Weightless, emotionless, powerless, and empty. Trapped in time and nothing else, Eric could think, but nothing else. He soon realized the truth. He had died. All the training, all the scenarios for warfighting and drills he had done with his soldiers meant nothing now. He thought back to 1SG's words about bringing the kids back home, and realized that would not be happening now, thinking about that, a tear ran down his face.
Wait, tear?
"Fu- huh?" Eric came to with a gasp, feeling his body, and then looking around. There was no pain, no sounds of gunfire, or the smell of burning bodies. He looked around, and noticed that a row of in perfect condition military vehicles stood. Each Humvee and LMTV pristine as if they had been hand delivered from a factory. In the back, the mammoth C-130s stood, towering over tanks, Bradley's, and all the other vehicles one would utilize in a heavy mechanized armored combat brigade.
Then, voices. The voices of men he had known for years. Guys he had trained with, bled with... and fought with.
"Yo, Dryer." A familiar, gruff voice called to Him. Eric turned around, sure enough, 1SG Hammond stood in front of him, uniform in perfect condition, and rifle at his side.
"Am I dreaming?" Eric says as he rubs his face.
Hammond scowls as he looks at the younger man "buckle your ACH fool." He says with a chuckle.
It was then that Eric noticed the kind of scenery they were in. Large, marble pillars spanned the full length of the room they were in. The ceiling was so high up, Eric had to crane his neck to see it. The floor was also a polished granite. There was not a single blemish. Eric then looked around, noticing the Battalion CSM standing… in front of the vehicles? "BATALLION, FALL IN!!!!"
"Alright! Get in formation!!!" Hammond growls as everyone forms up.
Discipline, muscle memory, and integrity showed in the next few minutes. Within those few minutes, every company and platoon was formed up in front of the Battalion CSM. "I know we are in unprecedented waters here, but 1SG's, get accountability." The CSM barked. No one argued, no one complained. When the tallying was done, the numbers rang clear: All soldiers assigned to the batallion were present, alongside them were 12 very confused Air force pilots. After accountability, the CSM called out for every NCO above squad leader level to join him, the battalion commander, and the Air Force pilots as well as all the officers. Eric jogged over to where the meeting would be besides his platoon leader; LT. Morales. Morales was a skinny latino american who stood at about 5'6 on his best days. Usually, he would be strutting and full of confidence, right now though? He looked like a high school student preparing for his final exams.
As Eric, Hammond, and Morales join the fray, chaotic chatter began with the obvious question. CSM Hernandez looked around and sighed. "What in the actual fuck do you think happened here?" His face seemed to age 20 years with that question alone. CSM Hernandez is a tall Caucasian man, he stands head and shoulders even above Eric, so he could see all around. The entire time he looked around, each observation seemed to make him question reality more.
The Air force pilot that had been piloting the Plane carrying 1SG Hammonds platoon was the first man to speak up. He looked around cautiously before speaking. "I don't know how or why, but I saw what I saw. We were all taken down in only a matter of minutes. The enemies seemed to know we were coming, and then all I remember is hundreds of missiles being in the sky."
There was a slight pause after the man had spoken as everyone digested the information. Hundreds of missiles meant that they could have had fighter jets escort them, and the outcome would have likely been the same. "Do we even have 100's of Manpads?" The battalion commander wondered out loud. No one answered.
One of the younger NCOs in the group, a younger woman named SSG Berthorne spoke up. She looked at the battalion commander and said, "Sir, if I may?" The BC nodded and gave her the "Go ahead." Nod. She then said "I believe we may have been transported to another world." Everyone in the circle turned to her with ludicrous eyes as if to say "Are you out of your mind?!!" She continues. "I am an avid reader, and I love watching anime. Some of my soldiers told me about some stories such as this, and sir… we all know it is impossible for an entire battalion to magically all show up in the same time, same place with all of our gear in pristine condition after suffering a massive surface to air attack. This is a classic story from an anime genre called 'Isekai', where the main characters of the story are summoned and pinioned for help by an actor or actors.'" As if on cue, A throne appeared in front of the heated debate. Every head turned towards the massive throne.
"HAHAHA, I knew it suckers! Pay up boys!" A voice called in from somewhere around an LMTV in the middle of the convoy. Groans could be heard from the unfortunate souls who had to pay cash on a bet that had unmistakably been made by some junior enlisted. The 1SG in charge of that company face palmed as he watched money be exchanged. "Only infantry…" He groaned while Hammond patted him on the back.
The throne matched the opulence of the room they were currently in. It was all white, with a phoenix engraved on the white arm rest, and a lion engraved on the left arm rest. Sitting on the throne was the most beautiful woman Eric had ever seen. Calling her beautiful would be an insult in his opinion.
"Good evening, soldiers of Earth." A soft, melodic voice reached the company. "My name is Goddess Triamal." The woman says as she looks down at the batallion.