Chapter 1

The Fluttering of a butterfly can be heard, as the wisp fluttered by.

"What… What happened?'

Memories of a rookie flash through his mind.

'Ah… Yes… I Remember Now.'

He remembered as he took out his last cigar from his coat pocket, a Cuban cigar, not the phantom one RND made. It did not reach the level of one yet, but since it's his last moment, might as well enjoy a real one.

Not as healthy as the former, but the latter was more of an acquired taste, and he could see why

Ahab grimaced from the injuries he received from his fight with David. The rookie was better than they thought. Ironically, he is going to die the same way his, or rather their mentor died. By the hands of their disciple. Even though it was not originally his memories, he is no longer whoever he was before, he is now Ahab, the Phantom of Ishmael.

The whole operation of selling the world seemed to work out in the end. As the self-destruction of outer heaven, along with the destruction of its facilities in the background, Solid turned and ran to die another day as the self-destruct sequence counted down. Genuinely believing that he beat and gravely injured the real Big Boss.

'Huh… didn't think a rocket launcher could be used to create shrapnel from the environment'. Ahab thought as he laid his back to the wall, slowly bleeding out through the shrapnel sticking out of his chest and through his cut-off left leg. 'Ironic…...' mused Ahab 'to be killed by something that did not kill me the first time…. Even taking more of my body away.'

Ahab knew very well that this was it. His legend, or rather 'Big Boss' was going to end today. But it was only going to be temporary. Until Ishmael was truly ready to go against the patriots, then, the world, for treating soldiers like himself as tools to be thrown away. Ahab, on the other hand, was truly going to become a phantom in meaning. He finally found out his existence a very long time ago, and the tape from Ishmael finally confirmed it. He accepted it, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Not. One. Bit.

It didn't matter, he did it for one person and one person only for this mission. His raison d'etre, complete.

Although he could've gone without the speech at the end, talking is not his forte, it was even painful and suspicious even to himself, but solid was none the wiser. He would usually leave that sort of thing to Kaz, or Ocelot. Wherever they are.

[CALL]

Huh… maybe he does have the decency to say goodbye…

He flicked on the old I-droid, why they regressed and went with the old radio fossil he will never know. But hopefully, Ishmael will come up with something from the research done here, it was abrupt but was extremely efficient and successful. Especially since all the budget was used there and barely any of it on the Metal Gear. Since it was all part of the ruse, Ahab used the GMP on more useful endeavors with tried and tested equipment and weapons in which the schematics could easily be uploaded covertly to Ishmael, it wouldn't do to spend 95% of the budget on recreating old Sal, just for a ruse. It was too wasteful. So just a "small" 5% was used instead on TX-55 for the ruse. He's an efficient contributor, not a wasteful businessman.

"Hello, 'Ahab.'"

"' Ishmael'…You've kept me waiting huh?" He said while lighting his cigar

"I just wanted you to know that I've made it out safely. They won't suspect a thing. You played your role perfectly."

"I see… That's good. So at least I've done something right here." He calmly stated, not expecting the outcome with a rookie like Solid Snake could bring.

"… I never expected him to succeed." Replied 'Ishmael', with some finality to his tone

"Then it seems that Solid Snake was more competent than either of us gave him credit for…"

He took a puff from it, exhaling some smoke, without a single care in heaven

"… Quite a heavy tuition for such a meager lesson… (fuuuu)"

"It's over. He's destroyed the 'Metal Gear' and activated the Self-Destruct Sequence. Outer Heaven will go up in smoke in a matter of minutes, and the public will think that "Big Boss" Died with it." Even on the other side, Ishmael could hear the sirens.

"… I see. Are you sure you can't escape?"

'Is he worried about me? Huh, haven't had anyone care for my well-being in a long time. Besides my "family" of course'

"Positive. He got me good… I can't feel my lower body. This is it for me, Ishmael. No amount of Digoxin will help me up this time." One of the things that he could easily recall from his previous life as a medic could tell him that. Funny enough, he was still practicing medicine with a different practice, but with a more permanent cure throughout the remainder of his half-life.

He was a helluva Medic, a shame he wasn't able to put it into actual practice one last time…

"…Outer Heaven won't die with you." He affirmed to Ahab "As long as a Man carrying the name of Big Boss is alive. There will always be someone striving to create a nation for soldiers."

Ahab took another drag before he exhaled "…. (fuuuuuu)"

"…Are you familiar with Zanzibar Land?"

"How could I not…? Tselinoyarsk…The location of our first and last mission as part of the Fox Unit…."

"…Last I heard of it. They'd splintered off from the Soviet Union and became their own state…"

"It-…" Ishmael started before he cut himself off

"…No, never mind. It's not something you need to worry about anymore…Don't worry. I'll Keep our Dream alive…" Ishmael affirmed

Ishmael's tone became more respectful and prouder. As this was one of his most loyal Brother-in-Arms who together, after today, became the man who sold the world.

"From today onward… The name of "Big Boss" is something you'll no longer have to bear… Thank you, Ahab…. And Goodbye."

"Ha Ha … So, my mission is finally coming to an end. After so long." A huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders, as peace within emptiness blossoms within himself, after so long…

"It was my pleasure, Ishmael… No, Big Boss." And he meant it.

There's no point in regrets anymore.... Just.... The end....

Ahab cuts the connection through his droid on his coat pocket. The blaring alarms suddenly start to be out of focus, becoming silent as his body was slowly shutting down.

Ahab slowly closed his eyes, not stopping in his last moments to enjoy his cigar, enjoying the petals billowing around him. The countdown to the self-destruction sequence slowly reached zero.

'….. Then I guess… My battle really is over….'

He finally closed his eyes, as everything went suddenly white… then absolute darkness…

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Howard blacked out in a blaze of glory, taking down as many bastards with him while the world was ending. All he wanted to do was go to his first day of college. He honestly did not know what to expect if he was alive or dead. If dead, hopefully, heaven or some semblance like it, possibly hell, or something like it (he wasn't all that religious, he just focused more on being a decent person in an indecent world while spiritually uplifting himself).

Instead, he woke up revitalized in a strange way, sometime in the night, bare naked, and all his possessions TAKEN. He wasn't bothered by the fact that he was in the middle of the forest, naked, or completely isolated from any civilization of intelligent life.

It was the fact that he had nothing on HIM that was bothering him.

He was carrying all the brand-new handmade tech that he made as well as his personal data storage that bothered him. He just learned how to use quartz to make a Data storage (through the Nazi files that his grandfather gave him secretly before his 16 birthday) that had enough space to put in the information of an entire civilization by 20% of the storage and more. In fact, he already did so. Everything of importance, military strategy, schematics, architecture, engineering, industrialization, medicine, technological advances, weapons, science, fashion (it's important to LOOK good), the whole 9 yards.

He may or may not have had to walk around a couple of walls here and there.

Of course, after all, that was done, he downloaded the unnecessary things after a month. Culture, T.V. shows, art of all kinds, topics of interest, history (had to completely comb through to be unbiased and have both sides of the story as well, it was a bitch to sort through), mythologies, videogames, interesting subjects of information to improve on one's life as well as any and all situations, even some philosophy (he's not a hippie), and music of any, and all kinds, only the good stuff, only ones that can be enjoyed or worth listing too. Not forgetting any of the eternal classics for sure.

Just because he could

Sadly…... he wasn't able to input any Porn yet. There was still a lot to go through that he saved for later view. But the world went to shit before he can start to do so.

*sigh* what a waste…

Honestly, he didn't know what to do after he woke up, to find that he was stripped of his possessions., and only a couple minutes after the fact he realized he was buck naked, or how he's not dead. The only thing that was not taken was his custom watch, which told him it was 2 in the morning. '(sigh) waking up too early again. At least it was finally helpful this time.'

He already scrounged the area for tracks, signs, or anything that can at least give him some idea of the situation or at least assist him. Nada, zero, Finito.

He exhaled and shook his head. Welp. Time to use the moon to light the way towar-

'…'

"What the fack?"

The moon was shattered. Just like a dinner plate dropped on the floor.

"(chuckles) you're not supposed to be violated~!!!" That was the beginning of a panic attack

'What the hell happened while I slept? Some schmuck decided it was a good idea to pierce the moon?... Heh… pierced. NO!!! (Slaps both sides of his face) now's not the time for dick jokes.'

Howard managed to stop his downward spiral into a nervous breakdown and focus on living

The moon was an unexpected variable, which could mean a lot of things. One of the more obvious clues was that the moon was a lot closer than it was supposed to be. The stars did not shape the constellations he recognized. And the surface was not recognizable in the way photos have shown the surface of earth's moon to be.

Conclusion: He's not in Kansas anymore

'Might as well and get a move on and hope there is a civilization on this planet.'

Walking through the forest made 1 hour feel like 4 due to his hyper mind always going more than 100 MPH. Existential questions were being made and noted.

'Though the clues are there. I only know one series whose shattered moon was a trademark of their series. However, I have not encountered any Grimm yet. Nor do I wish to confirm and deal with the reality of a dying godless world filled with sheep. Let's first deal with the issues at hand before going against problems that will come up sooner or later.'

'Hmmmmm…. need to keep an empty mind to avoid any negative emotion. Possibly need to come up with some training of empty emotion or the like. May be invaluable later on…'

He kept moving forward, the environment reminding him of Florida's cross between swamps, forests, jungles, and wetlands. There were some mountains far off into the horizon, but that was a very long way off

After 8 hours (the watch says 2), he came across a dirt road with some wooden fences following along. Howard hastened his steps into a quiet jog while keeping caution. The sound of nature masked his approach. He finally reached the outskirts of the village. The sounds of nature not lowering in the slightest.

Not, a good sign.

'A dead settlement' "cheered" Howard 'Horaaaay'

After reaching a settlement of "Nauva", whatever that means. Sounds like Spanish for nine. Anyway, Howard was a little letdown. He honestly thought the first abandoned/desecrated village would be a lot like that first village that you escape from in Skyrim. Then again, not everything is a reference in the universe. Much less any gaming references. Maybe he had his standards too high since this IS the reality he will be living in.

There were no corpses in the town square or houses. No confirming clues on whether the Grimm exist. Disappointing. If there was a dead fauns it would confirm. Or at least it would be fun to look at some of the bodies. The walls are still holding, indicating it was abandoned before the Grimm arrived, also a clue to indicate of possible Grimm or hostile environment, but an inclusive one.

Oh well, at least there seemed to be a lot of things he could scavenge and learn by searching the village. Maybe some wearable/usable clothes. Who knows? Maybe something tasteful with some flair.

'…'

'God damn it. Or is it Oum damn it now? Whatever. It's still shite.'

All he got was mismatched clothes, rags, and unimaginative farmer clothes.

'I look like a Hobo.' Grimaced Howard '…actually, I believe I fit that category now that I'm homeless and jobless… I just got a job back home!!!'

Howard just went on with it and put on the clothes to at least have some protection against the environment. And decency? Howard thinks he can eat that.

He put on grey pants (as it was the lightest one he could find in the houses. Didn't want to start absorbing heat and start cooking nuts) along with some clean looking underwear that was at least maneuverable to be in, a beige shirt, brown shaded running shoes, some strap on armor that seems to be a mix or a rather combination between skating (as in skateboarding) gear and Kevlar armor decided to have a threesome with ol' chain mail. Howard later on found a forest camo cape of sorts that hunters use to better blend with the environment. He shortened how long it would be by buttoning up the sleeves short and folding the tail in half, just enough to cover his back bordering where his pants meet his shirt, but still able to unfold and cover more if need be, along with a duffel bag to carry all his necessities

He also found a belt to tighten his pants on. It was a little big, but it would do to make it easy to put on, harder to come off. The belt could be…. Multi-purposed… As well as an emergency bandage or wrapping. The only thing missing for him was a jockstrap.

Say what you will about it. But for him, it made moving about way much better

Out of 3 quarters of the village, he only managed to find 32 pairs of socks that were still usable and fit him, all cushion sole. Thank God. It should last him a month or more if he manages not to sweat that much as well as avoid wet areas to keep his feet dry. Howard shudders at that, he does not want his feet to become 'fubar'. One of, if not the important part of survival, is mobility. For it determines if you can chase and finish off an enemy, or if you can run and live to die another day.

He has a feeling he's going to be running for a long while.

There were two important rules of survival that his grandfather taught him: One, take good care of your feet, and two, try not to do anything stupid like getting yourself killed.

He was at a good-looking house when he finally hit paydirt. On the First floor at the back of the house, he found an armory. Now it did have some security on it that you would see in a police armory, with some locks, electronic locks, lockers, and what seems to be separate alarms that run on their dust batteries. Now usually, after a certain amount of time, the batteries on alarms run out when they are attached to a running circuit. But Howard has no idea how dust works, nor does he want to risk tripping any alarms, nor any sound that would attract Grimm by entering forcefully. Of course, the locks and such would've been a problem for Howard…. If it wasn't based on earth standards of 18th-century locking.

He whistled appreciatively

There were some good-looking rifles, AR's, rifles, shotguns, pistols, a revolver, some intact ammo boxes, and…. Is that… is that a grenade launcher?

Honestly, he cannot believe his luck. A shame that it's most likely damaged. It seems to be one of those simpler and more reliable American models. Or was it another ripped-off model the Russians made? Honestly, it doesn't matter at this point. It's his.

He didn't have his lockpicking set to get in. Otherwise, we wouldn't be speaking on the details of the issues that are currently assailing him. But he did see what resembles a workshop of sorts next to the gun rack. Even though he can see them, they don't look to be in good condition. The room wasn't kept airtight and there aren't any signs of room temperature control of some kind to keep humidity below the level of oxidation to occur. There is evidence of rust on most if not all the weapons seen. Well, beggars can't be choosers. Most likely he is going to need to cannibalize all of them for parts.

The issue is if it's familiar enough for him to make something from them.

But first the locks into the armory. Seems simple enough, but a wire can be seen leading to an alarm bell.

Slow and methodical it is. Just need to find a bobby pin and something to assist in turning the lock. Doesn't seem to be sophisticated to be booby-trapped.

He went back to the front of the house to start searching. Might as well be armed with something to defend oneself. Maybe find the keys to the armory. He starts with the bottom cabinets, then works his way up to the drawers and upper cabinets. And on the 4th drawer, he found an item of interest per say.

"Ah, shite…." Cursed Howard

He found a bundle lien in the drawer of the kitchen along with a map of the current area and the known world

This confirms it. He was in the world of bloody facking evolution. Except there was no season 1 or 2 to protect him, or any child restriction rating for that matter. It may be another inclusive evidence sure. But at this point what other show, media, culture can you think of at the top of your head that uses a currency called "lien"? If he didn't start believing it at this point, later on, it was going to start slapping him in the face. Hard.

And when it starts slapping, you start realizing metaphorically what it's going to do to you.

He didn't want to be those slack-jawed idiots who don't believe in aliens and then are SUR-prised when the aliens come knocking on their front door.

Howard shrugged that thought off for now. No point making his thoughts a lure for Grimm to bite on. He went on the check the rest of the village. See what he can Scrounge up of the areas near the part of the village that's in shambles. 'Hopefully, it would not be something sorrowful to see if this village were instead pillaged by bandits….'

'Hopefully….'

As soon as he thought that

*CLICK*

The sound of a gun with its safety off was heard, and the danger and fear of his brains being blown out made him aware of the umpteenth time of his fragile mortality

'OUM FACKING DAMIT!!!!!' Mentally, as to not give the one behind him itchy fingers

"Don't Move" A somewhat young yet gravelly voice said.

Two simple words that will determine the story of this godless, forsaken world...…

What a thrill eh?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ahab was currently in a predicament.

As Big Boss, he was the de facto leader, the face of unfortunate soldiers, and an attempt to give all soldiers and citizens that answer to no government, regardless of who, what, how they are, a Home.

But most of the time, it was managed by Miller, Ocelot, and the mentally crippled when he was still under their employ. He could call him retarded, but even he felt that was too good for something even less than a weasel. So, in reality, it makes him feel better when he was dehumanizing the rotten bastard.

Anyways, where was he?

Ah yes, Job management. Or as Ocelot and the DD's liked to call it "Let's procrastinate all the work to Kaz." Though now that he thought about it, it seemed to be more aimed at him. Anyhow, when Kaz left after learning the truth, as well as Ocelot going A.W.O.L., he was effectively "grounded" per se. He was mostly able to do missions every other week, or month depending on the difficulty and strain he puts his body through, and other factors that affect his wellbeing (as close as possible anyway for him). Until logistics got to the point where he was needed all around to stay on point to be self-sustaining.

But then when Kaz left, it immediately added more "homework". Then the final nail to his on-field operations when ocelot ghosted (as well as the last person he could effectively commune and enjoy company with. A.K.A. "hang out").

For the remainder of his life, he would be fighting the age-old enemy of all leaders... PAPERWORK… The need for it to be over-complicated and unnecessary as well as route lines for parasites to leech off was unacceptable. So, he slowly but surely methodically tested, experimented, and took at the reins all the way, just so that he can be on the field again. That was the idea... until Outer Heaven took priority. On the plus side, the method he found for paperwork to become self-reliant, self-sufficient, and follows to the letter. He called it a simple name due to its projections it followed (or prophecies if you will) that would happen no matter what, always fine-tuning and improving. Oracle, he called it. Until it got to the point where he no longer needed to be in a watchdog role until he had finally managed to have enough training and logistics personnel to replace the hole Kaz and Ocelot left.

To be honest, it's considered the "House-wife" Job of the Military

What does that have to do with this?

Well…. when one becomes mentally exhausted, yet extremely bored, he becomes antsy and desperate (especially in the conditions he usually used to be in). The only viable solution to this on a silo in the middle of the ocean, without any connection to civilization, any meaningful hobby's to be done freely (such as being a mechanic for the vehicles, re-practicing medicine, refining his CQC, etc.) before he got bored with or just couldn't be taken further without any volunteers or a chance to do so, would be civilizations accumulations. Ergo, books.

Honestly, the first time he went to look for books was embarrassing. He had to find out where he could find books to read, which was done discreetly. As the mother base and the surrounding bases changed so much after being on the field so long, he was effectively becoming a foreigner in his own 'land'. It's not that he couldn't ask for assistance from one of his fellow brothers and sisters.

It's embarrassing to do so. Until he walked around enough that he managed to figure out where the library was through eavesdropping and spars.

Later on, he would be revered as one of those Warrior monks from Asia, wherever they originated from. But that's a story for another time.

He started reading whatever he could when he got to the library, especially due to how big and extensive it is in all forms of recorded writing. He doesn't recall any capital being spent on some of these priceless books and materials. But he wasn't complaining, he is bored out of his mind at this point, and he would take whatever he can get to pass the time.

Especially when he Finally touched on The Art of War, and some old vintage priceless scrolls along with books that detailed martial arts, exploits, and even firsthand accounts of great warriors, generals, leaders, innovators, all pioneers, and great trailblazers. There was no way to input any of this information as it was mostly outdated in his day and age, but it never hurts to improve on his foundations to further build upon later down the line.

Funny enough, one of his soldiers, Watchful Owl, would send a petition to ask Him his permission to start a Global Knowledge keeping company to catalog, preserve, and accurately keep records on the knowledge acquired as well as its authenticity. It was named Alexandria, in honor of the great library that was burned down by the Romans and some idiots time and time again, and he quotes Owl:" [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] and would be a big help if they all [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] which would help all of humanity in the long run."

... Did he forget to mention that she has a harsh opinion on the rest of humanity? No? Oh well…...

Back to the situation at hand.

How in whatever plane of existence you despise that's considered your hell, is he still alive?

He should have been reduced to atoms, or molecules, or whatever is considered the smallest unit of measurement. Fact remains…. He. Should. Be. Dead…..

Oh well. He sure as hell did not understand the supernatural of the world, all he understood was.... Being a phantom….

"BAH!!!" He would get over it, he always has. So why bother understanding the intricacies of how the soul would work, where it would go, and how it will be? The only job he has been doing was sending them there faster! So why should he care about something that was quite literally beyond his jurisdiction?

"fsssssssss." He sucked in a breath of air. A breath of life. Becoming more aware of his beating heart. Stronger than he ever remembered.

Time to go to work

Well, more like see how his chances are faring on his strange circumstances, mostly the same, except he is completely alone, no backup, no support, and no contact.

He slowly sat up, tested his joints, his arms, doing a full body check along with Equipment and weapons check.

He checked his arms, moved them in circular motions, moved them in every which way, and finally stretched his arms. 'Arms seem to be in working order…Still missing an eye though…' He then rolled his head clockwise then counterclockwise finding no stiff muscles.

Next, he checked his body for any pain or irregularities. 'No outward scaring…. Injury, surgical, or otherwise…. Though there seems to be a feeling of something missing…. Further inspection will be required…'

'…Now for the reveal…' The reality that he has been avoiding.

'…'

'…Huh?'

His legs seemed to be in Perfect Condition. He couldn't even feel the aches and pains that would occur at his age. Of course, he did exercise and stretch enough so that he wouldn't be feeling them for a long time, but it was felt every now and then.

Enough Lollygagging. It's time to put them to the test and move on. He put his arms behind him on the tree that he was resting on, then slowly pushed himself up with his weight on his new legs, better to be cautious than to be making a fool of himself. Nobody Would know but him, but then only he would have to live with it for the rest of his life.

Finally, he stood on his two legs, arms out to balance himself. Then dropped them anyway.

'…That was…. Anti-climactic. They are better than what I can remember.'

He brushed his bottom any debris that clung on to it as well as being mindful of the holsters and pockets. It would seem all his gadgets, equipment, and ammunition would be in their usual place, along with a couple of extras that he was also familiar with. Wouldn't hurt to do a full inventory check in a semi-safe location to know exactly what he's working with now. It even seems whatever brought him here also knew of his habit of keeping spares for non-consumable gadgets, 4 of each, NVG's, INT-SCOPE (the updated one he had R&D make which in turn for being a single-eyed scope made it more effective and less space taken in any pack along with better features that were made better with the Quartz based data storage. With no proof that it was made in mind to his single eye), and finally 4 iDROID's (also has Quartz-based storage).

He was told that '4 of everything' habit of his is unnecessary and was considered pack-rat'ing

But it did save him more than he can count, so he stuck to it all his life due to having backups

All of it was the current version R&D updated to user-friendly, Life-Resistant (R&D coined the term, also stating that a staff version is in the works for on-base staff as the military one that they would be using would be too expensive and too invaluable to put into mass production with its hardware and software to sell to the public.) and completely customizable. Only to be used for higher-ranking staff, certain members of key staff members in all departments, and all on-field personnel staff. It was even used as a reward to those hardworking enough or who needed it to simplify and store all the data with ease, basically dealing without the need to go back and forth to a computer.

Now to see his loadout. For his hip primary, an UN-ARC-HB-4 that's been heavily modified painted in plain light forest green. The barrel is the ARC TYPE FS-BARREL, the magazine is 7.62 DUAL-MAG X20 with 6 magazines in total which would be 12 reloads, ARC TYPE A2-STOCK, ARC TYPE FS-MUZZLE, a BOSTER VM (2-4x) sight flip on for longer ranges and a DOT SIGHT ll as the regular optic for closer ranges. A LASER-A-MODULE TA was slightly modified to have a flashlight and to incorporate the red and green laser, the under-barrel was modified with a bipod and an M-FOREGRIP. Yes, all the weapons R&D made are based on its actual counterpart, some for fun, some for a purpose, some to have an improved version of it or simplified, but all modifiable and structurally based on blueprints that only Diamond Dogs, and later on, Outer Heaven only had. He pulled back the hammer to cock it.

A Distinct Advantage is that the weapons they have can, will, and have been always reliable.

Onto his back primary, it was something he thought he would never get the chance to use, 'The Last Whisper'. There's a whole story behind this sleek and sexy sniper rifle, of course only the important one, and not the creepy and extremely disgusting one those fans of hers were involved in. It took a while, (and a couple of bar fights he may or may not have been a part of) but she was finally considered a Diamond Dog, long before she left. Anyway, the oat-take-ew's (all of her fans were in there), Texans (considered separate from the Americans due to how many there were), and gun enthusiasts (mostly Americans, British, Mexican, Australian, Russian, Africans, and Japanese) in all departments finished developing as far as they could go in R&D. As most of it was just to polish up or put the finishing touches on some of the experimental projects as well as the next generation of military vehicles, equipment, weapons, clothes, and tactics.

Anywhere they can input into military use for a greater effect on an unrestricted military budget not burdened by congress or some random bureaucratic schmuck.

Of course, the projected timeline of the amount of time would be 8 years to finish all of it with only 5% of the remaining budget of their liquid funds (aka, American dollars). But the results surprised and made him proud, 3 years done with 50% of the budget remaining. Shows you how disgustingly inefficient the world's bureaucracies are. The staff has come far and wide in their skill of craftsmanship and efficiency. Sadly, they ran into a problem.

Simply put: They ran out of ideas on development to work on.

So, they lollygagged for a couple of days. Except for the occasional combat mission, an outing into the wild on a vacation day, and food festival/barbeque (the number of ethnicities his brothers and sisters in arms was astounding. He had to figure out some way to appease their palate to accommodate the budget and the chef's skill on dishes from their ethnicities. He even had to join since it wouldn't do for the commander to sit on his ass while twiddling his thumbs) till they eventually got bored with the same routine. At this point, the budget was recovered to 70% of its original amount and was 5 years since the establishment of Outer Heaven. The TX-55 was built, and Ahab was working full-time in Outer Heaven, and Ishmael returned begrudgingly to U.S. Military command.

Then the aforementioned groups came together (good lord).

They came together to petition a request which was basically to be allowed full rein of the budget on whatever they wish to develop as long as it produced results and did not put them in the red.

He agreed of course. After all, if they got nothing better to do, and all projects and assignments were finished to the letter, they deserved to have creative freedom on what they wanted to make a reality. No?

This was a while after he had learned from Ishmael that the west (NATO) was in suspicion of Outer Heaven having a Metal Gear due to him using it to deal with a group of raiders that was stupid enough to attempt to attack outer Heaven with a battalion of tanks.

Thus, to stay in control of the narrative, he and Ishmael planned the ruse of Outer Heaven's being clean as a whistle… Or its "destruction "should the need arise due to their familiarity with how fearful the west was of them along with the actions they would take.

There wouldn't be a second Ground Zeros Incident.

3 years later, 1 year before Outer Heaven fell, the boffins burned through 60% of the remaining budget while working their asses off in combat deployment testing and recording prototypes while heading back to base with the results burning a hole through their pocket.

Yes. He did eventually regret agreeing to the Requisition Order. But what's done is done.

They started with the specs for the Brennan LRS-46 (*10), the sinful butterfly variant, the De Lisle carbine, and the Russian VSK-94. Then worked on from there to create a marksman rifle for the greatest stopping power with the least number of parts to decrease the chance for it to be jammed, still customizable, yet cannot be easily dismantlable, but can still be repaired easily by its operator. Along with an integrated scope as to be less likely to be damaged while still being reliable enough to make any shot. The suppressor was the barrel, thus making it silent for as long as the barrel lasts. They wanted the barrel to last a very long time and still be in top condition. The rifle would last in any/all environments along with compacted mode for ease of carrying due to the extended barrel. 7 shots would be considered the norm of the amount its magazine could carry that would also be integrated based on the specialized ammo it can carry that will also allow to vary sniper rounds as to not be constricted to one type to still be reliable and effective for any situation, or at least simple sniper rounds that can easily be gained through civilian channels. The loading would be based on the Winchester lever-action that can be accessed manually if necessary. And finally, the impossible dream. To make the suppressor as silent as a fish, or at least pretty damn close. Something considered impossible as suppressors are just that, suppressors. They cannot eliminate the sound of a gunshot.

It would still be just under 140 decibels, still easily audible to pretty much anything with good hearing, they hated that as it was just like any other gun. Yet they did take the challenge with a certain gusto... that came with an unrestricted military budget.

They already got everything done. The barrel, the customizable areas of the rifle to the user's preference, the lever-action reload (the Texans were responsible for that, though had to compromise due to the rest arguing that a detachable magazine still has SOME merit), the compact mode, the specifics of the material, the weight, the ammo, even the balancing of its specs while giving no drawbacks besides its abnormal kick and its slow fire rate.

Even a non-lethal mode should he need to fire tranquilizers.

All in all, it's an unbalanced weapon of a dream of Gun Nut. But an extremely useful weapon if used and treated properly. It came with a bandolier as its strap with its 28 specialized rounds on another separate bandolier, and on his hip magazines were 21 regular sniper rounds and 21 tranq rounds. He put in 16 regs, 8 tranqs, and 4 specialized in the bandolier strap, but did not load it in. It would be better to leave it empty for now only to load in the specific rounds to the situation.

Now onto the Secondary weapons.

A Windurger No.2 Silent Pistol Mark.5, or WU S.PISTOL 5. Same as before with the rest, fully customized. As the built-in suppressor seems to be updated, but the ammo is a different story.

*click* He took the mag out and check the ammo. Glass-piercing tranquilizer rounds. Now for sure, he will be able to take out any armored units. There hasn't been a single armor these rounds haven't pierced yet. He took a look at the extended magazine, marked for armor piercing, as he saw 4 extended mags for regular tranqs and 3 extended for piercing. He doubted he would be facing heavy opposition any time soon. He switched it out for a reg and pulled the slider back. Satisfied with his non-lethal, he checked his other sidearm.

An Arms Material Delta-114 Combat Pistol referred to as AM D114LB-45, also decked out with an integrated extended barrel and compensator. This pistol is extremely useful and has assisted him more time than he can count. It never jammed on him. Never. Comes with 9 regular extended mags with 10 rounds a clip.

Its .45 caliber makes it a bit more costly as well as being even less likely to find it should he need to replenish his munitions on the field. It is loud, but that's IF he gets caught.

His support would be 4 empty magazines, 4 yellow flare grenades, 4 green flare grenades, 12 hand grenades, 12 smoke grenades, 12 stun grenades, 12 sleep grenades, 12 incendiary's, 12 c-4, 12 claymores 2 boxes of phantom cigar's (8 cigars each), a box of pentazemin (24), a box of noctocyanin(24), a box of accelramin (24), a box of digoxin injectors (12), 2 stealth camos using 'his' notes before making it possible to recharge while 'cloaked' as well as completely invisible to almost all cameras, and 8 cardboard boxes, 2 for each environment he would most likely find himself in, 2 lock pick sets, 1 for easy reach and the other hidden…. Somewhere…

And a... box with 4 vial injectors filled with…. something. It came with a piece of paper with something written on it, but he will see to it at a later time.

How he is not over-cumbered and filled to the brim with all these items along with how it is not obvious that he is filled with explosives? Simple. All the explosive-based ordinances are extremely compacted with a simple system of a hard button (to not be armed easily) to arm and unarm along with a latch to protect it and guarantee it won't or will blow up. Still or even more effective than the best brands.

Finally, he took a good look at the outfit he was wearing. It was the Tiger Stripe combat fatigues, though it seems to be a more updated look and is a far cry from when he took his first step in the Graveyard of Empires as 'Big Boss'. Pads for his arms, shoulders, knees, and elbows, more protective yet thinner body Kevlar, his old light brown tinted scarf that was a little longer than usual that covers his body well along with any weapons from visible sight, and his harness along with his pack of supplies, utilities, ammo pouches, tactical vest, even a backpack that all gave a more futuristic vibe to him due to how he has never seen these before with how well made and utilitarian. Hell, they gave him a lot more space left over to sate his packrat habits with the amount of gear he stows, due to R&D's amazing innovation and 'waste not want not' mentality to make the best of what they need with the least amount…. After testing of course.

After going through everything, he loaded everything back on his person in their place and his preferred position. He got up and started on his way. The number of items he had on him just felt like he was holding nothing at all. Guess he was used to it by now.

He has no idea where he is, how he's here or the purpose why he's here. But none of that matters. He is alive, he should be dead, but he's not... Again.

As long as the world can live with that...… He is free.

He started patting his clothing before he begun

'Might take a while to reach any civilization… If it exists. Now like it said in one of the books I read, "every journey begins with a single step". But I think I prefer to start it with something else… If my mysterious abductor truly kited me out… they would've had my hidden pouch with my cigars in it.... So that Kaz- Ah. Here it is. Right underneath the right collarbone, behind the fatigues.'

He folded out the airtight opening and counted 12 cigars and a box of applewood matches.

'Here we go.' Takes one out and begins to sniff it 'These are the good ones. *Ssssssss-nif* The big thick one made to last for hours'

He grabbed the applewood matchbox and pulled one out. He strokes the match twice before it lit up on the third. He brought it to his cigar and took a long drag pulling in more air to stroke the embers, doing so with the practiced ease of a master.

"fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu~"

'It's good to be back…'

As he stepped forward at the beginning of his journey, the 'punished' venomous snake will seek to live in this new environment as all living beings do.

Adapt and live. Or stagnate and die…