Prologue: War and Blood

The faint thundering roars of explosions, gunshots, and panic. The smell of gunpowder, iron, and sweat. Fresh air is no longer found along this broken city filled with debris, smoke and fire. The atmosphere itself is sickening. It easily chokes those who are not ready for this sight. Actually, I pray to the Goddess that this sight may not reach the eyes of the unprepared. If the figure of Hell is to be described in any scripture you believe in, then this is what it might as well be. However, this isn't the time to take in the surroundings as the blood curdling screams of my platoon fills my ears. Bullets fly by mere inches and centimeters away from our position, any one of them coming closer at having our blood painting the halls of this sacred place, a temple dedicated to the Goddess Yvel, it's almost poetic how her light might as well be the protective force holding back evil. My body yearns for rest, it calls to flee but my mind refuses to give in, because if I decide to hesitate even for a single second, I might breathe my last.

"PRIVATE VIMONT, GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS" An echoing scream calls out to me before the wall I hid behind starts crumbling down, with the last sliver of strength left within my body, I pick myself up and run as fast as I can deeper within the Temple, stumbling into a roll as I barely feel the debris of glass and cobblestone strike the floor. The blinding sunlight spills through the breach as the glow of a magic circle charges behind the cloud of dust. A Deo Volus has targetted the Temple. It could only mean death to those on the other end of it. My eyes look up at the glowing circle and my mind races to think. Run? No, there is no other way out. Hide? There is nothing we can do. Pray? It is hopeless. This is it... I'm going to die. How did it turn out like this? This wasn't supposed to happen. All I wanted was to see my sister again. Damn this war. Damn the Imperium. DAMN IT ALL. In a flash, the Deo Volus launched it's attack. A concentrated source of mana, compressed into a single shot. As it touched the ground, all I could see was the flash of white, and the hot searing pain of heat that followed after. My body flew back like I weighed nothing and as I hit the statue behind me, all I could see, hear, and feel after, was nothing. I...died.

"...I sense rage and determination. He could be the next..."

"...A simple footsoldier? Preposterous, he could barely stand..."

"... We'll see where his perseverance lies..."

Voices? Have I arrived at the afterlife? Who are you?

"...HAHA! He can hear us! I told you he was the one! We should prepare!.."

"...Shut it you muscle head, we cannot know that for sure..."

So noisy. What happened? Am I alive? No. Surely not. That spell decimates anything that it hits. Nothing is left of me. I am dead.

"...You are. However you are also alive. You hang by a single thread, quite surprising really..."

I feel nothing. Yet I feel pain. My mind hurts. I cannot breathe.

"Focus young one, get up. Your fight is not over..."

What?

"GET UP"

As if it were by command, my eyes open to the blurry scene of dust and smoke surrounding this dark environment. I cough out, gasping for air as I try to turn over before my grasp slips and I fall on my side. The sight in my eyes return and among the darkness, I stare at my hand, realizing that it is bathed in crimson liquid. Blood. My blood, that has created a pool from under my body. I realize that it is my own yet I refused to scream. Was it the lack of air from my lungs? Or have I finally lost my senses?

Whatever the reason might be, I needed to find out what the fuck happened. The Deo Volus did fire. It did hit. So why am I still alive? The answer to that question is soon answered when I sat up and looked at my surroundings. It seemed like the floor gave out when the spell hit, giving way to some sort of a catacombs underneath the Temple. I try to reach out to my belt, hoping to find my lantern but as I did so, I feel no response from my right arm. I turn my head to look and is greeted by the sight of a torn uniform and the lack of a forearm. Again, I refuse to scream yet it did seem like my senses came back as my breathing becomes erratic and I start to panic while I try to keep my mind together as to how I have not bled out at the moment. Tearing off a piece of my own uniform, more specifically the torn sleeve, I would try and make a makeshift tournique, hoping it would suffice as I try to figure out what the hell is going on.

I take a deep breath and try to collect myself. With my good hand, I would reach over and grab my lantern, focusing the flow of mana through this device, allowing it to glow and give a decent radius of light around the source. Although, the crystal inside was a little bit cracked, causing the light it produces to dim slightly. It was an unfortunate circumstance, but it cannot be worse than having lost an arm. As the light grows and rests at a decent radius, I was immediately met with the sight of Sargeant Holey's cindered corpse, the person who called out to me back in the Temple. It seemed like he had sacrificed himself. I would yell at him for the heroics but I cannot bring myself to be disrespectful. If I were to guess, I am still alive because of him. However, I am still to apologize after as I reached over and stole his crystal bag for use of my pistol.

Standing up with what strength I have left, I lock the lantern back to my belt and unlatch the pistol from my holster, having trouble loading a mana crystal to it. I took another deep breath as I start to explore the cramped corridors of this strange tomb. Every step I take is a nightmare. My body cries out in pain as the adrenaline slowly leaves my body along with the trail of blood that drips from the countless cuts and wounds along my body, most especially the tourniquet as it appears to have quickly turned from the dark blues of our colors to crimson red. My strength is slowly fading away, my eyes are starting to become heavier but I cannot stop now, I need to get out of here. The opposing forces might figure out about this tomb and start raiding it. I cannot stay here when that happens. I take evey painful step forward and move down every dark and creepy hallway. It is strange that none of the Scouts have found out about this. Considering the size of this labyrinth. Turning a corner, I am greeted by a massive broken door. It looked like it was originally made to keep people out...or keep something in. I cannot give in to my curiosity though as I start making my way into a different corridor, but it appears that I wasn't given much of a choice as the Rebels found me.

Shit, I'm cornered. I turned and ran to the door, diving through the gap of the door and pushing the door closed as it quickly gets riddled with bullet holes, I quickly search the sides to see a locking mechanism and I do find a massive plank that acts as a stopper. I pull the plank and with a loud crash, it rests on the iron hooks along the door. No time to think, I needed to find cover. I turn to find put that there isn't much cover within this hall as it houses only statues of knights, warriors, mages and rogues. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was an old museum if it weren't for the throne like scene sitting at the end of the room. That could be used as high ground and cover. I'd swiftly run over to the throne overlooking the room, greeted by the skeletal remains of what seemed to be royalty. A long rusted iron gauntlet rests against a hilt of which is clutching dearly to a sword rusted beyond use.

As I took my last step up, my life would flash before my eyes as a bullet pierces through my head. A clean shot by one of the rebels from the door. My life, ending once again as my body leans against the throne. The elegant chair toppling over from the weight of my equipment. I can hear them coming for me, breaking through the door as I take my last breaths.

It cannot end like this.