[Twenty-sixth year of the Nightmare Spell: The Present]
"...ope…ur…ht!"
"Hope! To your right!"
"..!"
Hope jerked awake.
Cold air. Smoke and screams. A taste of mud and iron. The world slammed back into focus, rippling at all his senses to this hell.
A loose term, really. A comforting one as much as it was a curse. Everything was called hell these days. The endless somber skies, the squawking paunchy sergeant, the cold wintry nights, or the sweltering hubs. Hell.
But tonight was different. It was as if Hell birthed its bastards.
To his far right, a silhouette skittered through the fog. A shape of too many limbs, eyes like silver moons, charged toward him with ferocious speed and—
Bang!
Bullet landed first.
He pulled the trigger without thought, like something else buried inside him had woken just as hungry.
He had woken...?
'I fell...asleep?'
He stepped back and his foot caught on a twisted arm. He frowned at the dismembered parts at his feet, kicking aside a rolling head. There were plenty of those around too.
Right, they were being ambushed.
Kieeeeeeeeeek!
And there were more where that Nightmare Creature came from.
Across the wasteland, screams and gunfire rang into the night. He could barely hear his teammates through the noise: 'On your six!' someone said. 'Convoy Seven to Command! We've lost contact with Escort Two—' 'Hold the front!'
Somehow, for a moment, Hope drifted off. Trading this for a sweet, numbing slumber. How could he be so careless? It was a fool's mistake to make on any battlefield.
Although he supposed he had a good excuse for it…
He clenched his teeth beneath his masked helmet, blinking against the drowsiness.
'Ah dammit. Of course I'm infected…'
He didn't think much of it at first. Soldier life wasn't of course easy and demanded his undivided attention, whether it was being on active grounds or patrolling behind stone walls. Periods of four hours of sleep or thirty minutes. Maybe even ten.
This routine more or less worked for him.
So, it didn't occur to him that, at the beginning of the day, him feeling sleepy would forebode the chance of having his First Nightmare.
This drowsiness was as if 'something' was shackling his mind, and at the most inconvenient of times.
Tonight was like any other night, or was supposed to be.
The constant travel between land and sea was the usual side duty Hope took on. He and his team were assigned to escort artillery to the port of Acheron. From there, fortified cargo ships called Arks would ferry the equipment to Quadrant III: Asia, their primary trading partner.
There were six Quadrants in total: North America the first; South America the second; Asia the third; Africa the fourth; Australia the fifth; and Antarctica the sixth.
On paper, the future of Quadrant I seemed more likely doomed. Sea levels rose, swallowing the east and south where hundreds of their most populated cities nested. And compared to other continents, half of Quadrant I had already sunk into the ocean, Europe being the first Atlantis of their age, so they say.
But it sounded worse than it was.
People were thriving to the best of their Awakened abilities. An extraordinary progress compared to life a decade ago. Death to anyone who disobeyed. Only a number of people were permitted in settlements, but even then, their hunger ate their brains alive. But with new regimes and promised Awakened warriors—even with Masters now—civilization wasn't impossible anymore. In fact, few cities were returning to normal.
Well, Hope wasn't sure what 'normal' was compared to life before the Spell. And if people had enough currency, they could board the Arks to the next Quadrant.
A luxury not many had.
But the main problem now was this annoying Category Two Gate that opened in the middle of their convoy. More than half of their vehicles had been destroyed, and that left four from the head of the march with Hope's team and fellow soldiers.
It all happened in the blink of an eye:
Tearing through reality like a spatial wound, the gate opened, its edges blooming colors that hurt the eyes. It growled like the belly of a titan and roared them downhill off the trackway. 70% of their soldiers dead. Convoy Commander dead. They all lay comically as corpses do. Some reaching for their brother-in-arms, others frozen mid-writhing in the mud, down to their graves or up for borrowed time.
What Hope didn't understand was why they took this route in the first place.
Whether the change of route was in the best interest of Command, their odds weren't in their favor. Why the pressure to take this route? How could they make a mistake in finding the safest trajectory? Artillery wasn't cheap. Their technology wasn't that rusty, was it? Something wasn't adding up.
The questions were beginning to tire him, somehow encouraging the Spell's whisper even more: Sleeeeeep.
'Shut up.'
A shadow suddenly reeled to his side. There was a moment's decision to blow its head off or to strangle the malevolent life out of it. He sensibly chose the third option, because it wasn't a creature he should fear.
A humorous one, really.
"Sleeping on the job, Team Leader? You really can sleep anywhere," GA-015 said, a smile ringing in his voice.
Hope reached for his knife, throwing it at a leaping goblin's navel. It yelped, then face-planted. "Still alive and breathing."
GA-015 was a second ahead of him and shot its head. "And we'd like to keep you that way." Hope could feel his sideglance under the mask. "But now don't sound so disappointed. You're breaking my heart."
"I am ecstatic."
"Haha! That's the spirit!"
Kieeeeeeeeek!
The ground thump- thumpthump- as another monster, unfortunately three times his size, screeched from the fog. Racing toward them, its stony carapaces deflected bullets like an immovable mountain. He recognized it: an awakened beast.
Knowingly, he shot between the crevices of its armor. It screamed, reaching out with its large pincer that could snap a man's body like a twig. But then it dropped, its flesh beneath bubbling bloody gobbets.
Tink. Tink.
A clicking sound came from his rifle like the taunt of snapping fingers.
He didn't need to think what that meant; his body responded like the trigger itself. He tossed the magazine, where it bounced off a man's blown-off torso, then slapped in the last ammo from his chest rig.
He and every other soldier opened fire at the wave of monsters.
Only the first wave…not even the second, and they were hanging by a thread.
The gates let the Nightmare Creatures out in waves. The first wave was mostly dormant beasts. Hundreds, even thousands, with a sprinkle of awakened beasts, poured out. The second wave, though, was completely charged with the awakened class.
What was worse was this fog blocking their sight for a quarter of a mile. And the gate's uninvited appearance was disrupting their GPS signal.
They didn't exist on the map anymore.
They were dead.
Grrrerskhkss…
Somewhere above, the gate still bellowed its pained screams. It sounded like the fabric of space being carved alive.
Ah, how ominous…What was it, 5 minutes? 10? The second wave would be coming soon.
Dormant beasts would be fine, doable even, if hundreds of those monsters hadn't used them as stepping stones. If by some miracle they got through the second wave, they'd have to deal with the Guardian of the gate. Who the hell knew what type of monster they'd deal with. A Devil? A Titan? The situation was long out of their hands the moment the gate appeared.
They would have to do it the classic way:
Bulldoze through.
Once the first wave began to die down, he called out to his team.
"Hey! Regroup whoever we have left and fall back. GA-014, take the lead and cut through the left flank! Reset course and find the damn trackway!" It was time to get the hell out of here. There should be another senior officer next in line after their commander, but they were either dead or all shaken to their boots. He could smell some of their piss from here.
GA-015 looked to him. "Hey, what about-"
Bang!
A monster's brain burst from Hope's gun.
"Move it!"
"On it, Team Leader," GA-014 answered. His usual gentle voice now rumbled with authority. "All units, on me! We're pushing left hard and fast! 012, take the Rear Guard."
A female voice echoed, "You four, cover the lead vehicle's six! Pick up your feet. Let's go, let's go, you daisies!" GA-015 yelped when GA-012 yanked him by the collar.
They fell into tight formation and arced through the mud as Hope fired the last stragglers. Already the gate was growling to heave the next wave. Why couldn't it stomach the bastards just a little longer?
He retreated steadily, not once loosening on the trigger. The wet ground sucked at his boots, fog swallowing each muzzle flash.
Then something came out of its mouth.
BAM!
It hit him like a truck.
He fell down face-first. Cold mud swallowed his helmet, seeping beneath his collar. No longer could he see or hear anything but the ringing in his ears. And this ache...The pain was bright and burning. Pain was good. It kept him awake.
Rolling onto his hands and knees, he smeared the mud from his visor. Before him, a snarling face emerged. A bullet hole gaped in its skull, a knife jutting from beneath its stomach—
Hope paused.
Why...
It was the same fucking goblin.
Gkrrrr!
The goblin lunged. Jaws snapped for his shoulder. He shoved an arm across its throat, claws raking across his vest, and he punched it in the face.
Once.
Twice.
The goblin's head whipped sideways.
It came back.
He punched again.
He had thought he'd put close combat behind him. Apparently not.
This creature had such an alien yet stubborn will. That mindless pursuit to destroy. But likewise.
He crashed into the goblin and they went down, struggling. Their teeth bared. For a moment there was no soldier. No monster. Just two animals swimming in mud and blood.
His hands finally found the rifle and wrenched it free from the sloppy earth.
The goblin saw it. Too late.
He jammed the barrel against its cheek.
Bang!
Its face tore open.
One eye widened, baffled—
Bang!
The skull snapped backwards, hands spasmed—
Bang!
He stared down at it.
'How will I know when it's dead?' Could it survive more than one bullet to the head? He must use his hands then to tear it. Or maybe its heart.
Before he could reach for the knife buried in its stomach, the engines ahead roared to life, eyes beaming a dim light.
His teammates started to shout to him:
"Team leader!"
"Hurry!"
"Get back to the convoy!"
'Obviously.' He shoved the body aside and forced himself upright. To hell with being a martyr.
Throwing his last grenade at a horde, he sprinted back towards the last vehicle, grabbing the rear as they drove off.
They were lucky that simple grenades and bullets worked on dormant beasts, but the effect would only lessen when their rank increased. It was all about luck on the battlefield for average human soldiers. They couldn't always rely on the Awakened cohorts.
Now would be a good time as any, though.
BOOM!
A loud explosion reverberated behind them. Hope held tight onto the rail; the cold wind hugged his bones and numbed his nose and hands. He looked up to see his two teammates kneeling on top of the carrier as they and the rear guard fired at the tailing monsters.
Hope was about to give another order when the world spiraled. His vision swimming.
Everything became hazy, images blending into one foggy mess. Sounds drowned out.
The supernatural drowsiness returned with a vice on his sanity. He could feel its claws on his mind, on his eyes. Cradling him. Whispering. Whispering that sweet slumber spell.
He was becoming detached from the world, emptying like a hollow shell.
It was all peaceful enough to give in.
To let go–
Boom! Boom!
Peace time was over.
They crashed through the flank of monsters, bodies flying aside.
Kroooaarr!
Hope cursed at the whispers and shot the creatures climbing onto the hatch. They were hound-like, hairless bodies with toned muscles throughout their limbs.
But they were only dormant beasts. Easily subdued with just the right number of bullets, they dropped one by one like a pebbled trail.
The convoy picked up speed when they found the trackway again. The monsters still gave chase, but the distance grew bigger and bigger.
And after what seemed to be an eternity, the roars echoed far off into the night.
He looked back, and the figures vanished behind the slopes.
Finally, they escaped.
"Sigh…" Hope rested his head against the rail.
The next thing to do was to report back to Command about this dead zone area and have one of the Awakened cohorts handle the situation. It was no longer his problem. 'Leave it to the experts', they'd say.
"Team leader…?" GA-012 called. There was a hint of worry. Probably wondering why he still hung back on the rear like a camped flea.
'Just resting my eyes.'
"Contact Command for assistance." Hope spoke, words beginning to slur. "Report back the incident and the coordinates of the Category Two Gate-"
"Team leader, we're not getting any response over the COM channels."
"..."
Rest time was also over.
He climbed up the rear and crouched with her on the roof. He glanced at the other soldiers who were catching their breath on the other carriers.
"What do you mean no response?"
They were far from the gate, weren't they? Even if the signal was poor, a distress signal would suffice.
"Exactly what I mean." She fiddled with the radio on her lap.
His other teammate, GA-015, returned from aiding the other soldiers. "Maybe we're still within range of the Category Two Gate. That could be damaging the transceiver, Team leader. It is right between them and us."
'Plausible but...'
Hope asked for the radio from GA-015 and clicked onto the COMs. "West Base, this is Escort One. Emergency traffic. Do you copy?"
Nothing.
"Command, this is Escort One. Do you copy?
GA-015 hummed. "Out of range then. Can't be helped."
"No," GA-012 mumbled, "I can still hear the Command channel."
Hope switched frequencies. "West Base Command, Escort One. We have encountered a Category-Two Gate. Repeat, a Category-Two. We've withdrawn from engagement. Request instructions." Static. "Command, acknowledge."
"This is reassuring." GA-015 forced a tune.
GA-012 snarled. "They're ignoring us."
"Lunch break perhaps. Or nature called."
She waved off his joke. "I can picture our reliable Major now. Full dress uniform. Paunchy. Lined face, broad waist, thinning hair that son-of-a—"
"The portal's interfering with us," Hope cut in a drawled tone. "But it isn't killing the signal. If it were, we wouldn't be transmitting at all."
GA-012 snapped her fingers pointedly at GA-015. He raised his hands. "I'm open to optimism, anyone."
Hope paused and cocked his head. "Four vehicles...three cargos remaining," he murmured.
It was against orders to open the cargo, but at this point, they might need to use the ammunition if they crossed another horde.
Or not. But it was best to prepare for the worst. He would like to survive.
Hssssssst...
Strangely, he thought he could hear a sea of whisperers nearby. He shook his head at the noise.
It couldn't be from the gate, could it? Not this far. Besides, only Awakened heard this sort of Call from a gate. Something that they described as being lured by a seed on the other side.
'Not my problem then.'
He glanced at the other vehicles, all banged up.
The front head of the march, or what was left of it, was terribly wrecked. But the other two cargo vehicles were in such bad shape that he wondered if any of their artillery was damaged. He'd like to know that there wasn't any possibility that they could detonate. What a smoky farewell it'd be.
Streaked claw marks dragged across the side doors that were just deep enough to probably…
He stood up in resolve.
"Check the vehicle for any salvageable ammunition, extra rifles, or crates of frag grenades. Any damaged artillery must—"
Clang!
"T-Team Leader!?"
"Team Leader!"
Hope collapsed to one knee and struck the stock of his rifle to balance himself.
No. No. No. He couldn't sleep now.
Voices from his teammates arose. They were muffled. Soft, like when one's head was underwater. The only sound he heard was his heart. Thundering like an impending storm.
"Check on the cargo…Now…"
Hope didn't know why, but he had a feeling they should.
It was more important than him struggling to stay awake.
In his peripheral vision, one of his teammate's silhouettes paused, then gestured for the other to follow and climb down the vehicle.
Hope recalled that his other teammate, GA-014, was at the head of the march helping guide the course and probably checking on the rest of the soldiers in need of aid.
Not that they could do much anyway.
The medical vehicles were at the rear of the convoy before the Category Two Gate appeared so full treatment wouldn't be offered until they reached the port's Naval Base.
Hope bit down on his lip till he could taste the warm blood on his tongue.
None of this should have happened.
Hope wasn't one to drown in emotions, and he didn't feel particularly emotional now either. He was indifferent to his work because it was simple and repetitive. The Major knew that, regarding this mission more of a routine logistics matter, not a true military operation. As far as he knew, these types of missions went smoothly.
But why not this one?
From the odd route they were assigned by Command to the lack of awareness and consideration of weather conditions that affected the performance of their march, it seemed as if something else had been put into play. But what...?
'Move…' An instinctive voice whispered.
Hope tiredly went to reach for his blade—a cut would suffice—but then recalled he tossed it back at the field.
'Shit shit shit-'
Maybe he could use a gun to wake up?
'Wait. The hell am I thinking?'
Hope staggered to his feet and looked down at his teammates opening the rear.
Their voices suddenly rang out as if something truly alarmed them.
Was the damage that bad inside? His teammates weren't ones to be easily startled.
But Hope lost the urge to speak and to understand them anymore through his mind's haze. They were but a soft buzz in his ear as he watched them blankly.
Step.
Part of his mind said he should check.
Step.
What was down there?
Ste—
Hope's body swayed. His feet awkwardly shifted to one side and then…air.
Nothing but gravity accompanied him.
For a few moments it was free fall, his body weightless like dust in the wind.
Then, pain shot through him. He felt the urge to scream.
But no cry came out. The feeling itself vanished just as it came.
Everything went black. Numb. Silent.
Before Hope could even process what just happened, a voice resounded somewhere in the void:
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]