Prologue(2) -Revised

It was one of those silent nights that would have made normal people shiver from an unseen and unheard spectre where we found ourselves. Phil, Pat, Lanky, myself, and the other unnamed mob characters made our way up towards Murken in our remaining four Jeep wagons (E/N: Revised "G Wagon" with "Jeep Wagon" since most military vehicles were usually called Jeeps I think). They were filled to the brim with the remnants of our battalion.

While straining my eyes to detect for any potential threats in the distance, Phil's cold voice came through the headsets—unwavering and calm as he started assigning orders. "Gentlemen, remember to maintain a slow and steady pace—keeping all lights extinguished. Gunners, hold your fire unless I explicitly authorize it or it's absolutely necessary. We absolutely cannot afford to expose our location; the success of this mission hinges on our stealth. All gunners and drivers switch to tactical vision and remain vigilant. Major out."

In unison, we responded in hushed but resolute tones.

As we embarked on what could very well be our ultimate mission or our last day in this forsaken world, my thoughts began to drift. Back to a time when happiness was not a distant memory.

I scolded myself internally, recalling the Major's caution from chapter one.

'Am I breaking the fourth wall already? This isn't a page from Gintama, after all.' a strangely equine muttered in my mind.

'Huh?! Who's speaking?' I mentally inquired.

'No one. Keep going.' the strangely equine voice responded.

I squinted my eyes, attempting to locate the source of the irritating voice, which sounded like a mash of a horse and donkey.

(I don't sound like that) - hmak27230

(Are you sure about that, mate? Even I'm here—and probably the readers too—could tell this is some kind of meta fourth wall-breaking bullcrap. Besides, it IS your story. Maybe poor Rex is having a psychotic breakdown after being in a terrible position for so long…) - Kyen_Syr

My suspicions deepened when no one replied. But really?! A flashback at this moment, that's a glaring warning sign in any narrative.

===+===

While the flashback was beginning to happen, the Author and Editor holed up in a standard theater room as the following began to play out—in their view—like a movie. Sadly, there is no evidence of a demonic Victorian-era butler named "Sebastian" and a young master named "Ciel" here. Maybe a visit from everyone's favorite isekai cliche thing: Truck-kun.

==+==

The earliest memory I could recollect took me back to when I was only three years old in the year 2006.

Life in those days was uncomplicated. It was a world consisting of only Dad, Mom, and myself. We didn't possess great wealth, but we found happiness in simplicity, much like the idyllic households often depicted in Pixar films. This was all true until 2025, of course, though I can't be certain if Pixar still exists now, given the ongoing global extinction-level crisis. When resources become scarce, it's no surprise that the government starts confiscating them from what they consider 'non-essential sources.'

(If Pixar doesn't exist in this setting, Rex, all one has to do is shank the fucker who started it.) - Kyen_Syr

In our quaint hometown of Jefferson, Texas, my parents—both Dad and Mom—managed a local convenience store. It had been a place where you could find an array of items—ranging from trinkets and sweets to canned goods, home essentials, and microwavable meals—which were just about everything you'd expect from a store of its size.

Our little store had been well-loved in our part of town, though that was not enough to set it apart much in a close-knit community where nearly everyone knew each other.

We didn't bother to deal in unique or unconventional merchandise. When I inquired with my dad on why we didn't offer anything more exciting, he'd reply, "Uniqueness seldom pays off, but when it does, the rewards are substantial. For folks like us, it takes a fair bit of capital before we can take such risks." Regrettably, we never did manage to amass the necessary capital.

(I blame inflation.) - Kyen_Syr

In the year 2009 and on an inconspicuous day, our little family was filled with bubbling excitement.

You might wonder why we were so thrilled?

Well, it was the day we were going to welcome my little brother into the world, ticking off a cherished item from my bucket list—becoming a big brother.

I sat on a bench outside my mom's hospital room, my legs dancing with anticipation. Passersby couldn't help but offer me knowing smiles. My faithful companion—a cherished stuffed Charmander—sat beside me, waiting to be gifted to my baby brother. Although parting with my two-year partner wasn't easy, it was the duty of a big brother to provide for his younger sibling.

(I won't lie. Having a stuffed Charmander when you are about to welcome a new family member into the world is definitely adorable. I wonder if the Author might plan on something to do with Pokemon in the future chapters?) - Kyen_Syr

"Rex?"

Huh? My father's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I noticed that he looked a bit disheveled with his dark hair slightly tousled and his eyes somewhat red.

"Yes, Dad?"

"Your mom is about to give birth. How about you go inside and offer her some words of encouragement before it all starts?"

"Sure, Dad!" I had already congratulated her once, but I'd heard that childbirth could be painful. So, by giving double support, I figured it should hurt only half as much, right?

(Adorable that you'd think that, young Rex. If only that actually worked.) - Kyen_Syr

As I dashed into the hospital room—brimming with excitement—and reached my mom's bedside, I hadn't quite caught the pitying glances exchanged by the nurses and doctors.

"Hey, Mom!" I greeted my mom cheerfully—my young voice being a bit high-pitched.

"Quiet down, Rex. This is a hospital and don't run in the hallways," she gently scolded.

"Hehe, sorry about that, Mom," I said, sheepishly rubbing the back of my head.

After the embarrassing moment of my childhood passed, I took a good look at my mom. Her reddish-brown hair was slightly disheveled and those honey-amber eyes held some kind of warmth in them that could soothe anyone. Her complexion appeared pale—littered with light sweat—but I brushed it off as something normal during childbirth at the time.

"Are you okay, Mom?" I asked.

"Of course, honey. It's just that the baby seems quite eager to make an entrance," she replied with her voice slightly trembling in pain and raspy.

An idea popped into my head. I placed my hands gently on her belly and whispered in an attempt to soothe my younger brother, "There, there, big brother is here."

"Does that feel better, Mom?"

"Why, yes, it does, thanks, young man," she chuckled. "You're going to be a great big brother, aren't you?"

"Of course, I will! It's only natural for a boy to understand a boy."

"Haha, you really want a little brother, don't you? What if it turns out to be a girl?"

"Come on, Mom, no need to play games. Dad already told me it's going to be a boy!"

"Haha, your dad can never keep a secret. I wanted to surprise you," she said, studying me closely. "Come closer, Rex, I want to feel you."

(Dads never could hold a secret for long, but maybe Rex's dad was a bit special?) - Kyen_Syr

"O-okay," I meekly replied.

As I leaned in, my mother's frail hand gently stroked my face. Blushing lightly, I heard her say, "You have your father's hair and my eyes, Rex. You truly are our child. Promise me that, no matter how this child looks or acts, you'll love and protect them just like we have done for you."

"Of course, I will, Mom. You don't have to act like I won't."

"I know, sweetie. I know. It's just that..."

"Just what, Mom?"

"Nothing, Rex. It's nothing," she weakly replied, turning her gaze toward the window.

At that moment, I felt compelled to say these words, "Goodbye, Mom. I love you."

I could see her reflection in the window. Her widened eyes and tears streamed down her face as she softly replied, "I love you too, Rex."

I nodded and gently rubbed her back before the doctor announced it was time. I quietly left the room, passed my father, and sat on the bench with a now somber expression.

An hour later, my dad returned to break the news of my mother's passing. I nodded weakly, eyes brimming with tears, as I overheard someone mentioning postmortem birth.

(*side-eyes the author* You had to go there, huh? Poor Rex ;-;) - Kyen_Syr

(Are you going to keep talking or can we watch in peace) -hmak27230

A month later, I was finally allowed to meet my baby brother and hold him. His striking resemblance to my mother did nothing to diminish my affection. As I cradled him, I gently stroked his face, just as my mother had done to me, and whispered, "Hello, Luke."

A year later—in 2010—my grandmother, my mother's mom, succumbed to the grief of losing her only daughter. Grandpa reunited with her in 2011.

In the following year, my mother's two older brothers and their families severed all ties with our dad. They assured me that my younger brother Luke and I were welcome to visit whenever we pleased. Although I had no intention of taking them up on that offer, I would ensure Luke did the same. As for my dad's side of the family, I had never been interested in tracing his roots. I firmly believed that family transcended blood; true bonds ran deeper than mere genetics.

In 2013, I stumbled upon the world of Pokémon, discovering it was more than just a game. It was also an anime.

After discovering Pokémon a year ago, my fascination with anime—or otaku culture— deepened. It felt like my life was taking a turn for the better.

2015 marked another turning point in our family when my dad decided to return to school—demonstrating his commitment to personal growth. Both Luke and I were impressed with his decisions which earned our support in his endeavors.

It also did not take long before something happened to me—I received my first confession and entered my first relationship with a girl from my school. This chapter in my life would prove to ultimately be my sole romantic experience. In 2017, our relationship came to an end when we both no longer felt that "spark" between us and boredom took over.

Towards the end of the 2010 decade, two other events happened. Dad made a significant career change by selling the convenience store and assuming the role of a warehouse manager at FedEx. The other event was tragic as there was a school shooter at Luke's school. Luke had been left unharmed, but the assailant had a grievance with one of Luke's teachers and paid a grave price.

(School shooters need a LOT of therapy in my opinion.) - Kyen_Syr

Towards the start of the 2020 decade, our little family received more fortunate encounters. My dad achieved a promotion at work, though the details eluded my comprehension. I also began my journey in Texas Tech while Dad's professional life continued to ascend and Luke earned acceptance into a gifted program.

During my time in university, I had secured an internship at Intel while also keeping Luke away from a troublesome crowd that he was starting to associate with. It was also hard being a supportive big brother to him during this time, but it always felt right to make sure he grew up into an upright young man.

In 2023, my dad pursued further education, and Luke emerged as the student council president during his sophomore year. My own life remained relatively uneventful compared to them,but I maintained a 3.7 GPA—further securing potential high-paying jobs in the future.

I had no idea that in 2024, World War Three would break out. Germany declared war, and in a month, the U.S. initiated the draft. In a desperate bid to protect my family, I enlisted before my dad or brother could be conscripted. A year after getting enlisted, I crossed paths with the Major and the first batch of recruits. They all exuded protagonist-like energy, whereas I felt more like a side character. I had my first kill which was an experience that left me strangely unfazed with just a lingering sense of oddity.

Over a year later, only the Major, the Captain, "Fatty," and I remained. It seemed natural for the bravest and the cowardly to meet their fate first, leaving characters like me and Fatty, the NPCs, to soldier on. Even if we met our end, there was always the unsettling possibility of a respawn.

(To be honest, if you had totems of Undying…) - Kyen_Syr

In 2027, our unit arrived in Germany and were tasked with the daunting duty of constructing trenches. Meanwhile, my dad enrolled in the military as they came looking for Luke. It didn't take too long after that to have all communication with our loved ones dwindled to nothing. Letters were no longer permitted and all channels were reserved for military use. The same applies to our internet access. It didn't bother me that much, considering that Shonen Jump had gone on hiatus. The very next year after that, we received the disheartening news that Japan had fallen.

I resigned myself to never discovering the fate of One Piece, the real one, as it was tantalizingly close to its conclusion. I would accept no ending that wasn't crafted by Oda.

(Understandable) - hmak27230

(Might not be a big fan of OP, but +1) - Kyen_Syr

Between the years of 2030 and 2031, our battalion lost a significant amount of recruits. Most of them were inexperienced and died on their first mission, but the others were better trained with a stronger sense of survival. Jigsaw would be proud of their will to live.

Which brings us to the year 2032—in a world defined by the horrors of war—and the night which would signify everything.

===[Flashback End]===

"Alright, boys, halt," the Major's voice broke through the crackling radio, snapping me out of my momentary daydream.

(Movie's over. I give it a 10/10 on Google.) - Kyen_Syr

Funny, it's a recurring theme—I keep drifting off, yet somehow, I remain unscathed. Well, forget a mere flashback; that was practically a life story. I can't shake the feeling that my luck is running out today. Curse it all, this predicament is all thanks to Lanky and the Major for making me a named character!

As the Jeeps came to a gradual halt, Phil disembarked with me trailing after him. "We're proceeding on foot from here. Conceal the vehicles out of sight, gear up, and let's move!"

One of the unnamed NPCs chimed in, "But Major, we're still three kliks away from the base, and it's an uphill climb. It won't be easy to seize the aircraft," he argued.

"I understand, Fritz," the Major responded, giving the poor guy a name and sealing his fate. "However, vehicles are cumbersome in these tight quarters and easily detectable. On foot, we can leverage the cover of the trees and avoid enemy detection. No more questioning my orders; let's move quickly!"

By the time we closed within two clicks of our destination, we spotted a group of scouts guarding the perimeter with their flashlight helmets in the distance.

Phil outlined our next steps. "Alright, boys, here's the plan. It appears that Fortune is smiling on us today—there are only three scouts. Ensure your weapons are equipped with silencers. We'll split into three squads and take out the scouts. Make sure not to disrupt their flashlight beams or radios, as it will raise the alarm. But also, avoid stepping into the light. Afterward, we'll regroup and rendezvous over there!" He pointed to a shadowy cliff well within striking distance, yet devoid of any illuminations.

It's undoubtedly a trap, and Phil is well aware of it. I'd wager even the Germans wouldn't assume we're foolish enough to fall for it.

We responded with unanimous affirmations before dividing into three teams, each led by Phil, Fatty, and myself. I chose not to scrutinize or describe the five members of my squad; I didn't want to attract any undue attention or reduce their chances of survival further.

Our target resembled a character out of a hitman video game. He stood in an open clearing, mechanically repositioning himself every ten seconds to scan each direction with his flashlight.

We encircled him, maintaining a safe distance from any visible beams of light. I signaled to one of my men, who—like me—sported a tactical helmet equipped with night vision. He tossed a hefty rock against a nearby tree and created a sound directly behind our unsuspecting target.

The distraction made the target jerk around 180 degrees with his back now facing me. In that split second, I darted behind him, drawing Simon's switchblade, a gift from Phil. I swiftly covered the target's mouth and slashed his throat—cutting right through the carotid artery. I exerted as much force as possible to ensure his motions remained fluid and inconspicuous, preventing any sudden, jerky movements that might draw unwanted attention.

As his life ebbed away, I proceeded to wrap his throat with layers of adhesive bandage tape—concealing any blood. I secured my grip around his wrist to ensure the flashlight remained in his hand. I then affixed his right fist with tape to prevent any accidental drops. Holding him in front of me, I began to move slowly, mirroring his periodic rotations to give the appearance that all was in order.

No distress signal emanated from his radio, leading me to believe we were in the clear, at least for the time being. I propped him upright against a tree and signaled my squad. "Let's move. This will be discovered soon, and we need to reach our destination."

With nods of affirmation, my team followed me silently up the hill—attempting to move stealthily toward the cliff by keeping our footsteps quiet. We hugged the earth and sought cover beneath the trees to evade any prying eyes.

We reached the destination first but soon heard two groups approaching from the left and right. Given the situation, we assumed defensive positions, prepared to respond if they proved to be hostile.

However, our fears were quickly assuaged as both parties contacted us through our radios. The distinctive voices of Phil and Pat were unmistakable. As we regrouped and began to strategize our next steps, our luck ran out.

A cacophony of German screams and sirens pierced through the base. My time spent in this country had taught me that it was an alert of intruders. Common sense dictated that it didn't require genius-level intellect to identify the intruders.

Panic started to grip some of our group, but Phil's voice cut through the chaos. "Alright, boys, we've run out of time for delays. They'll be upon us any moment now. We're breaking through that wall, locating the aircraft, and getting out of here. Before anyone questions our approach to breaching the wall, let Pat demonstrate."

Pat then removed his backpack and unveiled a sizable case, its purpose unmistakable to all of us. There it was, the Mk153 SMAW, a shoulder rocket launcher capable of blasting a hole through that concrete wall.

"Stay focused, boys! I'm sure you all recognize that this position is a textbook trap set by those pesky Germans. But precisely because it's so obvious, they might doubt we'd be foolish enough to take it. That doesn't mean it won't be heavily guarded; it just means they'll be slow to react. By 'slow,' I mean about five seconds. We're going to exploit that brief window to eliminate all the enemy infantry on that side of the wall after Pat blows it open, and then locate that plane. You'll be doing it with these," Phil declared as he unveiled a cache of about 15 grenades from his pack. As Pat would be utilizing the SMAW, it meant someone would have to go without one.

"Rex, you're our best shot here, so normally you'd be providing cover fire with my rifle. However, Lanky will take on that responsibility."

All heads nodded in agreement. It was a logical choice—considering Lanky was our most proficient pilot—and we needed him to stay out of harm's way. Even if we acquired the plane, we'd be like sitting ducks without him.

"Alright, boys. This is the moment. I won't sugarcoat it and say we'll all make it through because we won't. Even if we manage to escape, only a few of us will reach the ship. Everyone here, except for Lanky, is expendable. But I do hope that as many of you as possible will make it out. So, please, avoid any reckless actions that could jeopardize all our lives. Understood?"

Our collective response was clear.

"Alright, it's showtime, boys. Pat, blow that blasted wall."

Fatty hoisted the SMAW onto his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. An explosive blast erupted near the cliffside of Murker—instantly drawing attention—but before the Germans could react, their intentions were drowned out by the shouts of American soldiers.

As we armed our grenades and sprinted through the crumbling concrete, Lanky moved to the front, taking point, and our ultimate mission commenced.