1 Fallen Warrior
<<———————————————— >>
The Price of Life is Death
"By skill and virtue, we triumph!" - Special Action Forces
[January XXX 2017-00:00:00]
[Philippines XXXXX]
[??? 'XXX' ???]
[XXX "XXX" XXX]
[KIA]
<<———————————————— >>
They were tricked by their own, deceived and manipulated… betrayed and left to rot. thus they suffered for such an error of trust.
The infamous Island of Mindanao, the home to many of the local terrorist since the 2000's and a well known Homebase to many such a criminal. A joint operation between both countries America and the Philippines that had been taken in 2017 suffered a high casualty death rate due to those soldiers sent to that hell of a place. To be honest, it was more of a massacre then anything.
Even though they had succeeded in the beat-down and removal of terrorist groups that had been situated there before, the counter-terrorist assault that was held by four regiments, both from each country had led to an abundant casualty rate with the four Regiments sent to that meat grinder of an island.
Many of those battle brothers he knew, remembering the ones that sacrificed their livelihoods for the protection and prevention of such cruelty inflicted on their people, to gain such recognition and respect. To think they only sent themselves into the fray in vain was unfrogettable.
Each of them were all sent their to die, left to rot…expendable meat shields that were swept under the rug and forgotten like rats in the dirt, disposable rotten meat like corpses by the filthy corrupt hands of those that held absolute power.
Pieces of metal and rebar scatter itself across the town square, houses erupting into flame as trickles of ash and soot fall down gracefully amongst the chaos like snowflakes.
And amongst the brick and rubble that littered across the battlefield we see a man, a dying man, a dying soldier of war.
Our character had been laid onto the floor, settling himself upon the pool of red blood that gushed and that seeped into his body armour and stained his skin, slowly dripping from the wounds sustained in such a soldier. The renaments of his mask were found shattered across the the rocky surface, revealing such a deeply charred and brutally scarred face. The ligaments and bone so visible to see as the sockets that had used to obtain his eyes where vaporised, gone. Replaced by a black void of nothingness that stared longingly to the pitch black he could only see. The tired and exhausted expression of sadness and anger barely visible from the face of such a dead man, his body groaned and ached with each subtle move of his joints. The bones contained beneath the layer of skin, now broken and twisted against himself like a mangled hunk of flesh and the slow feeling of the freezing cold overtook his frail, dying carcass
He was able to move, barely, mind you. But with enough strength to hurl his back against the wall of the collapsing environment and reality around him, gripping the cross around his neck, the sliver and wood caressed with his bony fingers as a form of defence… and a desperate form of comfort for the weak body he possessed.
His vision was nothing, a searing pain that troubled his sight,
He knew that he wont make it home, and he knew he had no chance of survival.
And so he accepted, no, begged for the release of death into his life, embraced it with a welcoming smile and came to terms with his own demise. He was satisfied, he was finally done as he let Angels embrace his soul.
His only wish? For God to forgive a damned soul.
His sight now gone, his lungs collapsing ever so slowly, his breath snatched away from his body, his life dripping away, and his body that was frail and weak gave way to nothingness as a final breath escaped his lungs and stopped his ever beating heart. Forever.
Thus he died… as one of the many that were…
Forgotten.
<<———————————————— >>
'The Forgotten And Those We Remembered'
"...he was just another dead man on another road, answerless, the bearer of another unfathomable story about walking out of one world and into another." - Emily St. John Mandel
[??? ????-00:00:00]
[Heaven?]
["Unknown"]
[KIA]
<<———————————————— >>
His sight was again, staring into nothingness, both even noticing the looming cloud of darkness that consumed the surroundings of the character .
The air was so thin, so deplete of light and warmth, a void, an cold abyss was all that he could see. Not like he could see anyway. He could utter several words from his throat, only groans and sputter of saliva could be seen exiting his pained throat so he decided against it as he floated around this plane.
There were many ways to describe such an environment to those afraid of the nothingness that surrounds them. Not him, never. Not again… not like he can see anyway.
His face was covered in a white blank mask that covered the imprfevtion of skin he had, devoid of any emotion or expression of character, only two symmetrical holes for the eye sockets that contained not a single piece of his sight. His old body, a blank canvas, a foreign state of its former self drifted through this setting of darkness, naked and alone with no identity. Not a splash of light can be seen from the surrounding of such a desolated prison, trapped with only his thoughts and words, a form of twisted company.
-/ I…Died?/-
He muttered his first thoughts into his head, confused of his current predicament as it was bizarre to even be placed in such a space.
He tried to gather each of his remaining thoughts for starters, his own memories, his identity, who he was deep within the crevices of his own consciousness, or what was left of it.
The memories, once fresh and engraved into his own mind, had reduced itself now to a blur, a frustrating realisation.
He silently cursed at himself out of annoyance of the sudden predicament and challenge he now faced. a lost man, his memories gone and now stuck in a void of nothingness? No way to escape? Great! The man audibly sighed at the fact that this seemed to dream like to even consider this a real situation.
But there was nowhere to go.
Out of options and nowhere to go in the distant land of what seemed to be bloody nothing, he unfortunately decided to spent this possibly limited time carefully piecing together the distant memories of his own life, peering into the deep fog that consumed his memories, listening deeply into the sounds that emanated and taking mental notes, creating a rough timeline of events. After two hours of careful deduction, he had successfully gained several chunks of memories and was able to organise a somewhat rough backstory for himself. Although he felt like it didn't matter, who he once was. However, still unable to deduce clearly many of the remaining memories that have still need to be uncovered.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply at the thoughts, staring at the young, carefree nature of the figure he once knew, of what he once was… the rediscovery of a purpose.
An Identity
<<———————————————— >>
'Identity'
"Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you." - George R.R. Martin
[Day ???-00:00:00]
[Unknown]
[Samuel '???' Templar]
[???]
[KIA]
<<———————————————— >>
{~~FLASHBACK~~}
"Within the quiet corners of a small town, secluded from much of society within the UK, was the resting place of Samuel Templar."
[Samuel, a poor farm boy with a small family in-front of his house facing across into the beautiful (shitty) landscape of the UK.]
"His weathered face bore the deep lines of countless battles and trials that had been opposed onto him, each scar and torn flesh telling a tale of sacrifice and resilience. Samuel had once been a decorated soldier, marching through the harshest terrains and tribulations with unwavering determination and blood-thirst for combat. a dangerous and brutal man, yet a man with the inlaid responsibility and burden that shackles that man is insurmountable and often to much for him to bear alone."
[A picture is carefully placed in a table, the entirety of a familiar task force huddled next to each other behind the open hanger doors of an Boeing C-17 Globemaster III]
"Born into a much simpler time in life, he was described to be 'troubled' as a young boy. He was usually the target and only target of bullying for his own mental instability and overall nature as a distant kid, this causing a huge gap in experience really connecting with others. Thus creating a more shy and non-communicative person within a bubble of his own emotions.His family had divorced due to the abuse he sustained from his mother at four , who was quite violent at the time and have thankfully split up with his father, who has been trying to care for him at every turn, however the poor financial status of said family meant they struggled to keep a float. Turning to gchristianity as a form of guidance for them, a way to create hope for themselves.
[Several pictures of his life and documents and reports from his background gave explanatory details of the events of his life]
"He realised at that moment going into high school that the treatment and everyday abuse of those that resided in that hell hole of a school had pushed him to a limit that broke his patience and life into two. So, with a the only choices being that of a man who works at a minimum wage supermarket or something, much more. He decided to create and forge a legacy that not only healed his trauma with the intense alienation and mistreatment that he had been inflicted upon him, but forged a man of steel. This caused him to enlist into the British Army as a young man, drawn to the call of duty during a distant conflict that echoed in the annals of history. To be given a sense of purpose, a sense of accomplishment in the face of battle, the camaraderie forged and burned in the crucible of war became the foundation of Samuel's character, a stoic demeanour masking the emotional weight he carried, the burning smell of the fire that burned deep inside him as he battled through many crusades that earned him respect for his bravery."
"Trained under the following regiments, renowned for their strict and professional training regimes and their brutality as being well known regiments across the globe. Being with the likes of the Brigade of Gurkhas regiment from India, The Parachute regiment under the UK (THE PARAS) and the Light Reaction regiment from the Philippines (counter-terrorist)."
[folders upon folders of expeditions and missions listed with many pictures of said intel on specific missions that he was entrusted with as a perfect product of war, alongside a picture of a familiar task force and other regiments that he was once a part of.]
"His eyes, though dimmed with the passage of years and the tribulations of war that echoed across his mind, still sparkled with the memories of distant lands and faces of comrades long gone before the sssukt on Mindanao. Samuel found solace in reminiscing in shadow and burning in routine, not only that but he often looked for the lord in guidance in times of war and decay, continuing with all of this whilst maintaining the standard training outside of military life."
"Yet, beneath the façade of a seasoned warrior, a tender heart beat. Samuel Templar, the preacher, carried the burdens of war silently, a living testament to the sacrifices him and his fellow men and women made in the pursuit of an elusive peace… that was boundlessly out of reach"
[A folder is placed on the table, Labels Samuel 'XXXX' Templar which is set alight suddenly in a slow fire that consumes the folder into ash and dust.]
{~~END OF FLASHBACK~~}
<<———————————————— >>
A soldier of war... not something he expected as a backstory but a strangely comfortable after his initial question was answered.
But, when one question was answered another came to take its place.
-/What the hell is going to happen to me?/-
Then, as if by fate, Cracks began to form from the dark shadows of this eternal prison, as if hearing his call.
!?!?
The darkness suddenly shattered itself into pieces of seemingly glass as it gave way for the wave of light to crash its blinding gaze upon such a fragile object that was Samuel, a surprised and off-guarded expression was made as he slowly and almost angelically floated in the direction of gravity, down.
The light burned sharply against his pale skin, his eyes felt blinded and burned at such light, disoriented after such a sudden flash that made him recoil in pain. He attempted to shield his own eyes from such purity that poured into that darkness, hissing in pain of such an introduction to the land of the dead.
He could see, somehow, but his sight had returned… impossible.
His feet lightly touched the floor as he slowly gathered his senses of being suddenly sent to such place and carefully looked around the room he was sent to, a white tiled room that covered every inch of the large and intimidating room he was situated at. He was confused, and rightfully so given his position right now at the moment didn't really make sense to him. He stroked his beard in a more thoughtful manner, trying to deduce what was coming next for the old man.
Peace perhaps…?
He doubted that question to be a reality as the only place God would send him down to the lowest layers of the damnation that was hell. He was a man that crossed the line when needed to be (from what his memories tell him) and that the sins of blood have soaked and stained him to the point he felt dirty, unclean.... foul. Though it felt like a heaven like setting he remained sceptical of this new predicament, he didn't see the pearly, golden gates that separate any man before entering the foretold paradise that was heaven. Nor see a typical crater or stairway that led him to the fires of hell, the screaming, the demons and all that blood etc. Then he realised he still didn't answer his own question from before.
What will be happeing to him?
Amidst the contemplation and thoughtfulness Samuel had, he had no time to prepare. A sudden gateway opened 1-2 meters away towards the general direction that he was facing. The doorway could only be described as something so majestic and pure in the sense of the word that Samuels jaw opened in such shock and clear awe at the mastery of such an entrance. The wooden door gracefully opened in an angelic and beautiful manner, the radiant glow temporarily blinded Samuel as a figure of light stepped through the door.
It was a creature of impossible beauty that it's existence shattered the views of perfection that Templar wanted to describe to in such a scene. The radiant glow that emitted from such a figure, the robs, blonde silky hair that was level to it's shoulders and finally the symmetry of such a perfect and well-formed face as it spread its wings with perfect form, made Samuel realise.
An Angel of God had arrived.
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'Judgement and Choice'
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." - Luke 6:37
[Day ???-00:00:00]
[Heaven]
[Samuel '???' Templar]
[???]
[Transcended]
<<———————————————— >>
The angel approached the visibly shocked man, a smile that reflected a feeling of being welcomed, a smile that was hard to describe the craftsmanship of said creature as he approached in a mature and gentle manner before giving Samuel a polite bow then uttering the words from the lips of a divine being.
(???) - "Welcome, Samuel Templar, to mine abode young soul. A peculiar predicament thou finds himself, before the eyes of gods creation."
[His voice that radiated a powerful influence if charisma that Templar was to astonished to speak, taking in more of a bow of humbleness to a figure of such powerful aura of tranquillity that were said from the lips of such a symbol of unity]
(???) - "Tis by fate to meet in the eyes of thy lord, thou was told that a man of your satire shall arrive upon the doorstep of thine realm."
[The angel, a product of god, a perfect creation of what humanity could be, smiled gracefully to the man that could only stare in awe at the thought of an angel that even had a small thought on even being bothered to talk to him.]
(Azrael) - "They name thy angel Azrael, a pleasure to meet thou mature soul"
Azrael, the Angel of Death itself had come to talk with Samuel, it felt more of a sick ironic joke that was placed on him, him being a man of death. The one who judges now shall be judged by the one that invokes death. He knew there was a price for his choices and decisions in the cusp of war, but not like this?! As if to read Samuels exact reaction he put up a small curtsey smile to defuse the thoughts the mortal was having.
(Azrael) - "I have come, not to judge, but shall seek for a a favour from a fellow keeper of death. So I implore thee to calmness."
[Death pointed to the man with his finger and stated with a booming voice of power. The visage changing from a pure blooded angel to the visage of a skull that stared deeply into his mind.]
Samuel could only look at some of the bony and disturbing features that preside from it skull like visage, the dark holes that were the eye sockets engraved with scriptures and biblical memories that were internalised into his white pupils, frightening to see such a twist from the angel to the opposite similar to a devil, the visage burned away as the face of the angel came back to view.
(Azrael) - "a worlds future burns eternal if it's present timeline is set into motion, I ask if thou soldier of god to accept thy invitation for conquest."
[Samuel slowly nodded his head as a sign of confirmation of what has has resigned himself to do.
The angel smiled and again gave a polite bow before gesturing to the left of Samuel.]
A section of the floor gave way, crumbling away to make space for another piece of flooring, holding a single mannequin that stood that was dressed in a soldier like uniform, something he remembered so clearly from that trip down memory lane.
A custom made uniform, a machine of fucking beauty.
<<———————————————— >>
!!!!!!WARNING!!!!!!
(IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ OVER THIS DESCRIPTION OF THIS ARMOUR, PLEASE SKIP THIS PART SO YOU CAN READ THE REST OF SAID CHAPTER!)
[DESCRIPTION]
(Picture a modern Special Action Forces uniform that draws inspiration from Crusader Armor, intricately blending tradition with cutting-edge technology. The torso is protected by lightweight, modular plates composed of advanced materials like carbon fibre and Kevlar, providing both flexibility and robust defence and protection high round calibres.)
(The design incorporates a streamlined silhouette, ensuring agility during high-stakes operations. The helmet echoes the shape of a mediaeval helm but integrates state-of-the-art communication systems and night vision capabilities. The uniform features a dark, matte colour palette for effective camouflage, with subtle Crusader cross motifs strategically placed to honour the inspiration.)
(Additionally, the uniform includes adjustable joints and articulated sections, allowing for a wide range of motion without compromising protection. Pockets and pouches are seamlessly integrated for carrying modern tactical equipment, maintaining functionality while paying homage to the historic Crusader aesthetic. Overall, this specialised uniform merges the iconic elements of Crusader Armor with the demands of contemporary warfare.)
(And let's not forget that helmet, a hybrid of such ingenuity between the helmets inspired by the previous integrations of the Crusader and Templar helmets from the past. Forged and moulded into one that sported the look of a crusader helm but its functionality and modern aesthetic.
Envision a Crusader-inspired helmet seamlessly merging historical design with contemporary military-grade equipment:)
Visor Technology: The helmet's visor is equipped with a heads-up display (HUD) offering real-time data, navigation information, and targeting details, akin to cutting-edge smart glasses.
Integrated Gas Mask: A compact and efficient military-grade gas mask is integrated into the helm, providing protection against various chemical threats.
Night Vision Module: The helmet features a detachable night vision module, utilising the latest technology available in 2017 for enhanced visibility in low-light environments.
Communication Suite: State-of-the-art communication systems are embedded, including a microphone and bone-conduction earpiece for clear and discreet communication.
LED Lighting: Built-in LED lights, utilising energy-efficient technology, offer adjustable illumination for various scenarios without compromising the operator's position.
Helmet-Mounted Camera: A discreet high-definition camera is integrated, recording mission footage for review and analysis using contemporary storage solutions.
Lightweight Ballistic Protection: The helm incorporates lightweight yet highly effective ballistic materials, providing protection against projectiles while ensuring the operator's comfort.
Adjustable Ventilation: The helm includes an adjustable ventilation system to regulate airflow and prevent overheating during prolonged use.
(This 2017 version of the Crusader-inspired helmet reflects the technological advancements of the time, enhancing the capabilities of Special Action Forces with a harmonious blend of historical aesthetics and cutting-edge functionality.)
<<———————————————— >>
The pure complexity of said armour was nothing more then a machine or war, designed for it, built for it, and for the lords sake it was a Engine of Death. However, he was stumped by the name of said uniform gaining a small headache from even muttering the the words in his head. A name that was so familiar to him, too familiar…
-/Crusader… my old code name?/-
[The angel in question gave only being given a small smile and a following nod of it's head as if he can hear his thoughts.]
(Azrael) - "Indeed fellow mortal"
-/wait.. you can hear my thoughts?!/-
[He was surprised at most of the realisation of a telepathic angel as he turned to meet it's holy gaze upon him.]
-/Then tell me this! What the hell happened to me? My body as a whole?/-
(Azrael) - "Take a look yourself my child"
A mirror was formed in front of him, he turned around as he took his mask of to only see a charred and unrecognisable corpse that stared back at him, the red pupils that lit dimly within his eye sockets, the flesh torn and burned with only patches of skin that survived, his hair and beard now turned to ash as the decrepit grin was plastered across his face and revealed itself from the right side of the exposed bone. He can only shudder in horror of what he could only describe as a creature, an alien, a demon.
-/Fucking hell, I look like my old mate Simon/-
He touched his face, the slimes and bumpy texture that slide of his hands felt the sticky and thick residue of blood that had stained himself upon his skin.
His body, now a carcass, a malnourished burnt visage of what he once was stood before him with his guts, thankfully, still intact as a boney visage around his stomach and the decay that was visible around the pathetic skin that he wore.
His throat squeezes shut, a deep sense of uneasiness is visible from the reaction he had, a flutter of panic coursed over him and was consumed by desperate disposer before the mirror slowly faded away.
[After a brief moment of calm, Samuel then try's to politely refuse such an offer to take up arms once again.]
-/With all do respect Mr Azrael, I have already done my duty in life./-
[He approaches him and faces him eye to eye to this angel, a one to one conversation began as such.]
(Azrael) - "Thy Lord requires the assistance of his chosen one, you shall be sent to the destination in question Sir Knight. That is, if you take thine opportunity."
-/Then what does God need from me that is so important? why me?/-
[He quickly approached the angel as he, again, questioned the angel liability, challenging said principles that were laid before him.]
-/What makes you think I shall accept this?/-
[Not even a hint of anger or annoyance was seen from the face of the figure that he challenged, instead he sighed in amusement as he said the following words before returning to a smile]
(Azrael) - "He simply foresaw it."
An awkward silence of astonishment came past after those words, Samuel was stumped, he truly didn't know what to actually do with such an opportunity for his supposed redemption for honour.
A choice between both of course knowing that judgement will be upon him for deciding the fact on being either sent to hell or heaven (knowing what will happen). And continuing his service and being alive, it was an infuriating and difficult choice to make in such limited time too as he knew they obviously know what he obviously wants to do. Hell, to be honest this felt familiar, almost reminding him of that story of Jonah and god, how Jonah disobeyed god and was punished. But still, the fact that the angel had foreseen such a decision before him felt to him like his death was like a stage for an audience above him, like those bloody politicians! He rolled his hands into a fist, tightly squeezing them before letting go with a sigh.
Not like he had a choice.
<<———————————————— >>
The Call Of Duty
"Revenge is like a ghost... It takes over every man it touches... Its thirst cannot be quenched... Until the last man standing has fallen..." - Makarov
He suited up in his attire as the humongous, mass of steel equipped himself with his own armour. the feeling of it almost nostalgic considering he's "dead", not like that matters at this point, he accepted the choice to be chosen and that was that. Azrael was kindly able to equip him with the essentials such as his usual usage of magazines such as the 55gr 5.56 NATO ammunition alongside his Faxon ION that is slung besides his bag and Mossberg 940 Pro Tactical situated with regular and incendiary shells for an extra punch. He had only a set amount of ammo before running out, so he selected to himself a Kukri as a suitable mele weapon, until of course he finds a better way of producing something similar to ammo.
Rations and ammo prepared, the many essentials he needed being all collected and stored within his chest armour and bag and finally finishing by plating up.
He stood in front of the angel as it gave out what seemed to be a mission brief on what is happening and what this supposed "mission" is. He can communicate with others such as the angel and others with the earpieces he can supply as well as a limited selection and amount of ammo or something special every five days, which obviously confused Samuel of why that was the case. That was until he was told that to balance the instability of power that may happen if he where to arrive there due to transmigration being more finicky to really maintain they had to limit him with the amount of resources that he can get into five days maximum.
Speaking of the world he was supposed to be sent to, apparently they have required the use of magic even with their under-developed advancements. Due to this use of magic coming from the artifacts that these gods give to those of ambition or a sense of something more
A vision.
According to Azrael, they contain the 7 elements that have been situated in these certain country's, only providing me with the more "important" characters.
Anemo - belonging to the god Barbatos (Freedom)
Geo - Ruled by Rex Lapis (Morax)
Electro - A shogun Named Baal (Ei)
Cryo - Tsaritsa (Unknown)
Dendro - Nahida (A fountain of wisdom)
Fontaine - Focalors [presumed dead]
Pyro - ????
This new information that was unravelling towards him didn't surprise Samuel, not at all, due to the fact he:
A) Didn't Gave a shit anymore
&
B) Of course he was going to be transferred into some bullshit fantasy world with gods and magic powers
He could only prayed to God for protection from the unknown dangers that he shall face as the gateway was opened, the entrance more reminiscent to the night sky of Earth... Earth. he knew he was going to miss his previous life, of course he would! the brotherhood he once had, his old family that shall never see again, possibly grieving at a time like this. that was.... understandable.
Before he went through the portal he felt the angel stop him with a hand upon Samuels shoulder before speaking.
(Azrael) - "Remember, your the Left Hand Of God now, give justice to the sinners below... Crusader."
The angel and him look at each other, a small gap of silence was made, only to be broken by the reassuring smile of Azrael, nodding his head to the man of god. Samuel returned the gesture before walking into the abyss...
Operation: "Righteous Resolve"
[February 5th 1545 A.D. -00:01:53]
[Teyvat Mondstadt]
[Sgt Samuel 'Crusader' Templar]
[Left Hand Of God]
[In Action]
