memories started popping up after our World War 2."

"So… you go around like a bunch of paranormal investigators?" Itami question-answered in a polite/cautious tone. Kallus simply nodded yes in response.

"More or less and that also means that you sometimes get paranormal activity that… doesn't… want to cooperate," Kallus expanded, "Then again, some of the shit that Hauptmann Neumann went through while working with our organization even makes us cringe. Just don't ask about Amarillo. Just don't. From what I know about that, I understand why he has what your American allies call "Nam Flashbacks"."

"Kallus, we've got something on the psi-scope," the other Wolfenstein officer stated, "Might be an afterimage but…"

"With how many beings are flooding into Alnus and Remis Town, we can't be too careful given the confirmation of Celestials willing to pull their weight around in Falmart," Kallus commented, "Well Itami, it looks like you're getting a front row seat to our usual 'meet and greet' work." The group politely made their way to the disturbance, which was turned out to be a priestess. "Ma'am, I'm Agent Kallus and this is Agent Walker, we've noticed that you were carrying a paranormal disturbance with you." The otter-woman's eyes widened significantly in surprise. "All we need right now is a declaration of the disturbance and reveal the disturbance for analysis to ensure that it won't hurt others."

"Oh, I'm sorry, the memo must have gotten lost then," the priestess stammered, "I've got the papers that Agent Williams gave me before he and his men allowed me on the train." She quickly dug out a small booklet and gave the papers to Kallus.

"Hm," Kallus stated as he did a quick scan, "everything is in order. Sorry about that, we had to be sure. We've already gotten some beings that had some interesting predicaments that got pass quarantine. We're sorry if we've kept you." The otter-woman simply smiled as she received the booklet.

"If it wouldn't be a bother," the otter-woman asked politely, "can you help me get to the local temple complex? I'm still new here and…"

"… you're still trying to get used to the place, we understand," Kallus nodded understandingly, "Agent Walker, can you escort this lady to the religious district? We'll be hitting the bar in a little bit so meet us there."

"Yes sir," Walker answered before turning to the priestess, "This way ma'am." With that, the two left towards the north-east portion of the city.

"Well, that was interesting," Itami nervously stated, "do all 'meet and greets' end up like that?" Kallus understood Itami's question, given that paranormal work is kind of put on the 'down low' in terms of publicity.

"For the most part, yes," Kallus answered, "You've got to understand, apparently our Earth is something of a paranormal refugee camp, much like this planet if what we've gotten from a few interviews are to be believed." Itami tilted his head a little. "Basically, most of the paranormal that isn't part of our Earth came from elsewhere in various bids to escape some sort of cataclysm or another. Most of those refugees don't want to rock the boat so they kept their distance. Those that do try to rock the boat are kept from causing problems by everyone else."

"That's… interesting," Itami commented, "all of our 'paranormal' is fairy tales and fiction. All fake." That was when Kallus chuckled.

"Well, that has several condonations," Kallus explained while chuckling, "something that has to be researched to give any specifics on. Hopefully we can at least get teams to shift through the myths of your Earth to get a preliminary answer." Itami was a bit dumbfounded at this sort of reaction. "Alright, we'll be heading off to lunch."

With that, everyone went off to lunch at one of the recently opened bar and grill that opened in town.

Bert, Tetsui, and Hans International Bar and Grill – Alnus Town; a few minutes later

The immense floor that was the bar and grill was packed with patrons and the air was filled with the smells of barbecue, alcohol, and food. It was… peculiar… to Itami that the establishment fit so well into the medieval style structure, and to see it so lively was a bit surprising.

"Ah, Kallus!" one of the waiters exclaimed as the small group, "I see you've been assigned to Alnus town!" That was when Kallus's eyes widened in surprise.

"Samantha," Kallus exclaimed as he jogged towards the waiter and hugged her, "how did you get authorization to get to Falmart?" The waitress -Samantha, Itami reminded himself- returned the favor and hugged Kallus back.

"Eh, you know, the usual," Samantha answered with a smile, "being a former Hauptmann does have its perks. With the company following the soldiers to Falmart, they chose me to help get things running." Samantha quickly escorted us to a table, handing out the paper-thin tablets that served as menus. "Anything to drink before you make your order?"

Itami took a quick look at the drink section of the menu and was intrigued at the wide assortment of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages… and then sighted that a statement that the establishment also had an entertainment center. Itami quickly filed it in the back of his brain as he continued to look at the beverages…

_________________

Working at a Men in Green establishment was far different than what I was used to. Most non-humans in the empire tended to be relegated to work that is barely above slave work, but the Men in Green -from either Gate- are vastly different in that regard. If you have the talent and experience, you could get the job.

Being a wood elf, being a head chief was something that I never expected to become. Sure, I had to do some training to get the job, but once I got a handle on how the Men in Green handle things, I thrived. Right now, I'm on my lunch break and had decided to go into what the Men in Green termed 'the game room'.

What I saw there was… well… beyond words.

The entire room was filled with various machines designed to provide entertainment to a wide variety of patrons. The games inside weren't any sort of gambling -which was rather common in Imperial encampments- or at least what I was used to. Various 'TVs' and 'entertainment consoles' lined the far wall while the other was lined with various games that I never saw before. The center was filled with various table games that I've never seen before, some of which had ethereal images instead of figures.

It was a lot to take in, I had to admit.

I simply wandered around, trying to pick what I would try first. That was when I heard something unusual, leading me to one of the 'entertainment consoles'. A bunch of Men in Green from Alnus Hill were playing a game from Remus Hill and are completely entranced by it.

"Welcome to Cologne kamaraden, for you are about to begin the greatest moment of your life. The Jacobins have lost hundreds of tanks and planes while Smith's brutalized hordes are climbing over mountains of their own dead bodies.

The Kaiser, our glorious fatherland, have given us the task to ensure that the enemy doesn't reach the Rhine and defend the city of Cologne!"


I heard explosions in the background as images of fountains of water rose, the sounds of machines and weapons I could never imagine simply drowned the scene.

"Forward towards the unrelenting battle kamaraden! For Cologne, for the Fatherland, not one step back!"

The scene was horrifying to my eyes, an entire city -bigger than Saldera itself- burning. Numerous boats and barges floated across the massive river, escorted by armed boats armed with weapons that I couldn't recognize. One of the barges was ravaged by an explosion while several of the escorts were pummeled by what looked like outright magic.

"Do not count days, do not count kilometers, count only the number of revachists you have killed! Kill the revachists, this is your mother's prayer! Kill the Jacobin, this is the cry of your German earth! Never let up kamaraden! Kill! Death to the revachist invader!"

That was when I heard numerous replies outright repeating the last sentence. It was simply chilling to my ears. That was when one of the waiters -who was also from the Gate on Remus Hill- saw me simply mesmerized by the scene playing in front of me.

"Ah, interested in the Siege of Cologne level from Cross of Iron: Finest Hour?" one of the Iron Pact legionaries asked.

"I, ah…" I scrambled back, trying to think of an answer, "maybe?" The legionary simply chuckled as he shook his head.

"You're not the only one then," the legionary answered, "we've got American and Japanese soldiers from this Gate practically scrambling over each other to learn more. I haven't seen a computer room constantly filled in years. They've been causing the civ-net to start lagging." Then the legionary smirked. "Still getting used to everything, right?"

I bowed my head. "Yes," I answered meekly.

"You're not the only one, everyone from the Empire has been having some problems adjusting to everything," the legionary commented, "despite trying to not throw you into the deep end, we're still doing it." The legionary rubbed the back of his head.

"It is still better than what I was doing in the Empire," I stated, "You're going to get a lot of people in the towns just by the reputation of being fair…" The legionary simply nodded in agreement.

Fort Portal, Remus Hill; 22:00 Hours

The 'Iron Pact' is something that I'm still trying to understand, their reasons of existence, their politics, their goals…

… and understand the strangeness that is 'Hauptmann' Neumann.

This one man has kept defying what I know as logic. This man is different than anything I've ever encountered. Then there is this aura around him, making him even more of an enigma. Everyone in the castra has been incredibly tight lipped about Hauptmann Neumann. My -and the warrior bunnies that managed to smuggle themselves here- investigations kept hitting stone walls, a lot of this man's career is locked behind the term 'classified'. What little that the warrior bunnies and I could dig up show that he is an incredibly powerful shaman. Almost stupidly so. He is also an incredibly capable warrior, and either of these facts does not jive with his calm, simple, introverted demeanor. There is just something off about him. After we returned from 'Berlin', Rory had told me her fears. Few things got her afraid, and this man is one of the few that did.

So, what is the enigma that is 'Hauptmann' Neumann? Few things would get Rory all riled up, and fewer things on that list would make her afraid. If Rory is right and 'Hauptmann' Neumann is more than a shaman, then things are absolutely guaranteed to get complicated and fast. Shamans can talk to those who have not left without much penalty, but those that are shamans, but more are the sort to even take down gods. Not knock them out or lock them into a container, but genuinely kill gods. There has only been one of those since Rory started her trek to godhood, and that one individual left quite an impression on her.

That was when I felt that something happened. Something terrible. I quickly got out of my seat and went to 'Hauptmann' Neumann's room and saw him in absolute agony. I quickly call upon my powers to see what is wrong and… what I saw was something that even gods considered unnatural. How in Hardy's name did 'Hauptmann' Neumann get a reality shard bonded to him!?! I quickly racked my brain and frowned, it is bonded tight with his soul, so it would be tedious but doable. Thankfully, we Apostles have always kept a small cache of reality crystals on us just in case we find one of these damnable things. I quickly pull out one and prepared the ritual when someone came busting through the door.

It happened quickly, almost to the speeds of apostle-on-apostle combat. The unknown person quickly put a weapon to my head with the intent of using it while I quickly shifted myself to see the assailant. The man has a lanky and somewhat thin build, the lankiness betraying his well-earned muscles.

"Do anything and I'll blow your fucking head off," the man said in an incredibly interesting accent, "Slick and I go way back and if you caused him to have an event, they'll be hell to pay." I frowned at the implication, but with how much is not in the public record, 'Hauptmann' Neumann might have some particular enemies, enemies who would not be unwilling to force a reality shard to bond with someone's soul and damn the consequences thereof.

"If you want to save your friend," I flatly replied, "you better let go of me. Hauptmann Neumann has a reality shard bonding to his very soul. If that does not get removed before the process completes, he. Will. Die. He along with everyone within fifty mille when two realities clash with each other." I narrowed my eyes at this man, his willingness to protect his friend is commendable, but is likely going to land him into trouble. "I and Rory, as Apostles, will survive. If you want the blood of your forces and those settling around your castra on your hands, continue to keep me from doing this."

"Slick has been wrangling with what you call a reality shard for almost a decade and all of our attempts in removing it have failed," the man answered, "he has to take special drugs to keep it at bay. So, what are you going to do to Slick?"

"I was about to undertake a ritual to remove the reality shard," I answered, "first, I must drag the afflicted consciousness from the shard itself, after which I start in the extraction. The extraction will take all my power as an apostle and take a considerable effort, given how closely bonded the shard is to 'Hauptmann' Neumann's soul. Once I have removed the reality shard, I will put it into this crystal sphere. It is made from Elysium Quartz, and it is used for a handful of purposes including the storing of reality shards." The man simply frowned.

"Is it possible that I could go with you?" the man asked, "Given that I know this 'reality shard' better than you? That and Slick can be a bit… imprisonment happy if he has an event…" I kept my shock from becoming visible. 'Hauptmann' Neumann had been using the bonded reality shard as a prison? While ingenious, it is also one of the more… complicated… ways to ensure someone stays locked up for all eternity when all other methods had failed. The mages of Rondel had used that methodology only twice, and the two were incredibly powerful dark mages that could not be contained any other way.

"Since you're more knowledgeable about this reality shard," I answered, "I'll have to default to your experience. What is your name?"

"The name's Tony, Tony Delvecchio," the man answered with a smirk, "now let us go save Slick." I simply nodded and I focused and. We. Fell…

____

We managed to land in good order despite the circumstances, but the one thing that got my immediate attention was the powerful stench of rotten eggs and burnt decomposing corpses.

"I'll be frank here," Tony stated, "I've always hated dragging Slick out of this one."

"He had more than one?" I asked in dispirit surprise.

"We removed them, but it's always this one that defied us," Tony responded, "Also, welcome to the city of Cologne, in the year 1921 Anno Domini. Thankfully, Slick isn't having a replay episode."

"A what?" I exclaimed in an astonished tone, "Wait, do you mean what usually happens with a reality shard? Just how strong is Centurion Neumann?" Tony simply smiled in understanding as he looked above the rubble.

"Slick has always been something of a helper despite the power he wields," Tony answered, "even if it meant it would kill him and never had the power go to his head. I first met Slick back when we were kids, and he was hopping from base to base like all military kids did. Helped me and my sister understand our powers and have been friends ever since. Now, let us get to Cologne Cathedral, Slick will be there, I promise you." Tony then pointed to the tallest temple that I have ever seen. "We better get moving, that is unless you want to see how much of a shitshow this siege was by seeing it firsthand." That was when I noticed a presence, a very recognizable presence.

While Tony and I skirt through the ruins, I reached out to make sure that the presence is not what I think it was. My fears were somewhat confirmed, for it was one of his underlings. If I could feel that, then the local pantheons would have seen it like it was naked in broad daylight. When I get this damnable thing into the crystal, I will have to get this information to the gods as soon as possible.

As we moved closer to the temple, I started to hear singing in what sounded like ancient Saderan.

"Yep, Slick isn't in a replay episode," Tony smirked, "He always makes sure that anyone rescuing him will be fast-forwarded to the moment that this song is sung. Fitting too, given that this is one of the darkest days of the Great War of Resistance."

"That's interesting," I commented as we neared what I assume was the front gate of the temple, "most temples don't have the acoustics to have it heard outside its walls."

"The funny thing is, we would have only been able to hear it a few blocks at most. Slick was always… different… when it came to his brand of paranormal. This is just one of many his intricacies." As we entered, the sight before me was unsettling as doctors and children ran about, the outlines of the former positions of immense benches still marked the floor. To have a temple turn into a hospital is… desperate. At the front of these was Hauptmann Neumann, mimicking the lead musician of the choir. Tony silently signaled me to allow him to finish.

The song had many emotions to it with a hefty amount of natural devotion and regal-ness to it. Being an Apostle opens a lot of senses that are not available to mortals, and what I am seeing is something beautiful. Even though I am in the middle of what this world considers war, my eyes slowly swell with tears. Tony is right about one thing, this is one of this world's darkest moments, and the choir song is a light in that dark moment.

It took a minute for the song to complete before Centurion Neumann stopped mimicking the choir leader.

"So, Tony, did you get Leo roped into a rescue mission?" Centurion Neumann asked as he walked towards us.

"Not really, Slick," Tony answered with a smirk, "He was just about to jump headfirst into saving your ass when I came barging in." Centurion Neumann snickered.

"Oh really?" Centurion Neumann said, "Well then, let's get out of here before something happens and we get stuck in the playback." With that, Tony muttered a few words after touching a door and we quickly exited…

____

We reappeared in Centurion Neumann's room, surrounded by people in rather simple-yet-extraordinary clothing… some of them pointing 'pistols' at my head.

"Oh, come on!" Tony said, "I know you guys from A Section are cynical and paranoid to a fault, but if I didn't blow this guy's brains out, then he's cool."

"Ah, sorry about that," the leader stated calmly, "we've had some particularly nasty characters try to use graf Neumann's condition to try to assassinate him. Due to the situation, we assumed the worst." Tony simply sighed.

"I know Slick far longer than you guys have," Tony sparred, "and that includes some of his abilities. Who do you think taught Angela and I how to use our abilities?" That was when Tony looked to me. "Alright Leo, how does your removal ritual work?"

I took a deep breath and slammed my hand onto the floor, creating a ritual circle around Centurion Neumann, shoving everyone else out of the way. "First, I create the ritual circle and put the crystal into position," I stated as I placed the Elysium Quartz into position on top of Centurion Neumann's stomach, "and second, the pain starts…" That was when the intense pain started. I gritted my teeth and plowed through it. Oh, I'm so going to feel this in the morning…

Fort Portal, Business Quarter; October 5th, 2017

The number of businesses in the "Iron Pact's" castra is something different compared to the Saderan Mondi Operus when it came to castra. The basic principles stayed the same, but the design and layout were radical by anyone's metric here in Falmart. The biggest difference is the various shops not operated by the legions, like the one I am entering right now. Now, from what I have been told in the tour, this is a music shop and while it was hard to settle in, I never got to looking through the store. It would be a change of pace to simply look at how my other doctorate in musical science applies to those of the other-worlders.

As I entered the store, a tone signaled my entry into the store… something that I note that stores in our and their worlds apparently share quite a few things in common. There was a man at a circular desk, overseeing much of the store while talking to a customer as several other people simply made sure everything was in order, something that both civilizations shared but only real difference being scale. Only the music stores of Rondel operate in a similar scale, and only due to Rondel's status as a mage metropolis. There were only a handful of customers in the store, most of them from the 'US-Japan Coalition' or the 'Iron Pact', with only a handful of local bards simply milling about.

That was when I saw something peculiar, a rather large instrument on some sort of stout stage. It looked like some of the instruments that two or three of the richest music-field mages were tinkering with, but it is also something different from a glance. The instrument's shape was far more deliberate than the ones being tinkered with, it gleamed in the sunlight like if it was polished metal… while the underside of the instrument's lid showed it was made of wood, indicating a laminate… or at least lacquered. Interesting, as previous attempts to utilize lacquered wood were fraught with failure, meaning that the 'Men in Green' have far more experience in building instruments with lacquered wood.

I walked up to the instrument, inspecting it closely, absorbing the craftwork for all its worth. It is fantastical craftsmanship, and the sound it made when I tapped one of the keys was just beautiful, only one instrument like this one had ever made that sound back home. I took a seat and then started experimenting. I kept testing the limits of this instrument, trying to find what can and cannot be done. I was so into this experimentation that I did not notice the ever-growing crowd around me.

"That is some pretty decent music that you've played there, miss," a somewhat recognizable voice said with a thick, sharp accent, "It isn't all that common to have someone able to simply sit down and play a harpsicord like an experienced professional would, given the picture that our interviews of the numerous bards and playwrights had painted for your musical sector." That was when he nervously laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Where are my manors, the name's Yōji Yamamoto, owner of this fine establishment."

"Wait, you own this store?" I asked meekly, "I… I did not know that this is yours! Please forgive me for trying it without permission!" I was about to go into an apology rant when Yōji put his hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, its fine," Yōji soothed, "It's out because it is meant to be played by passerby. Now, may I ask the name of the music that you've played?"

"It doesn't have a name yet," I answered, "I've been working on it for weeks and still haven't perfected it. I'm a sound mage you see, and when I'm not exploring the interactions of music and magic, I'm writing music… although I haven't played on an instrument this finely made…"

"Well, we've got all sorts of instruments, although some of which can't be displayed here," Yōji commented, "… I'm being so rude, what is your name ma'am?"

"Amala of Árheimar, Mr. Yamamoto," I answered, "Doctor of Music and Magic, specialty in the interactions between magic and music." Yōji raised an eyebrow at my birth-city's name. "I was part of the group that came to investigate the two group of men in green… and I was interested in what this store has to offer." Yamamoto simply smiled.

"Oh, so your part of the group that everyone has been talking about," Yōji stated playfully, "can't resist the urge to see what's new in instruments then. You remind me of all sorts of people back home." That was when he stretched his fingers and pulled something out. "Then again, if there is anything that brings people together, its good music." That was when the little device began to sing.

The song that the device -which I assumed is something akin to a playback crystal- was playing is different compared to what I've previously experienced. While I have heard all sorts of songs in the various establishments, this was something I never heard of. It was, in a word, soothing. Soothing in the way only majestic beauty can bring. It went on for what felt like hours.

"What song was that?" I asked, "I've rarely heard such majestic beauty in my, life…" Yōji simply chuckled.

"That, Amala, is Chinese folksong whose name, when translated, is Jasmine Flower," Yōji answered, "Music is an amazing thing, for it is one of the few things that brings people together. It can be powerful, it can be beautiful, it can be awe inspiring. Whatever emotions you've felt, chances are there is a piece that uses, embraces, or embodies it."

"That is pretty interesting, Mr. Yamamoto," I commented, "and that is a beautiful name for such a beautiful song. Are there more that I can listen to?" Yōji raised an eyebrow at the question. "I am a Doctor of Music and Magic, and I didn't become one of the top doctors of my craft by not being inquisitive."

Yōji simply smirked.

"I'll have to ask a few people, but you might get your wish," Yōji answered, "By the way, the construction crews are currently putting the finishing touches on a concert hall down the way, once that's built you can listen to a few performances. You might be in for a real treat though; it has an instrument that can be accurately described as the building itself."

That got me extremely interested, "Tell me more about this instrument…" Yōji than began describing the instrument, and true to his word it can be accurately described as the building itself. I just must see it for myself…

Fort Portal, The War Room; October 6th​, 2017

Fiction has this unsettling tendency to make War Rooms these grandiose constructs, filled with rows upon rows of computers and holoplots and screens where legions of men and women type and click away, shifting through the immense data of the battlefield. The reality is… far different.

"I've seen my fair of war rooms, but this is far different than any I've been in," Major James Hammond commented as we walked towards the holoplot, "still, some of the gear is luxurious by our standards."

"I can believe that" I commented as we got to the holoplot, "Athena, get the current positions of our forces on Falmart if you would please."

"Understood General."

Soon the holoplot showed a translucent copy of our current maps, showing the positions of the numerous units in the field on Falmart.

"Now this is impressive," Hammond commented, "Stratospheric satellites I take it?"

"Yes," I answered, "while useless in most situations back home, they've got their uses here. Also allows us to stay in contact with the Vaterland IV out in Equestria. Which reminds me, we have got another list for you. From what we have been told, they're humans from your world that ended up in Equestria after the ship they were on ran aground near one of their cities."

"That's good to know," Hammond replied as he was handed the list, "Damn, some of these names are pretty important back home… and solve a few missing person cases as well." Hammond then shifted his vision to the holoplot. "It seems that your forces have been pretty busy. If I had to guess, you'll be cutting the Saldarian Empire in half by the end of next year." I smirked; Hammond was rather right on the money on the projections. "Although, I'm surprised that you are able to logistically handle the forces here. We're stuck with only a brigade-sized formation due to the GATE being such a bottleneck."

"One of the first things that we did with our GATE is let Wolfenstein take a gander at it, and they've managed to understand how it ticks. They have enlarged it enough to allow a decent wheeled logistics train through and are working on making one that would allow a rail connection," I answered, "That, from what I have been told, is ongoing. We had to literally disassemble our locomotives and reassemble them on this side to get our rail logistics started."

"Oh, that has to be a bitch and a half," Hammond sighed, "Especially given that you've got Blue Ridge and Big Boy locomotives on this side of the GATE. Even we balked at the idea of sending locos onto this side of the GATE just due to the headaches of transport."

"You didn't know the half of it. It took us a good two weeks to get those locomotives over, hauled to Berlin, disassembled, and then getting them shipped over," I agreed, "Then there are all the checks to make after reassembly. While they're a nuisance, the logistical capabilities more than make up for it."

Hammond smirked as he understood the reasoning. Railheads are the only true way to move the immense number of men and material an army required anywhere outside of ports. That was when Hammond noticed something. "What does these symbols here represent?" he asked, "I haven't seen symbols quite like that before."

"Ah, that's the various 'Black Numbers' that we've got to keep an eye on," I explained, "While your world considers the paranormal fantasy, we must treat any possible paranormal sighting seriously. Thankfully we haven't found a Psi-Memories lying about. That would make things far messier than anyone would like." Hammond simply nodded, understanding that there are differences between his world and mine. "Although, to be honest, we're kind of in uncharted territory with these two. A Black 12C is something we've known to be a possibility but haven't encountered. The other one is a broadcast of some kind using a variant of our World War 2 encryption, and a complete unknown. Wolfenstein has only started investigating, by sending a team from A Section no less." Hammond raised an eyebrow at the implied seriousness of the situation. "That reminds me, you'll be meeting the leader of a Wolfenstein team while we're here. She'll be overseeing any investigations and training at your hill."

"Anything about the attaché before I take her over to Alnus Hill?" Hammond asked, trying to get a read on the attaché before she arrived.

"Captain Delvecchio can be a little abrasive and cocky but she's one of the best," I answered, "Seen her work before and she can back up her talk and then some. She also loves baseball and I've seen her dominate games before." Hammond chuckled a little.

"So, I'm dealing with a fireball," Hammond chuckled, "Seen a few in my time, but I'm getting the feeling that she's going to be very memorable." That was when the doors to the war room opened.

"I'm just a memorable person," a woman said in a fairly thick Bronx accent, "So you're the attaché from Alnus Hill?"

"I am," Hammond answered, "and I believe you're Captain Delvecchio." Hammond extended his hand, hoping to shake Angela's hand.

"Captain Angela Delvecchio, at your service," Angela said as she shook Hammond's hand, "I hope you like grueling training, because that's what you're going to get with me."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," Hammond smiled…

Fort Portal, Wolfenstein Temporary Field Headquarters; later that day

I was pensive as I looked at the data that we would be going over today with my AugReal, and boy do we have a lot to go over today. A world where there's paranormal out the ass and we're not even far enough along with our 'paranorms are like people' social engineering project to keep things from getting problematic. We're just thankful that, currently, all fielded and reserved units had scored very high on the acceptance tests, although that is largely because psychics have been an ousted secret for a while now.

If people knew the sort of company that Aaron keeps and what he is… well… panic in the streets would be the best-case scenario.

"So, how is Agent Big Fire doing in terms of recovery?" I asked our empath, Agent Ivanova.

"Doing quite well, thankfully enough," Ivanova answered, "At least he wouldn't have to put that shit into his system anymore to keep the Colone Psi-Memory from killing him." I understood Ivanova's hatred with the drug that kept Aaron alive so long, given that an anti-Psi doctor gave her mother just enough of an overdose to cause her to commit suicide. "He's still in recovery, but he'll be back to a clean bill of health by the end of the day." That's fantastic news, given some of the HIPs that we've been encountering or given information on.

"That's good to hear," I smiled, "Hopefully we can get some information on some of the HIPs we've discovered already. Williams, what's the status on that Black 8?" The diminutive man sighed as he brought up the data to the conference's datanet.

"So far, we're at a loss," Agent Williams answered, "From the preliminary data analysis, we're likely looking at someone using a WW2 divisional radio set and using a variation of encryption from the same conflict. We've been making spotty contact with the user and from the sound of it, he is under the thumb of one of the Saldarian gods. Current theory on the sender is that he's from our neck of the woods, dimensionally." Everyone's eyebrows raised comically to their hairlines at that statement. Wolfenstein, GRU Division P, and the UID had occasionally encountered the dimensionally displaced, but they generally tend to be very far afield, so to speak. The possibility of someone from our neck of the woods is measured in a lot of zeroes on the right side of the decimal point. While everyone prepared for this sort of situation, it's another to be living in said situation.

"That is going to give us untold amounts of headaches in the future," Agent Oracle groaned, "although it could give us a viewpoint into the local Celestial situation."

"Yes," Williams butted in, "but due to the random nature of these calls -likely to ensure that the god in question doesn't get wise- this would be a very slow method of intelligence." Oracle reluctantly agreed with that statement. "Then there is the possibility that we might screw this up and alert the god our contact is beholden to and cause all sorts of problems. We can't set up our anchors yet due to possible adverse reactions with the locals or the forces from the other Earth." Everyone shivered at that statement, as the early days of reality anchor use had all sorts of effects on people. Hell, the list of effects of a badly optimized reality anchor is enough to make even the most hardened men to regurgitate their innards. "The medical checks we've been conducting have been going well, and we'll probably have a limited wide-area test run within a month." At least something is going our way on the paranormal side of this conflict. So far, we've only had to deal with delays of logistics, not anything overt.

It also helps that Agent Big Fire is around, we would probably be neck-deep into Celestial shenanigans if that weren't the case.

"That's good to hear," I stated, "Now, Smalls, what about the Black 12C that the alpine troops discovered?"

"We've managed to open the temple complex and have entered the main foyer," Smalls answered, "Given that our mapping drones have indicated that the complex is hyperspatial, we saw it would be prudent to prepare a basecamp for further exploration." Oh, please not be non-Euclidian, because those aren't enjoyable to map. "From the data we've gathered so far, it's only a Euclidian type hyperspatial construct similar to what was found by the UID back in 1977 at HSC1." I breathed a small sigh of relief, for having to tackle a non-Euclidian hyperspatial construct is an easy way to go insane. Even Big Fire can't stand how such constructs mess with one's spatial awareness. Mortal minds can't compute anything more than 3 physical dimensions, even modified ones like Big Fire.

"Thank the Celestial Council for small mercies," I sighed in relief, "What's the preliminary ETA of the complex's mapping?" Smalls frowned a little at the question.

"So far, we don't have an ETA, because we don't have the appropriate drones to map out such a construct. We've been barely able to get out of the main entrance complex, and even then, we've only mapped out some 1% of the place," Smalls answered solemnly, "If it is anything like S4, we're probably looking at years, if not decades before we map even half of it." Ah, yes, that little problem. We need someone who knows that place and currently the only possible lead is currently recuperating from nearly killing herself in trying to reach the place.

"Alright, just make sure we get everything we've seen logged, categorized, and left alone for now," I ordered, "Joshua, your team had to deal with some of the local paranormal, anything that isn't in the report?" Joshua perked up a little as he prepared to give some of his memories about the incident.

"Yesterday, at 07:30, we've encountered a major village -a small kingdom really- that is semi-autonomous from the Saldarian Empire," Joshua stated as he showed the images of the village in question, "We've managed to contact with the local leaders, and we've discovered something interesting. The local lord is a powerful mage that goes by the name of Guðný Dovahkiin and is one of the few major progressives -at least by the standards of the Saldarians and the medieval period- on the continent of Falmart. However, Dovahkiin is has taken a liking to curse anyone who tries to kill him or harms his subjects by turning them into… cows or minotaurs." That's one way to get rid of people. "Surprisingly enough, a fair number of locals ask to become minotaurs, largely to help everyone else. Why use bulls when you're the bull, so to speak." Everyone raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Given that she hates the Saldarians but only swore fealty to the Empire because they would slaughter her subjects… we're looking at another friendly on this world. We'll be contacting Cato soon to get a more rounded viewpoint on Dovahkiin."

"That would give us an opportunity to gauge how the local magical community is in terms of ethics and standards," Ivanova interrupted, "Given the general situation, its best to have our bases covered." With that, the meeting went well into the night…
 
Alright, status report: due to what has to be the longest bout of writer's block I've ever encountered on this one fic (note, I'm making all sorts of idea sketches but sitting down and trying to write something for this fic is just hitting a brick wall) and the events in Ukraine, the next chapter has been extremely slow going. I've got some snippet ideas that might interest you, though.

One snippet is basically a sort of wargame between US/Japan coalition pilots against Iron Pact pilots when, suddenly, a wild ghost ace appears. Another is, essentially, introducing you guys to the poles who would be leading the charge to save Italica, Winged Hussars (without the Sabaton song of the same name) style. A third is something of a viewpoint for the sort of Majesty/DnD bullshit that the locals have to deal with being encountered by Iron Pact soldiers and the material cost thereof...

... all of which is slow going. Though, ever since I discovered WARNO's soundtrack, it has been improving (though not by much). It might take some serious time before I get back to writing properly again. :(
 
Back
Top Bottom