Into the Fray

*First Person POV - Aspen*

Once inside, I sat down at a makeshift bench and turned to face Ghost fully, "What kind of job?"

"Escort and protection. Some cleanup, if things go sideways. Guy named Grimz made the offer," Ghost explained, his tone as cold and indifferent as ever, but I knew him well enough to sense the hesitation.

"Grimz?" I rolled the name over in my mind. I hadn't heard of him, well, my previous self hadn't heard of him, but then again, these cities were crawling with mercs, criminals, and warlords, each trying to carve out their piece of hell. "High risk, high reward?"

Ghost nodded. "Yeah."

We needed the credits, but something about jumping into a job with an unknown crew didn't sit right with me. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and laying low wasn't going to put food on the table or fuel in the MRAP, let alone get us the credits we need to start enacting my revenge. Our revenge.

"I say we hear him out," I said finally. "But we go together. You already know only to address me as Reaper."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "You sure about coming along? Shouldn't I be the one making these moves while you plan our next steps?"

I didn't respond immediately. The idea of returning to the field was foreign yet familiar. But now I was doing it under the moniker of Reaper, donning a ghostly persona I never had imagined myself doing. But I was in another universe now, the rules had changed, my responsibilities had changed, my goals had changed. I had to abandon Aspen the architect and engineer and embrace Aspen the commander I now was. It wasn't a decision I made lightly, but it was necessary to survive in this universe. As for taking on the name of Reaper, well God called me his Reaper, and it sounds like a good name to go by and not be recognized by my body's enemies.

"You have a point, but we have no idea what you're walking into," I finally said. "Better to be safe than sorry. I won't show my face, no one will know my name or yours, Simon."

Ghost flinched but gave a small nod of approval. He understood the rules of the game better than anyone.

We didn't waste any more time. With a few supplies, we had scavenged from the bandits already loaded up to the MRAP, I strapped my gear to my back and hit the road, leaving the sanctuary of Michael's hangar behind. The city loomed ahead, dark and ominous despite the daylight. 

By the time we reached the rendezvous point where Grimz's crew was supposed to meet, it was 9:30 am. Surprisingly this body was used to being stressed and sleeping little, so it didn't take much more than 4 hours for me to be up and running and an extra hour to get here. We parked the MRAP a few blocks away in an alley to avoid attracting too much attention and made our way on foot to the location, a rundown warehouse on the edge of the industrial district.

Ghost moved ahead, his steps almost inaudible on the concrete. I hid my face beneath a scarf and put on some aviator shades, and a military-style cap before I followed behind him.

We slipped into the warehouse, where Grimz and his crew were already waiting. The moment we walked in, I could feel the tension. Grimz was sitting on a crate, a smirk on his face as he spotted Ghost. But when his eyes landed on me, the smirk faltered.

"Who's the fuck is this?" Grimz asked, his voice dripping with suspicion and hostility. His cybernetic eye whirred as it focused on me.

Ghost stayed silent for a moment before answering. "This is Reaper. He's in."

Grimz's brow furrowed. "I don't remember asking for another hand."

I stood tall, my voice calm but authoritative beneath the scarf. "You didn't. But you're getting one free of charge, we'll be splitting his cut."

Grimz leaned back, rubbing his chin. His crew, four rough-looking mercenaries armed to the teeth, shifted uneasily. "I don't like it when people hide their faces," he muttered, his mechanical eye twitching as it scanned me.

"You don't need to like it," I replied.

For a moment, the warehouse was filled with a heavy silence. Grimz stared at me, weighing his options. His crew glanced between us, the tension thick enough to choke on. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine. But if things go south, you're on your own, Reaper. I don't trust people I can't see, let alone ones I don't invite," his eyes shifted towards Ghost as he said those last words.

"Fine by me," I said flatly.

Grimz snorted, then gestured to his crew. "Let's get this show on the road then."

He introduced the others—Hades, a heavily armored brute of a man with a penchant for explosives; Wraith, a sniper with a cold, calculating demeanor; Pyro, an incendiary specialist with a wild look in his eyes; and Venom, a medic with a reputation for being as dangerous as the people she patched up.

Ghost and I exchanged a glance. This wasn't the most stable bunch, but I had no doubt they could handle themselves in a firefight. Whether they could be trusted was another matter entirely.

We climbed into a convoy of battered military vehicles that had clearly seen better days. Grimz's crew had a VTOL gunship, heavily armed but worn down from years of use. Ghost and I rode in silence with Venom in one of the 2 MRAPs they had, the mission site looming ahead: a supply depot on the outskirts of the city, one of the few that hadn't been fully gutted by raiders yet.

Our job was simple: protect the 2 trucks that would be transporting the goods and make sure it reached its destination. The 2 trucks became visible as we reached the depot and activity could be seen around it. Not much, but it was more than what we had seen on our way here. 

We parked in front of the trucks as the VTOL hovered above us piloted by Hades with Wraith on its open door, a regular sniper in his hand. I found it weird when I realized that Ghost and I were the only ones with high-level military weaponry since I had expected them to be owned by more people considering how this was a war-filled universe.

Grimz got out of his MRAP, escorted by Pyro who was in the driver's seat. They walked up to the truck drivers who were standing next to a man with one of those transparent tablets. I can only guess they were reviewing the cargo being transported and introducing themselves to the drivers. 

I saw them shake hands and then everyone went to their vehicles as the man with the tablet tapped his left ear and started speaking as he walked away. Something in my gut told me that this man was up to something, but I said nothing. I turned to Ghost and we turned to me and whispered, "I saw that too."

Venom looked at us through her rearview mirror and asked, "What are you two whispering about back there?"

I made eye contact with her through the mirror and said "Well, let's just say you should contact the others and let them know to be on their toes, we should be expecting trouble."

She looked unamused, "Oh, is that so Mr. Reaper? To me, you two just look like some paranoid freaks who managed to get their hands on some high-grade weaponry. And then you gave yourself a name that would make you sound mysterious and dangerous."

Ghost and I stayed silent at that. If they wanted to dig their own graves, we wouldn't stop them, but we would be ready for what's to come. We already did more than enough by warning them.

We waited a bit until the second truck pulled out of the depot before we joined the convoy.

We had been riding for about an hour and not even a peep had been heard, everything seemed to be alright, that was until I got a system notification from Jarvis.

"Ding! New Quest: Kill the bandits.

Quest Description: You're not dumb, you know what's about to happen. Good luck, Host.

Reward: 150 CSP

CSP reward distributions updated. From now on, the reward for any kill made by the Host will be 2 CSP at a minimum. The reward per kill made by the Host's subordinates will be 1 CSP at a minimum and half their true worth for any human being with a soul value higher than 2."

As soon as this popped into my head I sighed, "You gotta be fucking kidding me." Ghost notices my shift in demeanor and he grabs his rifle, not a railgun but a strong DMR nonetheless. He chambers a round in and keeps its barrel pointing towards the ground. I do the same with my DMR, keeping my railgun off, after I had noticed its firing capacity before needing to cool down during my last altercation, I opted to use another weapon that used conventional ammunition rather than one that used electromagnetic fields to launch its projectiles. The fact that I only had 2 10-round magazines left for it may have also had an influence on my decision.

Venom looked through the rearview mirror once again as she noticed our movement, "It had been an hour since you said something. What is it, with you two, not what you expected from an escort mission?"

I snort, "Quite the opposite, shit's about to get hectic."

The convoy slowed to a halt as our coms came to life.

"This is Eagle Eye, we have a large tree blocking the road and can't continue. Venom, go to the front and use your MRAPs plow and get that shit out of the road."

"Copy that, Hades, coming to the front now," Venom responded. 

As she maneuvered our MRAP around the two trucks, I turned to Ghost and muttered "Stay sharp," as my eyes scanned the horizon. He gave a slight nod, his hand already resting on the grip of the DMR. 

I tightened my grip on my DMR, my instincts screaming that something was coming. And then, all at once, hell broke loose.

*Third Person POV*

The first explosion ripped through the air, shattering the stillness like glass. A fiery streak shot from the treeline and collided with the VTOL, tearing through its hull with a deafening roar. The craft bucked violently, its engines sputtering as it fought to stay in the air. Flames engulfed its tail, and for a moment, it hovered helplessly, as if gravity had forgotten its grip, until it didn't. The VTOL went on a hard bank to the right and then another one to the left and came crashing down in front of Venom's MRAP, tearing the ground apart with a thunderous boom, a plume of smoke rising where it fell.

"Shit!" Venom screamed, slamming the brakes and swerving their MRAP to avoid getting hit by the VTOL that had just barely missed them.

Aspen, whipped his head around, trying to make sense of the chaos, but there was no time. The sharp crack of a sniper rifle cut through the noise, and one of the truck drivers had his head split open and his body go stiff as he leaned back in his driver seat. The second driver tried to open his door and get out of his truck as he knew he was a sitting duck, but as he was doing so, another shot rang out. The man was struck on the right side of his back at an angle and the bullet came out through his jaw as it ricocheted with his bones. His body hit the dirt with a heavy thud, as blood ran out like a fountain from where his jaw used to be, his carotid artery having been destroyed by the bone and bullet fragments in his body.

"Snipers!" Reaper barked, kicking open the door of the MRAP and rolling out onto the dirt, he ran around to the other side of the MRAP to use the armored vehicle for cover.

Ghost had already moved out of the MRAP, slipping into position beside Aspen. His DMR was up, his eyes scanning the distant ridges, searching for a glint, a muzzle flash—anything to give away the enemy's location. But these weren't amateurs. Whoever they were, they knew how to stay hidden.

Venom cursed behind the wheel, her hands gripping the comms. "We've got snipers! The VTOL's down—what do we do?!"

"Forget the VTOL; it's done," Grimz growled through the comms. "We have to handle this ourselves." 

Aspen then spoke to Jarvis in his mind, asking for enemy positions to be marked. A soft chime rang in Aspen's head "Host, marking enemy positions." His vision was illuminated by various red dots.

Four snipers, each perfectly positioned to rain hell down on them from different angles. "I see them," he muttered. He then turned to Ghost and pointed out where they were.

Ghost didn't waste any time. He brought his DMR up, lined up a shot, and fired. One of the markers disappeared. Aspen barely heard the muffled pop of Ghost's rifle—just the crack of impact a split second later. One down.

Aspen raised his own DMR, sighting in on the sniper farthest to the right. He adjusted his breathing, squeezing the trigger just as the sniper shifted. His shot was clean—a headshot. The sniper's body slumped forward, disappearing from sight. Two down.

"They're falling back," Ghost muttered, his voice flat but focused.

Another explosion rocked the road ahead, and Reaper glanced toward the tree line. Figures emerged from the woods, a small army of bandits charging toward the convoy. They had waited for their air support to be taken down and then for the snipers to soften them up before making their move. Classic ambush tactics.

"Of fucking course," Aspen muttered, already reaching for his grenades.

Ghost chuckled grimly. "Seems like you were right about this mission."

"Stay focused! We need to defend the MRAPs!" Aspen called to Venom, who was still in the driver's seat, her knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Aspen lobbed a high explosion grenade toward the incoming bandits, sending a few scattering just before the explosion tore through the ground. Dirt, limbs, and shrapnel flew into the air. Two more were down, but more replaced them, charging forward with reckless abandon. They were getting too close for comfort.

Aspen switched to full auto, squeezing the trigger of his DMR as he moved, taking down another two. Ghost shifted his position behind the MRAP, picking off stragglers with calm precision, each shot lethal. But there were too many of them.

"Reloading!" Aspen called out as he did a tactical reload, dumping his magazine to the right and quickly putting in another one. "We need to fall back!" he called to Ghost. "This isn't a sustainable position. We'll be overrun in no time."

Ghost nodded, still firing. "Agreed."

Venom finally snapped out of her shock. "What about Grimz and Pyro? They're out there too!"

"They're not our priority! Probably dead already!" Aspen shouted back. "We have to survive this first to be able to worry about others!" As he said that gunfire erupted up ahead, signaling that Grimz and Pyro were not out of it. Aspen hesitated for a second before screaming, "Fuck it! We'll see what we can do!"

The bandits were closing in fast. Adrenaline was firing through Aspen and Ghost, enhancing their already enhanced senses even further. This wasn't about saving the convoy anymore, it was about survival. Aspen gritted his teeth and stood, rifle ready. "Alright, mate. Let's dance."

With that, they sprang into action. The two of them pushed forward towards one of the trucks, weapons blazing, taking out bandits one by one. Pyro and Grimz were in the fray somewhere, but they had to manage on their own, at least until Aspen and Ghost could reach them.

They darted from cover to cover, knowing they had to create an opening to get to Grimz and Pyro. Another explosion echoed nearby, shaking the ground and sending debris flying.

"Grenade!" Aspen yelled as he chucked another high explosive grenade into a group of bandits that was focused on shooting at Grimz's MRAP. They were caught completely off-guard by Aspen, so his grenade was really effective.

With renewed determination, Aspen and Ghost moved forward, occasionally firing into the tree line. As they moved, a sniper shot rang out just barely missing Aspen, grazing his right arm. "Motherfucker!"

Aspen turned to where Jarvis was indicating and opened fire striking the sniper in the shoulder with a lucky shot that bounced around his bones and made its way to the sniper's heart, piercing it. Third sniper down.

Aspen and Ghost finally reached Grimz's MRAP, corpses lay strewn all around it. When they got to the other side of it, they took in a gnarly sight. Part of Grimz's jaw was missing, but he was still alive. As for Pyro, he was missing his left arm, which had been chewed up by machinegun fire at the bicep.

"Y'all don't look too good," Aspen said as he looked them up and down. "Ghost, tend to them, I'll cover us."

"Copy that," Ghost immediately started tending to their wounds as Aspen scanned the treeline. Jarvis was only marking 3 enemies remaining. 1 Sniper and 2 footsoldiers. Aspen quickly locked onto the sniper and took a deep breath before pulling the trigger of his DMR. The shot went clearly through the scope of the sniper and out the back of his head. Fourth sniper down.

Scanning around a little more, Aspen realized that the last 2 who were left were just out of commission. One was leaning up against the right side of one of the trucks, his hand around a wound on his neck and the other was in the pile of bodies, missing both his legs.

Aspen walked up to the one who was in the pile of bodies, noticed that part of his jaw was also missing, and swiftly took out his pistol and ended the man's misery. He walked to the other one who at the sight of him started trembling.

The silence of what had just been a battlefield was eerie and Aspen's almost unscathed appearance almost sent the man over the edge. "Pl-please don't k-kill me," the man pleaded.

Aspen just looked at him with pity hidden behind his aviators, his expressions unseen behind the scarf and hat. He squatted down before the man and put his pistol under the man's chin. "I'm going to be asking you a few questions, I want you to answer them truthfully. If you do, I will spare your life. Understood?"

The man frantically shook his head.

"Who are you guys?" Aspen asked.

"Tiger Claws, a gang from the inner city," the man answered promptly.

"Hmm, who hired you?" Aspen asked.

"No one, w-we just received a tip-off about this convoy. Important and valuable cargo was being moved."

"Is that so? Who tipped you guys off?" 

"I-it was some punk, some dude from the depot. I don't know his name. Lanky white dude, always has a tablet at hand." He responded.

"I think I have an idea of who you're talking about," Aspen said as he scratched his stubble. "Alright, go on, I said I wouldn't kill you."

The man seemed shocked that Aspen was letting him go. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'm a man of my word, now run along before I start regretting my decisions."

The man quickly stood up, hand still clutching his neck, and started backing up towards the tree line, keeping his eyes on Aspen. He turned around and was about to start running when a shot rang out striking the man in the pelvis. He dropped like a sack of potatoes and started screaming in agony.

Aspen walked up to the man and stared him down.

"You lied to me," he said in agony, a hurt look of betrayal adorning his eyes.

"Oh, I didn't lie to you. I said I wouldn't kill you, I kept my word." Aspen said, looking up for a second. "I never said they wouldn't kill you."

Ghost was walking towards them as he holstered his pistol followed by Grimz and Pyro who were still in rough shape but looking a little better. 

The man on the ground writhed in pain as blood seeped through his wounds. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he looked up at Grimz, a sneer curling his lips despite the agony etched on his face.

"You look pretty Grimz, the smile of a god wouldn't you say?" he spat, his voice strained. "You're just a lucky son of a bitch who bare—" His voice was cut short as Grimz leveled his pistol and squeezed the trigger, silencing the man's final curses as a bullet pierced through his skull. Blood, pieces of bones, and brain matter splattered onto the ground, and his body went limp.

"chut zhe huck uh, you ditch (Shut the fuck up, you bitch)." Where the words Grimz barely managed to speak through what remained of his jaw.

"Well, that settles that. Grimz, can you drive?" Aspen asked to which Grimz nodded. "Take one of the trucks, we still have some goods to deliver. Ghost you take the other one. Pyro... go ride with Venom, she."

Pyro didn't try to protest at all and immediately walked to Venom's MRAP and hopped in the passenger seat. Grimz looked at Aspen for a second and nodded before he started walking towards the truck in the lead. Ghost moved to the other truck and hopped on. Both trucks were rather undamaged as the goal was the goods in them and they needed a way to transport them, so the bandits refrained from damaging them more than necessary. 

Aspen walked towards the lead MRAP, tossing bodies out of the road as he came across them. When he finally got in the MRAP, he whistled. "Moment of truth to see if this baby still turns over after getting peppered."

The heavily damaged MRAP sputtered to life, its engine roaring defiantly amidst the wreckage of its battered exterior. Its once-pristine surface was now riddled with bullet holes and patches of scorched paint, the driver side of the armored windshield was the only one without a bunch of cracked armored glass. As the engine coughed and wheezed, smoke curled from the hood.

Inside, the dashboard flickered erratically, warning lights blinking like frantic fireflies, and multiple system failures popping up. With a shudder, its hydraulic systems groaned into action, responding sluggishly to the Aspen's commands. The steering wheel trembled in his hands as he gripped it tightly.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, coaxing the machine back to life. A series of mechanical clicks echoed from beneath the hood, and finally, the hum of the engine grew steadier, filling the air with a low growl. The tires crunched against the dirt, struggling but ready to roll once more.

With one final roar, it surged forward, the machine was a warrior, and it would not yield easily, even in its damaged state. Aspen took the lead on the Convoy, as they drove for another 2 hours to their destination.

When they finally arrived, shock and awe could be seen in all the bystanders' faces as the battered MRAP led the convoy into the small town and into a warehouse.

Word Count: 3949 Words🙂