Chapter 241 - My CO Stash #41 - Heteromorph in Worm by Akallas von Aerok (WormXOverlord) (1/2)
-I'm surprisingly enjoying this OC with the Overlord Gamer System as his power/trigger, and since the author is Akallas you already know he bound to be OP asf~ It doesn't only focus on Brockton Bay like other Worm fics too which is a refreshing take!
Sypnosis: Maruyama-Overlord Style Power for a Cauldron Agent
Rated: ???
Words: 12K
Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/heteromorph-in-worm-overlord-maruyama-worm.793891/#post-61856674/ (Akallas von Aerok)
PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)
-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)
Chapter 1-3 (exceptional)
I stared at the contract in front of me and the person who offered it to me.
It was … incredulous. Fantastical. Unrealistic.
”And what is the cost of accepting this exchange?” I asked, gesturing with my weak left arm at the contract.
My name was David, and I am a cancer patient. I wasn't a normal cancer patient, though; I was a terminal cancer patient. By a fault not of my own but rather an uncaring people who didn't even realize that they were dumping mutagens into the river, I have acquired three different types of cancers by eating plants grown that were watered from the same river, even after filtration and treatment. As great as modern innovations like filtration and water treatments were, they weren't perfect and things slipped through. I, out of a million people, was the victim.
I hadn't even realized that I had cancer until I just collapsed one day. According to the doctors, my balanced and healthy diet was the only reason why I hadn't collapsed earlier because I started not with three cancers but five cancer sites.
Miraculous, I know. My own diet was good enough to kill two sites but there was only so much diet could do against a host of problems.
So when I collapsed and they admitted me to the hospital, they scanned me and found where the cancers were and how far they were along.
Lung.
Heart.
Guts.
All terminal.
Upon hearing all of that, I grieved. Rather, I allowed myself to grieve for a single day. I spent the last month tying up loose ends.
Businesses, houses, lands, stocks. Nothing mattered when I was next in line to die.
But here this person was, offering me a deal.
I have been offered a deal, and the statement was thus.
'In exchange for curing you and giving you a supernatural ability, you will work for us.'
What a farce.
But … But it was a ray of hope for someone who'd been prepared to die.
I stared at the contract.
It was a simple thing. It was just a bunch of things that they were expected to give me, what they expected from me, and what the duration of my services would be. This was not something someone made to give false hope to a terminal cancer patient.
There was not a single mention of what my services would be, what the side effect of this deal would be, what kind of cure would be used, or if I would be allowed to stay here in California with my family.
Death or Uncertainty. That's what this was to me.
I picked up a pen with my weak and trembling left hand and added a new statement.
[No memory alteration.]
The woman in front of me stared at it, seemed to calculate the impact of the statement, and then nodded.
I signed the contract.
I set the pen down as the woman walked to my side and pulled out a syringe. ”Sedative.”
”Does it matter?” I asked.
”... A little.”
”Do it then,” I said as I laid down.
She injected it into my trembling arm, and I felt the drug take effect rather fast.
'Hopefully, when I wake up next time, it'll be -'
”- F_U_C_K_I_N_G HELL!” I roared as the drug they injected into me for the ”cure” coursed through my body.
Tied down to an operating table inside an unknown sterile white lab room, I screamed as I felt my body rip and tear itself apart. My heart pounded inside my c_h_e_s_t but my c_h_e_s_t was swelling and the bones were breaking and reforming -!
”GAAAAHHHH!!!!”
My head felt like someone poured white hot lead into it!
My legs!
My arm!
MY MINI-ME! HOLY SHIT APPARENTLY I CAN F_U_C_K_I_N_G JOKE WHILE IN PAIN!
Sitting in a cell, I grumbled before the same woman who offered me this deal walked up to the bars.
”Are you calm?”
I rotated my floating head.
”Kind of,” I spoke through grinding my rocks from within my head.
”Are you ready to talk?”
”... Sorry, I went crazy at the end,” I grumbled out.
The fedora wearing woman simply nodded. ”We do not fault you,” she said as she pulled out a key chain, picked out a key, and used it to open my ridiculously high strength and tensile bars. She slid the bar gates open, and I stood up. When she nodded, I walked out and followed her to one of the exits in this giant complex.
I ignored the other hideously morphed creatures around me. They, like me, chose to take the chance to be cured. Like they, I had gone a little berserk after the end of the procedure. I'd gone a little insane after going through all of the pain I had to endure, and had lashed out.
The fedora woman here had been there to stop me, though I'm not sure how my new changed self had been stopped by a fork.
We exited the prison, because that's what it was, and entered the sterile white portions of the compound. We walked for some time before coming to a stop in front of a door. She opened it, and we stepped through together.
Waiting inside was a lab coat wearing person. He looked frazzled?
He looked up from whatever his work with crystalline glowing within the liquid was, and saw me.
”Ah, you brought him, Contessa.”
”Yes,” the fedora wearing woman replied. ”He's the willing participant.”
The researcher looked me over before huffing. ”Well, bring him over here, then. None of us have time to spare.”
The woman moved only a second after the researcher finished talking, and led me towards an empty armchair in the office. She gestured for me to sit down and when I did, she turned and left.
I took a moment to stare after her and her shapely a_s_s, I turned to look at the researcher, who was still focused on whatever he was working on.
Then he abruptly stopped.
”Alright. You're name?”
”David.”
”Hmm… give me a different name. Different form, different name.”
A curt kind of man, I assume?
I looked over myself. I wasn't exactly human anymore. My ”head” was a spherical construct floating with a hollow cavity filled with rough crystals. They ground for me to make the human sounds but they didn't suffer wear and tear so far. My body was of similar material.
”Augur.”
”... warning of an outcome, good or bad,” the researcher hummed. ”Good name. Have you worked on figuring out what your power may be?”
I nodded my head.
When I woke up in this compound, another researcher, a dark skinned lady who was definitely less familiar with modern equipment, explained to me that I would be swallowing the contents of a vial that they chose for me. From this vial, I had the chance of being cured of everything that had gone wrong for me and also obtaining a superpower.
On the other hand, if I was incompatible with the power within even after the preparations they have gone through to ensure compatibility, then I would die from complications during the transition phase. I accepted regardless of the possibility of death because I was already a dead man walking. I just hadn't expected that level of pain.
During the time of my imprisonment, I took a lot of time to discover everything that had changed about myself. I immediately found that I had no neck, my head floated on its own, and all of my body was made out of barn red crystalline stuff. I absorbed iron to ”heal” myself by touching but I could also abstain from doing so.
”Alright, then what is it?” He paused. ”Actually, before we go through with that, why don't we establish some facts. What year was it, wherever you come from?”
”2015.” I was in college a year before I found that I was a terminal cancer patient. My parents got a lot of money from the company that was responsible for my state, so that was good.
”It's 1986 in the Earth that we are going to send you to.”
I felt the world sway for a second before everything snapped.
They can change bodies and give people powers. What's a parallel Earth to that?
”Okay.”
”Great. We've established that, so let's talk about your power.”
I scratched the ”cheek” of my orb-head. ”It's … game-like?”
”'Game-like'?” the researcher repeated.
”I tried a lot of things to call up my powers, and it took me a long time.”
”Yes, you were in your cell for an entire day. You also didn't sleep.”
I paused. ”I don't think I need to.”
He noted that down.
”What else?”
Well, when I was thinking about my status,” I began. ”It popped up.”
”It?”
”A game screen.”
”A game screen… What is a game screen?”
”You haven't played any video games?”
The researcher shrugged. ”Remember that I am from the same Earth you are being sent to. It's the 1980's for me but 2010's for you. Things are different between our two Earths.”
”Ah. Okay. A game screen is part of a GUI, or Game User Interface, that allows a player to interact with the game in a manner that is not realistically possible.”
”Such as?”
”Well, just like most roleplaying games that I know, my power seems to give me a status page and inventory.”
”Can you explain both of those to me?”
”Status page shows me my status. Everything from any debuffs, like diseases, or just overall numerical, if arbitrary, clarification of my status. Inventory allows me to store things.”
”Do you know the limits?”
”No.”
”Very well. We can end the discussion for now. You'll be sent to my Earth, which is being called Earth Bet, as one of our agents.”
”What am I to do?”
The researcher finally smiled. ”Whatever is required of you.”
Augur Status said:
Name:
Augur
Race:
Golem (Crystaline) LvL. 1
Gender:
Male (S_e_x: As_e_x_u_a_l)
Affiliation:
The Cauldron
Residence:
Undecided / Earth Bet
Karma:
Neutral (0)
Jobs:
N/A
HP: 5
MP: 5
Phy. Atk: 10
Phy. Def: 10
Agility: 5
Mag. Atk: 5
Mag. Def: 10
Resistance: 5
Special Ability: 3
Chapter 1.1
1990.2.6
Information was key to action.
It was something that most of the parahumans, or capes if they were active as a mask wearing freak, forgot about.
”NO NO NO-!” one such cape screamed as he tried to run away from me by crawling away backwards.
Not that it would work.
I pulled out a knife and threw it.
”EE-!
Thunk.
Slump.
I sighed. It was irritating, but it was work nonetheless. Walking over to the dead cape, I grabbed him by his hair and dragged him out of the room with me. I didn't say anything as I walked out of the room, and then the building, and finally out into the road.
Few people who were still out at night saw me. Whispers soon broke out, which turned into louder murmurs and gasps when they saw who I was dragging behind me. Passing beneath multiple streetlights, I came to a stop at the center of an avenue and nodded to myself.
I dropped the dead cape, and reached into my inventory. From there, I pulled out a long metal pole and planted it directly into the center of the asphalt road. Ignoring the growing crowd on the sidewalks, I grabbed the dead cape and hurled him up.
Then I impaled him.
People screamed but I ignored them. I knew that this cape was already dead.
I turned to the still remaining people, some of whom had cameras.
”I AM AUGUR!” I shouted. ”Many of you know who I am and what I do. Some of you don't!” I paused to let it sink in. ”I am a vigilante who roams across the entire North America! I have been to Toronto! I struck down a neo-Nazi in Brockton Bay! I fought with the Teeth in New York City! I was there to fight Behemoth's assault on Raleigh!” I let that sink in with another pause. ”And I am now here in Phoenix, Arizona because I have heard of your troubles with this villain, the Slaver!”
Yes, that was what the guy named himself. He was the central figure in human trafficking in all of US Southwest because he had an ability called ”Send Teleport,” which was basically the ability to teleport something - never himself, though - to a location if he knew what it looked like.
It was a powerful ability, but the Slaver had neglected to use it for offensive uses. So secure in his petty criminal kingdom, he neglected to grow.
Now, he was dead.
”So I came and met out justice!” I roared, spraying my arms wide. ”The cape who used the nation's inability to imprison him in these times of trouble to further his greed and sell children, women, and men to slavery! The Slaver of Phoenix is now impaled before you! No more of your family will be sent across seas to suffer horrors and humiliations! No more! NO MORE!”
Silence. It was always like this. Soon enough, however…
Someone clapped.
And another. Then more. Finally, the entire center of the avenue cheered wildly.
”NO MORE!” I roared out.
”NO MORE!” people cheered. ”NO! MORE! NO! MORE! NO! MORE! NO! MORE!”
This was America.
I wasn't going to let evil run wild.
I bowed to the escalating cheers, and made my way out with the usage of [Fly], a Tier-3 spell of the Wizard Job. I watched as several of the newly minted Protectorates rushed to the area I was in, but they were too late.
By the time they wove through the crowds to see the impaled body of the Slaver and hundreds of people cheering me on, I was already gone.
Instead of hiding out within the city, I made my way towards Los Angeles. With the Slaver dead, his petty criminal kingdom was going to fall apart. There were still some capes that were under his employ, but they were soon going to fight each other.
The Protectorate could deal with the small fries. I intended to get some more -.
Ping.
I stopped mid-flight and stared at the notification I got.
[Level Up!]
”Oh~!” I noted happily before quickly pulling up my status page. There, at the bottom of the page, was [Unused LeveL: 1], and the Races and Jobs sections both had open slots now.
The way this Gamer power worked for me was that when I gained a Level, I didn't ”gain” a numerical level to an overall power level but rather a ”Level Point” I could use to gain Racial and Job Class Levels.
All races and jobs had their requirements, however, so I couldn't choose something willy-nilly. For example, Clerics and Paladins were jobs that required high levels of faith (Resistance), which I only had moderate level of. War Wizard also required me to possess at least Wizard LvL 15, which I did have.
This was great.
Why?
Because each job not only had requirements, or lack thereof for more basic jobs like fighters and wizards, but limitations. A regular Wizard could only use light armor, no matter their race or other job classes. A War Wizard, however, could use moderate armor. It was something I had been striving forward for sometime, and I was happy to finally get the chance to use it.
War Wizard was a Job Class that worked to supplement the basic Wizard Class rather than a Job Class that gave more spell options. The magic system of this Gamer style was based on a ”tier-magic system,” which ranged from 1st Tier to 10th Tier and beyond.
Gaining War Wizard allowed me to use spells at half cooldown period and use metamagic enhancements without cost. Whereas I needed to use ten percent of my entire mana pool (no matter how fast it recovered) to use [Extend Magic: Fly] to fly for 12 hours instead of the original 6 hours, once I obtained War Wizard, then I would be allowed to use [Extend Magic: Fly] with only five percent of my mana pool.
It was awesome!
I happily clicked away at War Wizard.
But with [Fly] already active, I could do something else to get me to L.A.
”[Boost Magic: Fly]!” I shouted cheerfully.
And just like that, my 80 mph 3rd Tier Magic [Fly] became a 160 mph 4th Tier Magic [Fly].
”WOOOOO!!!” I cheered as I blasted towards the city of Alexandria.
Name:
Augur
Race:
Golem (Crystalline): LvL. 15
Gender:
Male (S_e_x: As_e_x_u_a_l)
Affiliation:
The Cauldron / Indie Vigilante
Residence:
Earth Bet
Karma:
Neutral (0)
Jobs:
Wizard: 15
A/N: The entire first arc will be a lot of setting and character development rather than conflict development. There will be a lot of timeskips, usually 1~2 year periods.
Chapter 1.2
1990.4.10
Anaheim, California
”There are some people who are very upset with you, miss.”
In this modern era when most of the weapons used had some sort of metal involved, the thing about fighting Tinkers was how easy it was.
”Who the hell are you?” my target shouted before reaching for a very clearly tinkertech pistol on her belt. But before she could even pull it out, I quickly raised my hand up, which had a steel and leather gauntlet I bought from a local hobbyist.
”[Triple Magic: Lightning]!” I roared out, and from the tip of my gauntlet, lightning burst forth like three white snakes, zigzagging towards the target while lighting up the night where I caught my target.
Because I possessed lightning and Tinkers had a lot of metal on them.
The villain Tinker screamed as all three lightning struck him, and she fell with a flop on the wet and dirty alley ground.
Leaving her there for a moment, I reached into my steel weave business suit's inner pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. I unfolded it, showing me a list of names, masks, description of attires, their affiliations, and powers.
The paper I held was the list of wanted parahumans in Los Angeles area, and one of the people on this list was the very Tinker I just electrocuted.
Mostly, it was requests from the state and federal government for me to put down some of the peskier local troublemakers. Xaya, the Tinker I just electrocuted, was part of a larger group of villains who ambushed a federal munitions caravan heading from the LA's docks to one of the army bases.
A federal agency specifically for parahumans have yet to form, so the policing of violent criminals fell upon the army, the regular police officers, militia, and coast guards. Poor bastards.
Anyways, Xaya made tinkertech that served as power multipliers for many of the villains, and was also the leader of said ambush.
The federal government wanted to make an example out of her. When I heard that, I almost rejected the job but Alexandria convinced me that it wouldn't be anything nasty like something an African warlord would do.
After being reassured, I went and came here. Finding Xaya was the hard part.
Taking her down, not so much.
I walked up to the prone figure and grabbed her. With a slight heave, I pulled her off the ground and over my shoulder. Then I flew up and over in an arc towards the nearest police station.
The nightlife of Southern California was quiet. I wasn't anywhere near Disneyland or downtown L.A. proper, and it was also 2 a.m.
I came to a soft landing in front of the police station, and walked up. The police station was lit, and someone inside saw me coming. Their hand immediately went to the gun that was surely by their hip, and I calmly walked into the police station's lobby after pushing the glass door in.
Before the officer could speak, I moved first. I raised a hand in a gesture of peace, the V. The officer looked quizzically at me with dark bags under his eyes, and I just moved on. I slowly dropped Xaya and pulled her hands behind her. Two zippers later, she was secure with her thumbs bound and her ankles tied together in a cross.
Then I turned to the officer and presented him with a business card.
”My name is -”
”Augur,” the police officer interrupted. ”You're quite famous.”
I worked my nonexistent mouth a little before nodding. This was the first time a police officer recognized me.
”Then we can skip the introductions. I caught Xaya, the tinker behind me, who was behind the assault on federal munitions delivery two months ago. I was hoping you could call the army for me so that they can take her away to their more secure holding cells.”
The police officer grunted in agreement before sitting back down into his driver's seat and pulling up a radio from the car's radio station.
It was the 90's here in Earth Bet, which meant that there was no cheap cellphone I could carry around with ease.
It was why I even had to come to a police station instead of heading straight to an army base. I couldn't call ahead and I was still considered a vigilante. If I just flew to the army base, then I would have been shot down, and as a violent vigilante, the army would have arrested me on the spot.
The PRT and the Protectorate had yet to establish themselves, sp people still believed that they could fight parahumans with guns. The fools. Most of them didn't even know how much a single parahuman could be.
(Technically they can but I was not exactly a low-tier parahuman like future Alabaster)
When the police officer got in contact with the army, I nodded and turned around to leave.
”Wait, you're leaving?”
I stopped and turned around just a bit. The police officer looked confused. ”Yes.”
”But what about the villain?” he gestured to the still unconscious woman.
I shrugged. ”I electrocuted her hard. I doubt she'll wake up any time soon.”
”But still, the colonel wants to talk with you…”
Ah. So that's why he talked to me instead of letting a ”violent and very dangerous” vigilante go. But why did the army want to talk to me? While it wasn't my first time interacting, tangentially, on anything that involves them, they hadn't given me much attention before…
”Not interested,” I said, waving him goodbye as I walked out. I didn't want to get involved.
With that, I left.
I didn't have an overarching goal.
I know. I had all of this power at my finger tip but I didn't have a single concrete goal. I took down villains because I believed in exercising justice where normal justice could not reach.
Beyond that, however, I didn't have a goal. I floated around the entire continent because I was looking for what I wanted to do. I had been sick and folded up all ventures but now I was healthy and without aim.
What could I do? A lot and I had potential for even more.
What should I do? I was unsure.
I intended to fulfill my end of the contract with the Cauldron. They gave me a new leash on life and they haven't asked me to slaughter thousands or something equally arbitrarily heinous.
I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew that when the time came, I didn't want to be left bereft of capital to chase after the goal.
For now, I had to grow not just personally but also influentially, socially, and financially.
…
While I have dabbled in hero work as a vigilante, I couldn't grow myself on vigilante work alone. I could already feel the progression with my ”Gamer” system slowing down. When I first began, taking down a villain's mook got me to level two. Taking down an entire villain's organization in Atlanta brought me to level five. Taking down minor villains netted … much less than that.
I took down the Slaver in Phoenix and that netted me quarter of a level, yet Xaya, who was arguably stronger because of her connections and influence, netted me -.
I briefly checked my EXP progress.
- less than that. Was my EXP based on the personal powerlevel of the individual I took down? It certainly would make sense outside of the few ”quests” that I completed.
This meant I had to fight a lot of people and win against them all to progress. I didn't know the limits of my leveling system, however.
What kind of work would put me in such a position where I could keep fighting but stop whenever I wanted to?
…
I snapped my fingers.
”A mercenary.”
I wouldn't do it here in North America, but in more chaotic places like the Phillipines, Japan, China, India, all of Africa, and the Middle East?
”[Extend Magic: Fly],” I said and floated up slowly. I supposed that I had a new destination.
Name:
Augur
Race:
Golem (Crystalline): LvL. 15
Gender:
Male (S_e_x: As_e_x_u_a_l)
Affiliation:
The Cauldron /Mercenary
Residence:
Earth Bet
Karma:
Neutral (50)
Jobs:
Wizard: 15
War Wizard 1
Chapter 2.1
1995.6.2
The thing about warfare modified with capes was that it took a reverse effect on the evolution of military doctrine. Advanced weaponry - missiles, rockets, and even nuclear bombs - were capable of hurting low-tier capes, but against mid-tier and high-tier parahuman capes, even they fell short.
Yes, nuclear bombs would kill all but the most powerful capes, but it would also irradiate the very region the militaries of the world d_e_s_i_r_ed to take for their own, never mind the international repercussions and Scion coming to visit (but really, Scion seemed to destroy any nukes being launched so nukes were useless at this point). If the majority of any conflict happened as urban warfare, this left even the more useful artilleries and air bombers out of use because no one wanted to bomb their own cities.
No, this left capes to fight capes like the European medieval knights. Numbers mattered more than ever because even high tier capes like Eidolon could fall if enough ants swarmed him. It just hadn't happened yet. It would happen eventually.
So in a conflict prone region like the Middle East, numbers was what decided the battlefront. Not everyone could field many capes from their home country, however, for one reason or another.
This meant hiring parahumans willing to fight for money or other goods and services.
Mercenaries.
In fact, ever since the advent of parahumans, the Middle East had become the place with the highest concentration of parahumans, measuring at one parahuman per one-thousand people when America was at one parahuman per thirty-thousand in 1991.
The reason for this was simple: war.
So much f_u_c_k_i_n_g war.
'Not that I mind it,' I thought to myself. 'I benefit greatly.'
Indeed, my ability to provide numerous support brought likeminded parahumans to me, and by the end of the first year of myself stepping out of vigilantism and into mercenary work, I was a part of a parahuman mercenary company numbering in at thirty.
Now, that didn't sound like a lot, and it wasn't compared to Saudi Arabia's sixty-nine, Iran's ninety, Egypt's eighty, and Turkey's ninety-one.
But here in the Caucasus and the Kurdistan regions, we were not only the biggest but the most mobile and deadly force. This was because of me, my wizard class, and high level, which clocked in at combined level of level 43. While my c_u_mulative level meant little to people, what I could do did matter.
As a level 43, I had access to Seventh Tier Spells, some of which I kept hidden on purpose. There were other Seventh Tier Spells, however, that I used regularly. The greatest of these was ”Create Greater Item.” I could create items that last for a long time with just my mana. My most produced item was ”Chainmail of Deflection” and other such similar items for a full head to toe outfit, all of which deflected any small arms fire.
It wasn't mass producible by any means, but it gave us all an edge in terms of combat efficiency.
It gave everyone a minor Brute rating.
It seemed at first like a small thing but when my friend, the leader of the mercenaries, told me that it would change everything, I believed him.
In the next combat engagement, we found out how true it was. Five of our numbers fought against a division of Iraqis trying to kill us because we had taken a contract from the Kurds.
No one in our squad was injured by guns while the enemies suffered a near total defeat. This one battle put not only my mercenary group on the map but it put me out there.
If that was all, then our group wouldn't even be good enough to hold the entirety of the Kurdistan region. I had ”Greater Teleportation,” which allowed me to teleport to anywhere in the world as long as I had an idea of the landing zone and had the mana to use the spell. I had ”Control Weather” which allowed me to manipulate the weather as I saw fit in an area big enough to cover half of New York City.
But my greatest contribution to the mercenary group was the choosing of my secondary Race: Eldritch Construct. Combined with my Wizard and War Wizard job classes, I was able to do things that dictated more.
I could summon some nasty mind breaking monsters into existence.
My tactic was simple.
Find an enemy base, teleport in, summon three A-class threat monsters all of which could think, plan, and kill the same as - if not better - than humans, and let them loose.
This was how we kept Turkey back.
That was how I kept Iran on its toes.
I was the reason why Saudi Arabia kept to its borders and stepped out of the Middle East affairs.
…
Except, I didn't show myself like that. The group as a whole attributed many of these acts as those performed by the core five members of our mercenary, which included myself and our mercenary leader, who I pushed into that position because he was ambitious and adventurous.
Except, there was no ”core five.” It was just me and the leader, who had a Master power that let him make clones, posing as five when it was really just us two.
I'm very smart, creating decoys and everything.
-AKA-
”I hate ambushes!” I growled in my human disguise before peeking just a bit over the concrete-rubble-turned-cover, and shot a single hand out towards the enemies in the distance. ”[Triple Magic: Chain Dragon Lightning]!” My chant triggered my magic to burst forth from my fingers, and lightning shot forth, forming vague images of dragons, before striking at the brick building across the street.
”GAH!” someone screamed.
I immediately pushed myself down as bullets rained down on my position.
I waited, hoping that my friends would use the opening I gave them to-.
RATATATATATATATA
More screams rang out, and the bullets stopped hitting my cover. I cast a quick silently cast Protection against Projectiles (3rd-tier) and looked up.
”Where the f_u_c_k did these desert rats come from?!” I shouted angrily before silently casting Sense Enemy (2nd-Tier*) with Boost Magic, revealing nothing in one kilometer radius around me. Seeing as there was no more enemy, I stood up from my cover. I pulled up my radio and turned it on. ”This is CF-2 reporting no more enemy in one click. I repeat, CF-2 reporting no more enemy in one click, over.”
The radio buzzed to life a little later. ”{This is R-5. I copy you, CF-2. We'll be leaving our covers, over.}”
A second after that, my friends and mercenaries rose up from the covers that they have been using against the rain of bullets.
”[Teleport],” I mumbled before appearing on top of the last enemy position. The scene changed from the ground level Middle Eastern mud and brick building to one on a second story. I frowned when I was immediately struck by the smell of cooked meat. I looked around, scanning the rubble, and then found the last gunner who's been trying to kill us.
While charred beyond recognition because of my lightning, I saw that the vest had been spared the worst of the damages with only minor charring on the edges.
My eyes widened before I growled. I reached down to the corpse and roughly ripped off the patch and badge of the person that I now knew was a mercenary. I teleported back to my position, where the others have been gathering.
”It's the f_u_c_k_i_n_g Saudis,” I growled as I tossed the badge at the leader of this operation, R-1.
”This is a Scari logo,” R-1 remarked in surprise.
SCaRi, short for SamsonCarlsonRio Securities, was a Danish security company with operations across the globe with about as many employees as Walmart. What they weren't, however, was a mercenary company. Their primary areas of operation was providing security to gas sites, electrical plants, and other energy locations.
”What the f_u_c_k?” R-10, a Danish woman, muttered in shock. ”Give it here!” she snapped and took the patch from R-1's hand, and when she confirmed that yes, it was a Scari security patch, she gawked. ”What the f_u_c_k?!”
”Maybe it was stolen equipment?” I pondered. I knew that I was fooling myself; Scari didn't operate at all in the Middle East area. They avoided this place like the plague because of the instability. It couldn't have been stolen equipment because there was no Scari operation in the region.
And the only major power in the region who could afford to pull Scari into the region was the Saudis (Iran had a scandal with Scari a few years back that resulted in multiple employee deaths) because no one else was rich enough or influential enough.
”But why Scari?” R-10 asked angrily. ”The f_u_c_k_i_n_g American mercenaries - no offense-,” she added. I raised my hand up in acceptance. ”Have more and better troops!”
This was also true. Scari was a security company, not a private military contractor. They didn't operate remotely similar to any private military contractors.
So why was it here?
”Could it be from Russia?” R-5, an Australian man, asked. ”I mean, they're pretty well known corrupt assholes that sold their own nukes. I wouldn't put it behind their former generals and site directors from selling equipment belonging to international companies.”
”Maybe,” R-1 mumbled. ”Let's just leave this place already. We're not getting anything here.”
We all agreed and moved towards our destination: Deralok, Iraq, where the heaviest fighting between Iraq and Syria was taking place but it was part of the Kurdistan region, inhabited by Kurds. As the Kurds' contractors, it was our job to bring safety back.
I held my hands out, and the crew, all five of them, grabbed onto them. ”[Mass Teleportation],” I chanted. A ring of halo surrounded all of us for a second before we zipped out of the ruins where we'd stopped to get me a breather.
When the teleportation ended, we arrived just outside of Deralok, a quaint town. I quickly scrambled up the hill that separated us from the town and looked.
Well, it was supposed to be quaint. It wasn't.
Hidden behind the hills, we watched as the Syrians in the west and the Iraqi in the east exchanged fire and artillery.
The war between Syria and Iraq was an Earth Bet exclusive event. Where I come from, Syria and Iraq didn't fight a war in the 90's between themselves. On Earth Bet, it was the assassination of Saddam Hussein by a Syrian parahuman assassin that sparked the war. Coupled with Iraq's previous wars and rebellions that crippled many of its cities and army, Iraq was on the losing side of this conflict.
One of the shells landed in the town proper, and detonated, sending a building flying in all directions.
”We have to get down there!” R-1, ever the impatient and passionate defender of the Kurds, growled. A parahuman capable of tanking bullets and artillery as long as he didn't move his feet, he was quick to act. He was also the most senior member of our mercenary group outside of the Core Five.
While I wasn't the leader of the operation, I was a member of the Core Five (or rather, one of only two real people in the Core Five while the other three were my illusory clones using my spells at a distance), and that meant that as long as I was on the field, my ”suggestions” were taken before any action.
So I took my time to observe the situation.
The Iraqis and Syrians were exchanging bullets and shells, yes. Most of them were, however, fighting in the outskirts of the town. The center of the town was being avoided.
Why?
”Keep to the outskirts,” I suggested. ”And remain firmly in the northeast area if you can. Move down south through the eastern outskirts if you have to, but avoid the center.”
”Alright, let's go people!” R-1 shouted and rushed over the hilltop. R-5, R-10, R-11, and R-12 rushed forward behind R-1.
I sat behind the hill, ready to provide support.
”{This is R-1. You keeping an eye on us, CF-2, over?}”
”This is CF-2. I got my eyes on you. Neither side knows we're here yet, over,” I replied.
”{Got it. Moving in, over.}”
Pulling out my binoculars from my backpack, I watched from the hill as the five mercenaries of varying origins moved in to fulfill the contract our company signed with the Kurds. They reached the northeastern edge of the thick V-shaped town. My mercenaries stopped in front of a house, but then I immediately saw R-1 freeze upon peeking into the house.