Cerk-Ly War, Second Ters-Ly War (2)

  There was no surprise. Lymocan soldiers and vehicles descended from the cargo planes, flying after the fighters, cleaning the skies of any enemy, and bombing from the skies to decimate the enemy soldiers and points. Lymoca had officially intervened in this war, in a war, through all of history as a first.

  At sea, Cerka and Lymoca had just begun their encounter, sending hundreds of projectiles to each other. Grenade launchers and even missiles, for as small as Lymoca’s were and as top-notch for Cerka, were sent to one another, attempting to destroy each other.

  Countless bullets went off, and both sides weren’t simply destroying the other side or thoroughly advancing, but the Lymocan fighters were a major force against the Cerk navy.

  Flying and firing off nonstop, the Lymocan forces dealt blow after blow to Cerka, and this was even without their soldiers having landed on the ground. Argopolas had been communicated about everything and asked to help the Lymocan soldiers. Basically, to follow their command!

  As night was approaching by the time the Lymocan soldiers landed with the Valads, getting quickly briefed on the immediate situation, with the enemy busy mending their damage. The Lymocan navy had made the Cerk navy retreat, slowly but steadily, before fleeing full-on march.

  The air forces didn’t let go of this. They immediately looked for the enemy, which gave the Lymocan fighters enough time to prepare, turn around, and make pass after pass over their skies. This night, the Half Moon Ocean became filthy, with ships filling the bottom of the sea for kilometers after hundreds of years.

  Meanwhile, Lymoca advanced, pushing back into the sea to back the enemy off at Argopolas’s beaches, which had already taken several cities and settlements, mostly bombarded.

  They still received air support, especially from the navy, of which Lymocan frigates remained nearby and provided cover, bombardment, and suppressive fire for extensive advancements. Any combat helicopter before would’ve been enough, but Lymoca’s new tech helicopters were a wonder.

  Even during the first moments of the war, Lymoca had taken an enormous advantage. Cerka lacked an excellent air force, while Lymoca excelled in it by ‘default’. On the other hand, Lymoca still had their choppers after forcing the enemy to flee, while Cerka lost every single one of them.

  On this first day of the war, from the moment Lymoca entered the ‘cage’ and sealed the only exit, Cerka received a never-before-expected, crushing defeat. Thousands of their soldiers died, amounting to barely something out of the tens of thousands killed during these last weeks.

  Deep in the night, during the hours when the Avicas and Valads could at least get some sleep and rest thinking of a better day, the Lymocan soldiers brought all the Valads to the frontlines. Before, there was only defense, waiting for Cerks to come for them. Now, there was only rage and revenge. The war was meant to change from now on!

  Teams from hundreds to thousands took the fields, grass, tall or low, and sand. What little hills were available were taken into consideration, with the overall planning transmitted over the cutting edge Lymocan technology to communicate.

  It was a bit more than a better version, but it was all that was needed for the preparation of the oncoming onslaught. Things were changing everywhere one looked. Cerka should be fuming off their heads from brainstorming, while Melenon could be shitting their pants, awaiting.

  But no matter the situation, once it happened, and the Lymocan armored vehicles made their way out of their hideouts to lead the troops, tremendous, impactful differences became apparent.

  For starters, DLMs were no longer in the Lymocan soldiers’ hands, but rifles of at least equal value. Besides the QH - 8C pistol, there was a new addition, one that became ever so futuristic at the very least.

  The new rifle was from an inspiration of the DLM. It wasn’t just as powerful, far-reaching, and better, but simply an evolved version of the DLM. Not the same, but similar, with an obvious resemblance to Moonblue’s iconic main firearm.

  It was called the Esnly. The Esnly was a rifle with a rectangular main structure. It was long, with its heaviest part being slightly stubby. As the self-dominated first hightech rifle, it had a mobile artillery muzzle with a square shape.

  It fires on 1, 3, or automatic. It isn’t a continuous 3-bullet burst, but a shot with 3 bullets, which can only be extensively utilized with training. To a special agent, it might be a matter of habit, but to an ordinary person, even special forces… it was rather complicated.

  The bullets can either be shot vertically or horizontally. The Esnly has a slightly circular hole at its stock, where it can well be held from. Its color is all dark green, showcasing, as subtle as possible, where it comes from and what’s its purpose.

  Like the DLM, it had 2 modes, rifle and submachine, specifically.

  The rifle mode has a 3-sight, mobile, thin extra-durable glass with hightech. It is almost holographic, with its resolution as smooth and perfect as the greatest screen and electronic technology that the world can show. One could imagine its aid in a thing such as war.

  Its effective range is up to 880 meters. Bullets self-destruct after 910 meters. Its feed system is rather big, with 120 bullets per magazine, while its heavier magazine counts with 150 bullets.

  The submachine mode, loyal to the customs of the west, transforms into a submachine gun with a simple yet strength-requiring set of movements and authenticity. Only a couple, but crucial.

  It is slightly thicker at the rear sides, and it rapidly fires with a very strong burst that decays after 250 meters. Its effective range is 570 meters, but projectiles slow down the further it goes. It is strangely light to hold, and easier to maintain position.

  Besides the rifle, there was the sniper rifle, which had already gained a new name from the soldiers and marines. Lykatón’s other name is 1,000 - 8,000, simple and crude. Because of its properties, technological and tested, it was known as IB.

  It is very long and needs gadgets to be used a lot within an area. For example, a tall building or a not-too-long hill. It is the first hightech sniper rifle, so its camouflage is hightech as well. Each bullet is 7 inches long and nearly 1 inch thick.

  Surpassing the Esnly, it counts with an extremely hightech sight, although not with triple ‘dimensions’ like the Esnly. But IB’s sight is able to intelligently detect movement, through the sight, similar to but even better than medium NUAs.

  Moreover, it was designed so it would remain in the Lymocan soldiers’ hands only. Thus, it can only be used by their respective sniper/sniper team. Else, it will self-destruct from the inside.

  Its effective range is 4,000 meters, although it can reach up to 8,000 meters, albeit extremely difficult. From 1,000 to 2,000 meters, neither water nor non-processed Mintip can stop the Lykatón. Its feed system is only 8 bullets per box.

  The second Lymocan pistol was Heart Shield. It was named by the technicians and engineers who worked ever since the First Ters-Ly War to honor Luis. It is as of Luis Heartez’s change to Lymoca and immense weight on the country.

  It has a similar structure to the Esnly rifle, with a similar, circular hold of the Green pistol. It is heavy to hold because of its heavy, stubby, towering upper front. Yet, it is extremely heavier to hold because of its shooting power, let alone continuously fire it. It had far surpassed even what Green could regarding pistols.

  Its effective range was 55 meters, with a maximum of 80 meters. Its feed system has 5 bullets per cartridge case.

  Those are the new ‘toys’ the Lymocan soldiers showed to Argopolas’s Valad soldiers when meeting, briefing, and planning. And soon, they would show their might and terrifying efficiency at what they were made for to both, enemies and the first allies; killing.

  It commenced simple, yet the enemy was struck by surprise. Hills or hidden bushes, behind trees, buildings, and even small teams moving through the grass and sand. Lymoca was on the move before the enemy knew it, and when they went all out, the enemy knew it was too late.

  From machine guns on vehicles, mostly controlled from the inside, to tanks and thick walls destroyed by the new Lykatón sniper rifles, as well as insulted by the Esnly rifles. Cerka’s terror had just begun, with communications between Cerka and Torka already fractured.

  Lymoca’s first hit wasn’t Argopolas’s beaches but the enemy’s communication. They only noticed after Cerka wanted to order Torka to divert their forces from Melenon to Terka and when Torka wanted to ask Cerka what the hell was happening.

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  Everything was disordered, and for an entire night, despite the supple enemy resources, they were pushed back several dozens of hundreds of meters. The sand became muddy with countless enemy corpses, left behind while the fight continued, and the Lymocan side prepared.

  It was all a catastrophic result. One that indicated the worst had yet to come, and it was coming. The Lymocan soldiers checked the territory, moving around it like it was theirs. But of course, led by the special forces and weeks of preparation, how could Lymocan forces not be ready?

  Instead of attacking immediately after, carrying the morale and diminishing the enemy’s, the Lymocan forces led the Valad armies to hold a new line. There were various reasons the Valads couldn’t hold it long enough to pose Cerka a threat.

  The day went through, with the morning becoming the time when Moonblue asked themselves and each other an infinitude of questions and alarmingly yelled at each other.

  “What’s this? Melenon backed as soon as Lymocan air forces flew over the southern skies!” - “Hundreds and… so many thousands are expected to be reported dead during the following Cerk public report of the war.” - “Today will be the first day they lose so many people. They had some hundred casualties in a day before, but now… Their morale is crushed; I can tell that much.”

  “What’s Lymoca doing? Why are they not in Melenon as well?” - “Torka is known to have many excellent ground vehicles. Who knows where they got them from.” - “Bah. Like nobody knows. Terka was surely aided by ANS before, and they are aiding Torka and Cerka now.” - “That’s just what a spineless cheap shot like you would say out of envy!”

  “Regardless of who says what and if they’re right, and listen to me, it remains that Melenon is to fend Torka off on their own.” - “Lymoca isn’t helping them now, who knows if they’ll ever do it. But once they do… how different would it be for Lymoca to get rid of them?” - “Although Cerka and Torka are forces that cannot be slighted nowadays… isn’t Lymoca… ‘enough’?”

  Many wanted to talk about the new firearm technology the Lymocans were using, but little was known, so there was not much talk to be had. Images of the Lymocan land force’s soldiers, marching up and down, even descending, circulated the media, gaining a lot of admiration and newfound interest from their new weapons.

  But that wouldn’t last more than a few days. After all, for as beautiful as something or someone can be, if they only meant death, desolation, or torment, it wouldn’t remain in the hearts of the people. And just later that night, Lymoca advanced a few kilometers before forming another line.

  This time, Lymoca didn’t continue to push forward, having already ‘taken back’ most of the cities the enemy had occupied after bombarding them. The cities were mostly away from the sea, but some were a bit closer than the rest. It was time for some cleaning and slow, even progression.

  . . .

  A week and a half later. Lymoca, Proteros. In the Plastics Recycler Factory, PSD’s HQ.

  Sitting in the medical room, where surgery on a conscious person was necessary, thus painful. Fox opened his eyes after relaxing for about 15 minutes. He watched the doctor, with his aides gone, and the assistants, much like nurses, leaving after cleaning, tiredly breathe.

  “It feels different.” Fox commented. He moved his left arm while holding his shoulder with his right hand. He felt like small tube-like structures, so tiny they could match a newborn’s finger, cracked and sizzled inside his arm, within his muscles and now part of his bone structure.

  Fox looked at the doctor, who opened his eyes, tired and a bit lazy to move any further after lifting his chin. Dr. Valle said with half-open eyes, “Take a good look. Just use your instincts. It has been, ugh… hard on all of us. That kid even feared going out again to look for… eh, Colmillo.”

  “Mn, I have seen Elly taking quite some missions. She’s mad they’re not spending enough time, but she knows he isn’t looking for ‘her’ anymore. At least not actively like before, when they weren’t an item.” Fox nodded, standing up to place his cheek closer to his shoulder.

  The doctor moved his eyebrows and cocked his head a little, still tired. Fox sensed around for a bit before feeling some things. First, he prepared his left eye, as if to see something better. Usually, whether it helped or not, a person did this to see in the dark or when one’s sight is bad.

  For Fox, the moment he did this ‘appropriately’ according to his evolved body’s ‘new gadgets’, he felt the images in front of his left eye superimposed by informative screens. Fox stopped it, taking a breath before repeating with his right eye. The same happened with no obstruction.

  Smiling like an idiot, not noticing Dr. Valle’s gratifying smile of self-satisfaction, Fox tried it with both eyes before looking around. Everything was in order, working as intended. But even though that was the case, Fox was like a kid with a new, unique, best toy in the world.

  In other worlds, he felt comparable to when he knew Nala’s body was now his, and he could play and talk about life endlessly, anytime, anywhere. Same with Roroa, aka Esmeralda.

  What Fox was seeing was the detailed information of everything he put his eyes on, even after closing them and thinking of them. It was like a memory bank. As long as he could think of something, be it that he knew about or has only seen or heard about, it would be ‘there’.

  However, it was limited to what Fox knew, and the general information of the same. When Fox saw a chair, a small interface box appeared with unintelligible words. They disappeared almost right away, but the information in Fox’s brain, through his eyes, with his left arm’s biotech evolution, was clear, concise, up to date, and improvable.

  “I never thought how great this would work for other things. I wonder if many scientists yearn for a cheat like this.” Fox commented, feeling in a good mood. He was also considering more, new stuff he didn’t before, although he felt embarrassed, but just a bit. After all, Miros didn’t need any bion or ‘evolution’ to be the damnable genius he is.

  “Heh, right.” Dr. Valle scoffed in a good mood. It seemed like it wasn’t just a success, but that Fox also liked it, and a lot. “If they aren’t against 12 hours or more of conscious, not completely pain free surgery in their heads or one of their limbs.”

  “Mn,” Fox cocked his head, understanding but not giving a care. No gain without pain. He then turned to the doctor and checked another thing, one that made him smirk with evil intentions.

  While information was important, as hoogs faced each other, and not ‘just hoogs’, but those at the top of the world. Fox found it more and more challenging to detect or smell from them. After all, with how manageable Mintip can be, it can hide scent, and if well-hidden, becomes difficult to notice.

  Such was the situation when they didn’t know hundreds of special agents were coming to the presidential precinct… among other things.

  Right now, Fox saw through the old man’s clothes and body, with layers to interpret, but Fox didn’t need it. Just as he didn’t need it to know how many thin, small surgery tools the doctor had on him in his white coat alone.

  Instead, Fox was observing the doctor’s inner body structure. He could see through it all as if a light strong enough yet harmless illuminated the doctor from behind. The bones were black ink, while the veins were a demonic red. The organs were outlined, with the damage, by age or inflicted somehow, were brown-yellow colored, the same they were outlined with.

  However… Fox looked at the doctor’s center. Where his sternum was, not one of his chests. The thing was, the doctor’s heart wasn’t in his left chest, but at his sternum. Furthermore, it was 3 times bigger than usual, with Mintip pieces bumping along.

  The doctor noticed his gaze, doing nothing to stop him, falling pensive. After a while, Fox asked after gazing at the blood flow and pumping of the veins he could only hear, confirming them to be in synchronization with what he could now see. “Doctor, how long have you been without a functional heart?”

  “It tricks even kids like you. But now I’ve made you into the biggest peeper.” Dr. Valle shook his head, grimacing a smirk thereafter. Fox patiently waited before the doctor went on, “This a body that no heart can work with again. There’s nothing wrong with most of my body.”

  “At first, they said my blood flow had been compromised. But then I realized it was my body rejecting to have my heart process blood anymore. I tried a transplant… thrice. Only afterwards did I conclude my body was… ‘allergic’ to a heart. No heart, no more blood. It would have been a rare yet restful death, sigh… But I cannot allow myself to die when my missing daughter hasn’t returned. What if she looks for her family, and I’m not there? I can’t have that…”

  “…” Fox nodded a bit at the end. He then looked at the ceiling and connected with his WID. After trying a bit, he smirked while the doctor calmed down. Fox was told about this, but feeling his arm become a whole new, ultra concealed communications device that can act independently was mind-wrecking, even for bions and this day’s future technology.

  Then, Fox ‘issued’ some lists, programs for managing, and checked the internet’s endless information bank on business he has been pressing on waiting for this ‘surgery’. When he was finished, Fox looked at the doctor, gesturing to the doctor with his index finger before walking out.

  “I will see if I can do anything about your missing daughter, Dr. Valle. This is an evolution of its own, so I need you to keep living. I’d like to improve all this when my entire body can be biotech evolved, mm?” Fox sounded, walking a bit slow to hear the doctor’s response.

  “Oh. Haha! Alright, kid. You stay alive and get some ultra processed Mintip, and I’ll do you these favors. As long as- as long as she can be found and then brought to safety… Preut was too surprising for even Resilient, heh heh…”

  … Fox walked out of the HQ, nodding to every agent, new and Third to First Grade, including Captains, who were soon to enter the war. It wasn’t that no PSD special agents were aboard in the train of war and its brutality, but only a few select teams were.

  Representative captain Lian was already in Argopolas, moving towards Melenon… Fox didn’t know much more, although he could inquire with Lian as long as the old man was within a 1,000-kilometer distance. But that wasn’t necessary; Fox didn’t need to.

  The days were counted, and with the happenings in Argopolas’s beaches, with the well-holed, Lymoca-fearing Cerk men and women resisting as the last invading bastions, Melenon had its capital evacuated. Furthermore, half of the capital was in shambles, disputed in fierce battlefields between the Avicas and Cerks.

  It was due for Piya Sanctum District to get dirty, and very, very bloody.

  As soon as Fox walked out the doors, giving Mena’s new permanent until new notice supplant a nod, he took in the sight of something after hearing it all the way back inside. He grinned, looking at Miros and Elega ‘discuss’ their last days together’s terms.

  “But, I told you! She just needed a check-up, and I picked her up in my van… I returned very, very soon. You know that! You were waiting for me, you- you silly…” Miros said to his older lover’s face, his wrists held by her above their foreheads’ level.

  Colmillo wore her mask, appearing stoic yet magnificently beautiful and archaic. Suddenly, she tilted her head, sounding her robotic, smooth, feminine voice. “Was told right. You weren’t tasked to meet, but walked her. Believe. But pouty. Pamper me! Or we won’t like what I punish us with next.”

  “Ah…” Miros wore a complicated, slightly frowning expression before hearing the last bits from her mask. He released a relaxed smile. How could he not know she was practically cajoling him to spoil her and treat her with so much care she could melt?

  After all, while the beast was undefeatable, especially for him, the beast had a heart… Besides a heaven-forsaken body that he could forgo of his genius for days and even weeks without end…

  …