Pilot

I couldn't really tell you if the world has backfired- rather, it's going through a phase. One, that not even scientists could've predicted. That being said, the future, could only be gone-- In a blink, of an eye.

"Is it safe yet?"

"maybe... But it is still biohazard material. So it isn't stable yet."

"I see. What'll we do with it?"

"Pray. Pray we didn't just kill us all."

That isn't so bad. Is it?

Wind blew through the trees. The sun lit sky, beamed to the ground, as a new day awoken. It was only 12 PM.

A knock at the door was presented around 30 minutes later, A friend of mine, Jack, so happened to be standing there- A smile, eagerly on his face.

"Kevin." He said with a happy attitude sounding voice; Jack was the kind of kid who everyone on block knew, and he knew everyone. The kinda kid who did good on his exams, supporting his friends, while also maintaining good health and shape. He was buff at 19. Not to mention, quite positive. "Oh hey Jack" I quickly replied, with a normal tone of voice.

"Today's objectives aren't easy, nor difficult." He informed. "So," he started with a sigh: "He shouldn't be as pissed off as normal."

I probably forgot to mention a quick fact that we're currently in service. Operating full-time in the Marines. The U.S.A has recently called for a need of military recruits, as a war is currently unfolding. It's another world war except it's being fought for control of some abandoned continents. Oh, then there is that part I left out. Right..

100 years ago, the first "Human-Made" Continent was built. At first, it was only a prototype. Meaning to test out some nuclear weapons and stuff by a private militia. Well, over some 50 years ago, many were built over the ocean, and the Militia had been disbanded for population reasons. Years after, the "Militia" had attempted to kill the International World Leaders, (or IWL) from the inside out of the HQ. Fortunately they failed, prior to an already active security breach. Most of them are dead, while old leaders are yet to be found, or are rotting away in prison.

We head for the larger barrack building for breifing, after already having our equipment already.

The lieutenant was around 6"5'. He was relaxed for the most part, but also serious for the most part. He'd like to think that he was some sort of mother bear. We didn't judge.

Three squads were assigned to this mission. Squads' GTF, (Grunt Task Force) SRS, (Special Recon Services) and our squad, TFO. (Task Force One) Each of the squads contained at least 5-10 members or more depending on what the squad's purpose was. For example, the Grunts were like the front line men. Assigned to basically every mission. Special Recon Services, half the time depending on if wether or not it would be a "Going in Guns' Blazing" type mission or the opposite. (Stealth mission) If option were to occur, the squad would've been shortened. My squad is basically the more leading troop, as were also required in every mission.