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The Martyrs: the Generation that Burns

“Perhaps we are indeed the main characters of the story, but who is to say we are not the Galactic Republic in the prequel --- No matter how many victories we seize or how many foes we slay, our fate has been sealed from the very beginning.” --- KR043. When a portal to another world was created in the deserts of Nevada, the United States, humanity was faced with a choice. Neglect it, and pray nothing happens. Or confront it, and in doing so, pay a dear cost. Earth chose the latter, and thus, came the heroic tales of the Phasewalker Corps. And thus, came the numberless skirmishes, battles, and wars that would ravage across Humanity's enemies. And thus, came the warcry that would soon echo through countless worlds. "For Earth! For Humanity! For...Victory!" This is the story of the generation that burns.

KR043 · 科幻言情
分數不夠
89 Chs

Chapter 56: What She Fought For

Meanwhile, Ryan Carlson was handling matters of his own.

Ryan might be regularly stationed at World Alpha, but he had an office at the base beside the Portal as well. Sometimes, it served as somewhere for him to work privately. Other times, it was a place for meetings.

This was one of the latter scenarios.

"George."

"Sir."

Ryan found himself staring down at one of his Shieldbearer lieutenants. George. Unlike most Shieldbearers that were in the 1st Phasewalker Regiment, George was stationed back home, on Earth. He was tasked with making sure nothing would bring down the Phasewalker Corps on the home front.

Ryan went straight to the point.

"Tell me about the Washingtons."

"John and Cassie Washington, parents of Generation II Phasewalker, Corporal Tracy Washington. After Corporal Washington was killed in action in World Alpha, her parents attempted to expose Section X and the Phasewalker program to the world. I had them terminated. Their deaths were labeled as accidents."

Ryan frowned. "Terminated?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"Sir?" George was obviously confused. "What do you mean? They were threats. Threats must be terminated."

"Indeed, but there are more ways to terminate threats than assassinations." Ryan added, his face stoic. "The Washingtons did pose a threat, but what kept you from having them imprisoned instead of killed?"

"It is too risky!" The low-ranked Shieldbearer complained. "We can't take the chances!"

"That's...insufficient justification."

"I don't understand, Commander Carlson." George argued, confused by the reasoning behind this inquiry. "It has been standard for we Shieldbearers to diffuse dangerous situations with less ethical methods. With all due respect, you yourself have killed Phasewalkers who turned away from their duty. What's the difference."

"The difference, George, is that when I shot the deserter at Fort Sentinel, I didn't have a choice." Ryan explained slowly as he stared into George's eyes. "If I punished him with any other, less drastic ways, then the other Phasewalkers might have backed out as well. But with the Washingtons, you had more than enough resources to take them in alive. What can a pair of aging parents do against all the Section X assets under your command?"

George frowned. It was obvious he didn't quite agree with what Ryan said, but his discipline forced him to lower his head and obey. Ryan sighed and stood up.

"George, you are one of the best Shieldbearers there are. You are a highly capable asset, which is why I am going to explain this to you."

"We Shieldbearers have a lot of power. We have our influence and agents in every section of the Phasewalker Corps. In World Alpha, we have access to the authority of the Commissars. Back home, we have the backing of Section X. This makes us effective, but it also makes us dangerous."

"Power corrupts, and absolute power absolutely corrupts. What makes us efficient may also deviate us away from our true goal."

Ryan said slowly as he stepped around the office.

"I don't give a damn about the Washingtons. I don't know if you know this, but I have what's called Schizoid Personality Disorder. I don't care about most people. That's part of the reason why I was chosen for this job." He glanced at George.

"My concern, George, is that you didn't order their deaths because it was necessary. You ordered their deaths because it felt good. It made you feel satisfied, feel powerful, to be able to command the deaths of two people with a few words. That is what bothers me, George, because anyone who does that, anyone who uses the greater cause to justify their own selfish desires, is someone we Shieldbearers are designed to root out."

When he was done, George could feel chills down his spines.

"Sir," He promised, looking up at Ryan. "that was not my intention at all!"

"In that case, you will have no problem with the appointment I am going to make." Ryan nodded. "George, you are hereby appointed as the Battalion Commissar of the 4th Motorized Battalion. You will be replacing Commissar Amnell, who will be taking over your current position back home."

George lowered his head. "As long as it is in the best interest of our cause, I will obey."

"Very well."

As George left the office, Ryan sighed.

Under his directory and with the full support of President Anderson, the Shieldbearers Division was expanding at an impressive rate, but just like what he told George, this power came with a great cost. By ensuring that the Shieldbearers had the power to put down any threat, Ryan also inevitably made sure that if the Shieldbearers became the threat, no one could put them down.

People like George weren't alone. Perhaps they looked like they were fighting for the cause. Perhaps they even believed it themselves. But every time they bend the rules, every time they tell themselves evils were necessary, they march further and further away from who they were when they joined the program.

For every rule they break, every ethic they lose, they descend further and further into darkness until, eventually, the same duty that prompted them to take action may turn them against the very cause they joined the Division to protect.

It was truly a dangerous path to tread down.

Interestingly, deep down, Ryan wasn't sure he himself was any different.

---

A helicopter took Caity to a Section X facility close to her home city.

"Colonel, just give us a call when you're ready to go back." The pilot told Caity before she left.

Honestly, as she walked away from the military helipad, Caity had no idea what she was doing back here. Her parents have made it clear they didn't want her as their daughter anymore, and she was perfectly content with it, but not because she necessarily hated her parents.

In fact, Caity suspected if she went back to her parents, they would gladly welcome her back with open arms. Months of time should have more than washed away whatever anger they had of having their opinions being ignored by her.

The real issue was that Caity didn't want her parents to know what she had become. In World Alpha, in the name of the greater good, she has forced herself to become a monster, capable of committing numerous atrocities at a moment's command. She couldn't allow herself to be soft or reluctant, because that meant weakness, and weakness for her, the Commander of the Corps, could mean countless disasters upon those who followed her every order.

What would her parents say if they knew what she did? If they saw what their baby girl has become?

In a sense, Caity would have preferred if their parents just forgot she ever existed so they could move on with their lives. That would be the best for both them and her.

Caity drove out of the base in a Section X black SUV. In a sense, she was just wandering around with neither a map nor a GPS. Even so, she was still able to subconsciously recognize the roads and highways, and before she knew it, she was back in her hometown.

The noise and human activity going all around her almost felt unnatural. She has been so used to the fast-paced, rigid life of Fortress Alpha where all was about survival that transitioning back to a world of such life and prosperity almost felt repulsive.

Caity has been gone for a while, yet the streets were still familiar. She recognized the plaza which held the dentistry that she visited every year up until she joined Project Phasewalker. She saw the hair cuttery in another plaza to the right that she grew up going to.

The woman touched her short blonde hair. It was weird not having it covered by a helmet or a hat.

The traffic light turned red, and Caity pressed the brakes. At the pedestrian crossing in front of her, a group of teenagers no older than Caity made their way across the road, their eyes trained on the phones in their hands. This image left Caity with a sense of nostalgia. Just a few months ago, she was one of these teenagers. She was lost, with her life practically meaningless. Her time was wasted on things like Netflix or Instagram that were ultimately pointless to her.

Months later, she returned to this world, with the blood of countless on her hand.

The group of teenagers finished crossing, and the light turned green. Caity drove forward for another crossing before suddenly turning right into a Starbucks. She parked her car before walking into the store.

"Good afternoon, Miss. What can I get for you?"

"Hmm." Caity glanced at the menu behind the cashier. "What's new?"

"The Chocolate Chip Frappuccino."

Caity nodded and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. "I'll get that. Keep the change."

"Uh...Miss? Are you sure?"

Caity shrugged as she walked to the side. After the Frappuccino was handed to her, she walked to the tables and sat down at one of them.

For hours, she sat there and watched as countless customers came and went. Some were teenagers, looking for some fun after school was over. There were a handful of parents taking their children here for some snacks before bringing them to some sort of tutoring service. The look on those middle-schoolers as they quickly finished their donuts was intriguing.

A mother, with two girls behind her, walked into the Starbucks. As the mother walked to the counter, the two girls sat down around a table in front of Caity. One of the girls, looking like she wasn't even out of elementary school yet, was facing Caity.

Suddenly, she gave Caity an adorable, innocent smile.

For some reason, Caity couldn't help but turn away.

Time continued, and customers kept on rotating. Caity observed every single one of them carefully. Honestly, even she herself didn't know what she was looking for. She just sat there and watched the customers.

Some of them were energetic. High schoolers talking to each other at the top of their lungs, not caring for anyone else in the room. They were talking about everything from Taylor Swift's new song to the new Game of Thrones episode to how Disney was ruining Star Wars.

Some of them were exhausted. Workers who finished a day of work and decided to spend a part of their paycheck to indulge in their appetite into Starbucks. Was it the most financially responsible? Who cares?

Some of them were silent. Men in suits and ties walked into the restaurant, grabbed the drinks, and left as quickly as they came. Although the day was getting late, they still had hours of work ahead of them. Of course, they could just use the coffee machines in the offices, but coffees made by coffee machines weren't as tasty as those from Starbucks, and the walk here served as a brief moment of peace and rest.

The lives of these people weren't perfect. In fact, many of their lives could only be described rough.

The high-schoolers looked like they were having fun, and they were, but that fun would come to an end really soon. They wouldn't have a few years left until things like standardized testing or college applications plague them, and after that, it was either the terror that was universities or the good old workforce.

After their drinks here, the workers would either go back to tough labor or go home, where they would tend to their families before going to bed and getting ready for another day of labor. Even as they went to bed, their minds couldn't help but drift to the many problems threatening to tear their families apart. The tuition of their children. The medical bills of their parents. And the financial situation of the contractors they worked for wasn't too well either...which meant a wave of layoffs could be in place.

The businessmen were all fancy in their suits and ties, but even the effect of the caffeine couldn't hide the drowsiness behind their gaze. They were giving it everything they've got, spending hours and hours every day sitting in front of a computer. And for what? So their families could live in nice houses. So their children could get a private education. So when their aging parents fell sick or when their wife and children got into an accident, they wouldn't need to worry about paying the medical bills.

In a sense, everyone was suffering. Yet in a sense, suffering wasn't necessarily bad, for if someone was suffering, that meant that person was alive, and Caity knew all too well the scarcity of life.

Did the Rebirth survivors have to worry about paying the bills or setting up a retirement plan? No, for they were too busy being ripped limb by limb by Mutated Ants. Were they thinking about the future? No, for they lived in a world where the future was no more than a joke, and every breath they drew might be their last.

If a Rebirth survivor was given a chance to live on Earth, there was little that survivor wouldn't do.

Yes. There were many people in the United States that were suffering from issues like poverty. Caity couldn't help them. But what she could do was make sure that poverty was their biggest problem. That the random murderers on the nightly news were the biggest physical danger to society. That when people talked about wars and deaths, they were mostly talking about Game of Thrones.

It was the least she could do.

It was the most she could do.

The woman stood up, dropped the empty plastic cup in the trash can, and left the Starbucks.

She had a fortress to command.