Not Your Typical Isekai Entrance

Pain and fear were two commodities that the man dealt with like a Wall Street shark would trade in stocks and bonds. He was used to dealing them out, and even taking it but never to the point that those two things turned on him. His two dealings smothered his senses like a can of tear gas. Ironically, tear gas was something he had grown used to. All around him, his comrades, their mottled green uniforms stained crimson from the dozens of open bullet wounds weeping with blood. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way! This was just supposed to be a routine scouting mission. Stake out a few hundred meters from the area of interest, in this case, being a half dozen seemingly abandoned Russian city blocks. Then just keep watch for a little while, inform the brass about what you see and move on.

You certainly expected things to go completely wrong, it's just what you do. What you don't expect is to be literally surrounded on all sides. Especially not by guys who were wearing a uniform that signified they were supposed to be your allies. Why? Why were they wearing those uniforms of all things? Slumped underneath a window, the haze of terror, physical exhaustion, mental taxation and sheer unbridled anger were clouding the man's ability to think , which for someone like him, was an especially dangerous thing to do.

"Cliff", a nameless grunt shouted, "They just took out two more guys and are swarming their way up to our floor. Orders, sir?"

Ugh, even though he had been called that for years now, that nickname still instinctually irked him. Thoughts of trying to lay down their arms to surrender and possibly buy themselves a small measure of leniency crossed the man's mind. Sliding a mirror from his breast pocket and carefully angling it to see outside, he could see a few bodies, ally and supposed ally alike from the first attempt at friendly communication. Now they were callously kicked out of the way to make a clear path for the incoming troops. Yeah, that immediately dashed away any thoughts of negotiations. And considering that the building they decided to bunker in was surrounded on every side, escape was looking equally impossible.

Swallowing his emotion, "Obstruct all stairways and paths up. Barricade any potential entrances and set up claymores within those parameters. Frisk any bodies for whatever you can use. When you're done, retreat to the nearest staircase, and do not move until you can no longer hold your position."

The grunt saluted and ran back to complete his task. A pained laugh sounded a few feet away, "You should really work on your poker face. Despair is not your color."

Casting a sardonic look, "Can it, Sarnosky. I'm not in the mood for your sass right now."

The now identified Sarnosky lifted his hand which was wet with bright blood and shrugged, "Eh, I figure if there's a time for insubordination, now would be it."

Dragging his way over and ignoring the shooting pain in his thigh, the man propped himself next to his second in command. An explosion and a round of gunfire below signaled that their assailants were closing in. Lighting a cigarette, Sarnosky groaned, "Guess what they say about how you Gary's come with one hell of a price tag was an understatement."

The man responded indirectly, "Hey, can I bum one of those?"

His number two handed him the pack with a grin, "Sure about that? I hear these things kill."

Taking a deep inhale from the cancer stick, "Do you regret having someone like me lead you guys?"

The muffled gunfire below had died down, replaced by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and yelling. Shots rang out anew, but the pungent smell of powder was already reaching them.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't", Sarnosky admitted, "You little science experiments always cause one hell of a ruckus."

Another drag and another heavy exhalation, "Yeah, can't refute that."

"But, either way we were probably going to be sent on an assignment that would turn sideways or have a zero percent chance of surviving. Ain't that the usual MO?"

The shots had once again fallen silent and the rhythmic sound of approaching boots drew ever nearer. Spitting the cigarette out of his mouth, the man forced himself to stand with his back against the wall. Checking the magazine on his rifle, he had less than half his bullets left. Low ammunition, practically all his men dead, a gaping wound on his thigh, and an unknown number of enemies closing in. Yeah, it was definitely a Thursday. Standing next to him, Sarnosky readied his own rifle, "When we meet on the other side, let's go out and have that drink I was always saying I'd get you."

Flipping off the safety and training his sights on the door, "I'll hold you to that."

The reinforced door flew off its hinges. The man and his partner gave one last cry as the flash of the muzzles blinded their vision. Fire punched through every inch of the man's body. All the strength left his body as he collapsed on the floor. Breathing became near impossible as fluid was starting to fill his lungs. Despite his vision growing progressively darker, he could clearly see another man standing above him. His mind barely registered, 'General... Avalon?"

Humorless and sharp was the gaze that peered down.

"Sorry, Thatch", the general said in a voice that could make a robot sound human, "We need this war to be publicly won cleanly. And you're putting that at risk."

The general leveled his sidearm right between the bleeding man's eyes. Flash and then darkness. If the man were coherent, he'd probably equate the sensation to being in a sensory deprivation tank. There was nothing. Just an awareness of weightless floating. No sight, smell or hearing... at least that's what he thought.

'..eek me.'

'W-What", he blearily wondered.

Clearer than before there was heard a voice that came from nowhere, but was unmistakably present, 'Seek me.'

The words made no sense to him. Seek? Seek what? Where was he supposed to seek it? Who was that even talking to him? Wait, there was a light. Shining like a lighthouse in the infinite nothingness around him. He drifted towards the light or rather the light was dragging him towards it and all the while, 'Seek me.'

With the light drawing closer, coherence was ever so slightly returning to his previously muddled mind, "Who are you? And what do you mean 'seek me?'"

One final time the voice reiterated, 'When you reach the lowest point, seek me and I will guide you.'

The light was now forcefully wrapping around him. Confusion about everything was flooding his mind but he called out, "What does that mean?"

But the voice had stopped repeating itself and now, even though he was squeezing his eyes shut, the light was still practically blinding him. The feeling of weightlessness disappeared and the man came careening down into something. Returning to normal physics after being subjected to... whatever had just happened to him was disorienting. Vertigo, weakness, the still blinding light, some kind of sweet smelling smoke and what sounded like a kind of chanting was assaulting his every sense. Naturally, the only thing to do upon going from nothing to plenty of something was, in his case, to eject his stomach acids onto the floor. Heaving and desperately pawing around to find something to steady himself on, he barely caught the sound a voice, "That's unusual, an extra one has arrived."

"Someone alert the Pontifex right now!"

A hand roughly grabbed the man and instinct took over. Turning whoever's pinky upward, he cranked the wrist and was rewarded with that person loudly cursing some word he had never heard before, "Faex!"

More hands roughly grabbed at him and held him still. Whispers were heard, "He hurt the guard just by merely laying hands on him." Being too weak and too disoriented to do anything, taking a deep breath and observing his surroundings was all he could do. First thing to notice, he was surrounded by people wearing white hooded robes.

'Am I in some Satanic ritual right now?'

The people grabbing him were two men, who unlike the others, were wearing some sort of plate armor. Though, there was one similarity, a twelve pointed star symbol was clearly outlined on everyone's shoulders. The room they were in was a some sort of cathedral looking place. They stood in the center on an elevated dais, right above a large arched ceiling, which also had twelve sides to it, each side a different color.

"Wh-Where am I", he squeaked out.

Was that his voice just now? That couldn't be right, he was in his forties just a minute ago. He should not be sounding like what he just heard. Come to think of it, his limbs were far less achy but nowhere near as strong as he was used to.

"You are in the Great Temple of the Holy Pantheon", a regal voice cut through the room, "Located within the holy city of Acolynia, the central city of pilgrims and followers of the Duodecimiam Faith."

The speaker was a tall, fair skinned, middle aged man wearing flowing white robes with golden and blue trimmings. Obviously some kind of priest, judging by the garb. He had the air of someone with authority, but the posture of someone who was addressing a friend, "And what might your name be, young man."

"Young man? Please, I'm probably older than you."

It was confirmed, there was a voice coming from his mouth, but it wasn't one he had heard in a while. The pressure increased on his arms but the priest just laughed, "I highly doubt that. But still, what is your name?"

He searched his memory, but it was all so fuzzy. There was something there. He knew it was there and he felt like he should know what was there, but it evaded him. All but one thing, "Thatch. The name's Eddie Thatch."

The priest laid a hand on his chest, "Well, Mr. Thatch, my name is Ilphas, Bishop of the Holy Pantheon", the now identified Ilphas cast a gentle yet sharp look over the now identified Eddie, making his skin instinctively shiver, "And you, my good boy are a very unusual case."