EASRS Zero Z
Chapter 6 – Back to the Present
Texas – United States of America
Deep beneath the soil of Texas, far beyond the reach of sunlight, a colossal cavern opened its maw like the jaws of an ancient beast. The air was thick, cold, and damp. Water droplets fell endlessly from the towering stone ceiling, each plip… plip… echoing through the darkness as though the earth itself were whispering.
The cavern walls were coated in dark moss and clinging lichen, fused to the stone like scars carved by time. The ceiling stretched hundreds of meters overhead, swallowed by absolute blackness—a void that seemed to devour the gaze of anyone who stared into it for too long.
Then, the silence was torn apart.
A diesel engine roared from within the darkness—heavy, brutal, and unforgiving.
Blinding beams of light cut through the void as a column of M2A3 Bradley fighting vehicles advanced into the cavern. Their yellow-tinted armor reflected the headlights dimly. Steel tracks crushed through shallow water reaching ankle height, mud and moss splattering across their hulls.
The grinding of metal against stone reverberated violently through the enclosed space, merging into a single, deafening howl—like a pack of wolves charging through the abyss.
No one noticed it—
Until it was far too late.
Suddenly, the entire cavern ignited with light.
Rows of concealed industrial LED panels embedded high within the ceiling flared to life simultaneously, their cold white glow flooding the cavern like a silent verdict being passed.
Immediately after, machinery awakened.
And then—
Hell opened fire.
A barrage of 25mm autocannon shells rained down from above, carving blazing red trails through the air. The Bradleys' armor was pierced as easily as paper. Explosions chained together, shaking the cavern to its core.
Shells drilled straight into engine compartments and fuel systems. Vehicles erupted in fireballs, steel plates twisting and tearing apart as thick black smoke poured upward.
From the rocky outcrops surrounding the convoy, Mk38 cannons revealed themselves—like fangs hidden in the beast's jaws. Their barrels glowed white-hot as another salvo thundered forth, drowning the trapped vehicles in a crimson inferno.
A sea of fire swallowed everything.
A few crews reacted in time. Turrets snapped toward the cliffs, returning fire in desperate retaliation. Stone shattered, rock formations collapsed, flames and debris erupting outward. Several Mk38 positions were destroyed.
But it was only an illusion of hope.
From deeper within the darkness, more concealed gun emplacements opened fire. Interlocking kill zones formed instantly—a wall of fire, sealing every escape route and transforming the cavern into a massive incinerator.
The remaining M2A3s, their hulls riddled with holes, were forced to retreat. Engines screamed in agony as they pulled back through smoke and wreckage—like wounded beasts fleeing a hunter's trap.
---
Rear Line – Temporary Encampment
At the rear line, within a makeshift base of military tents, chaos spread rapidly. Communication terminals flashed red without pause. Emergency signals flooded in one after another.
Radio operators rushed between stations, voices overlapping, commands breaking apart mid-sentence before reforming again. Orders were shouted, repeated, overridden.
Outside, armored vehicles began powering up. Engines growled to life, ready to deploy toward the battlefield at a moment's notice.
Amid this tension stood a young man, barely in his twenties, leaning lazily against a metal light pole.
He wore a white lab coat—utterly out of place on a battlefield. His hair was jet black like burnt ash at the top, fading into snow-white strands below, creating an unsettling contrast. Beneath the coat were a black dress shirt and dark slacks, immaculate and restrained.
His expression was calm. Detached.
As if the chaos around him held no meaning at all.
A radio crackled from the pocket of his coat.
He sighed and pulled it out with practiced indifference.
Scrop
> "Yeah? What the hell do you want?"
A soft female voice answered—gentle, polite, almost obedient. Yet beneath its sweetness lurked something sharp and calculating. Honeyed words… hiding fox's fangs.
Miho
> "Good evening, Scrop-sama~
I'm Miho Satou.
Recently transferred from Outpost 31, Japan Branch, to Base 16 under the personnel reallocation program."
Scrop narrowed his eyes slightly, irritation flickering across his face.
Scrop
> "Get to the point. I don't have time."
Miho paused, feigning hesitation. Her voice trembled—an obvious act—yet beneath it lay faint mockery.
Miho
> Sasuga, go-rikai ga hayai desu ne…
(As expected, you understand things very quickly.)
GAM Organization is assigning you a mission:
support the frontline forces and eliminate the security systems of Arthritis Corporation to assist troop movement.
Scrop let out a cold scoff.
He slammed his fist into the rock wall behind him.
A long crack spread instantly, stone crumbling as debris fell. The cavern ceiling groaned ominously, as if it might collapse at any moment.
Scrop
> "Hah. They've really fallen that far, huh?"
Miho giggled softly, her voice sweet—yet unmistakably mocking.
Miho
> Doko made mo massugu na kata nan desu ne…
(You really are straightforward to the very end.)
Please enjoy your mission~
The transmission cut off abruptly.
Scrop stood still for a moment… then let out a quiet, derisive laugh.
Scrop
> "Tch… GAM didn't even pay for decent signal coverage again?"
…Fine. I'll help them.
He pulled out his phone, lazily opened Messenger, typed "Wife" into the search bar, and selected his chat with Valeria.
> "Honey, I'll be home late tonight. Something came up at the front."
The message failed to send.
No signal.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, expression unchanged—
as if war itself were nothing more than another routine task.
---
Back inside the cavern—
before Scrop had arrived.
The battlefield resembled the aftermath of an execution.
Shattered armored vehicles lay scattered across the cavern floor, twisted frames piled atop one another like the corpses of steel beasts. Burnt-black human remains were strewn among the wreckage, fused to the metal by extreme heat. The air was thick with the stench of scorched iron, vaporized flesh, and lingering gunpowder.
The fires had not yet died.
Under the flickering orange glow of the flames, the cold mechanical hum of still-operational systems echoed endlessly. Hidden among the jagged rock formations, the barrels of Mk38 autocannons continued to rotate with inhuman patience, tracking even the smallest movement.
They were not searching for enemies.
They were ensuring that no survivor, no matter how unlucky or persistent, would escape the invisible wall of fire concealed within the stone.
Then—
The cavern shuddered violently.
The ground cracked open with a thunderous roar. Dust, rubble, and shattered stone erupted upward as if the earth itself were screaming. Light poured in from above—real light, faint and pale—the distant blue of the sky briefly revealed through a collapsing section of the cavern ceiling.
From within the storm of dust, something emerged.
A spear, glowing crimson like freshly spilled blood.
It descended silently, suspended for a fraction of a second—
and then collapsed inward, shattering into thousands of razor-sharp red blades.
They did not fly randomly.
The fragments moved with terrifying precision, slicing through the air in overlapping trajectories. In less than a heartbeat, they pierced every visible Mk38 position.
A series of scarlet flashes ignited simultaneously.
Explosions followed—violent, blinding, and absolute.
The darkness of the cavern deepened, as if all light had been forcibly drawn into the detonations themselves. Sound vanished, swallowed by the overwhelming pressure of destruction.
When the explosions ceased, silence returned—thick and suffocating.
The crimson blades converged once more, flowing backward through the air as if guided by an unseen will, reforming into their original shape.
Longinus.
Those few who had survived on the cavern floor—burned, wounded, trembling—lifted their heads instinctively. Through the shattered ceiling, they glimpsed a fragment of the open sky, weak and distant, like hope that did not belong to them.
Then—
A long, piercing metallic screech tore through the air.
From the ashes rose another weapon.
Cassius.
Its spear-shaft gleamed with a deep jade-green hue, unmarred by soot or fire. Without warning, the weapon split apart—dividing into four separate barrels, rotating once in perfect synchronization.
A single pulse followed.
A blue energy beam erupted outward, sweeping across the battlefield in a wide arc.
Metal liquefied instantly.
Human bodies were carbonized on the spot, reduced to brittle silhouettes before collapsing into ash. Pools of water flashed into steam, evaporating violently as the beam passed through.
When the energy dissipated, nothing remained intact.
As the last embers faded, a lone figure stepped forward.
Sora.
She stood calmly amid the devastation, wearing a perfectly tailored suit—clean, untouched, utterly out of place in a landscape of ruin. Her expression was unreadable as her eyes scanned the cavern with detached precision.
She raised one hand slowly.
Cassius and Longinus began to dissolve, their solid forms melting into fluid light, flowing seamlessly toward her. In seconds, both weapons vanished—absorbed completely into her body, leaving no external trace, as if they had never existed at all.
At that exact moment—
The sound of rotor blades thundered from above.
Heavy air was displaced as transport helicopters hovered overhead. Massive steel pulleys descended from the darkness, lowering M2A3 armored vehicles painted in glossy black, emblazoned with the EASRS Foundation insignia.
They touched down one by one.
The next phase had begun.
---
[To be continued]