Cerk-Ly War, Second Ters-Ly War (3)

  “Here I thought I was going to be your peacemaker tool. Are you good now?” Fox's voice sounded from the side, attracting them to look to the side with snaps of their necks. Miros, of course, shouted with the first chance he got to get out, “Boss!”

  “Fox- this hasn’t been fi- oh?” Colmillo kept holding Miros’s wrists as he tried to free himself the first few seconds. Afterwards, he gave up and let her hold him, but this made Miros realize more on the feeling he got from her hands. Sweet, soft, warm, and caring.

  “Eh?” But Colmillo’s stance changed when she took a look at Fox. She let go of her boy’s wrists, surprising Miros, who held his wrists and watched her walk to Fox. Miros almost felt annoyed that they were interrupted and her caring was over, but Colmillo wasn’t on about the sudden change in roles and her boy’s restlessness.

  “OooooOOOoooOooo? What is this?” Colmillo kept sounding her robotic, smooth voice. She walked to Fox and grabbed just below his left elbow, lifting it to look at it from below. She hushed, marveled, “Almost hearing crunching and cracking of… ‘improvement’.”

  “Almost.” Fox lowered his arm but let her look at it as his wrist faced skywards. He let her run her gauntlet’s fingertips on his skin as he spoke, with Miros walking to them, curious. “It is a completely new type of ‘improvement’. My body is compatible with ultra Mintip, and so are my new cyber defenses.”

  “Mnmn, I see…” Her eyes didn’t move, but her mask showcased the pondering under her robotic-emotionless mask. Seeing this fascination, Fox said, “I can get you one of this, of a much lower material grade, but you will have to get one ultra fox for it.”

  “Um, preposterous. I am granted processed Mintip, but Fox ultra? Great service!” Colmillo’s voice sounded, eliciting a sarcastic tone in one’s head, as it was as robotic as before. Fox smirked politely, looking down at the masked beauty before shrugging a bit.

  “So, it’s done? What about the combat additions?” Miros asked, super focused on the work he helped create. Fox looked at the boy, tousled the sapphire blue with his right hand, surprising the quickly improving boy, and spoke. “You’ll see in a few days.”

  “Woah, you’re gonna train with them? And I can’t see!?” Miros complained, almost like a little kid. Colmillo looked back at the cutie and tilted her head, getting lost in his sight. Fox could almost hear her eyes curving and her face melting.

  “You’ll be busy taking care of the unspoiled girlfriend you haven’t been taken care of for the last few weeks. You think nobody knows she seems to be getting freer? So many candidates appearing now and then… there are many girls… but boy, there are good men participating.” Fox said, slowly crossing his arms as he acted out a bit, riling Miros up.

  As expected, Miros lowered his face, his countenance becoming darker with each few words Fox spoke. Clenching his hands into fists, Miros struggled, waiting for Fox to finish before barking. “No, that won’t do! Sorry, boss. I am busy… My woman needs me.”

  “!” Colmillo was a bit surprised to feel her waist grabbed. She made no sound, but her motions were far too adorable to miss, let alone misunderstand what they meant. She rested her head on her boy’s shoulder, at ease. Fox lifted his left eyebrow before watching Miros bring his tech beauty to his tech-mobile, going out for a quick tech-adventure.

  Fox shook his head, but he felt glad they at least resolved their issues. These last few days were going to be their last together until the wars were resolved.

  Colmillo’s talents weren’t for nothing, they were just not momentarily prioritized before. Now that the south was surrounded by disorder, Miros was leaving, and Colmillo could be finally doing something with herself in Lymoca.

  That was something everyone in their circle knew about, but not something they wanted to change. Furthermore, during this war, while Fox had some high-profile targets, he would bring this little brat to the secret world’s high end so that he can protect himself like a 1st Grade would.

  After seeing the couple off, Fox went to his old suite. It had been over a week since he moved to his new mansion, which Teon, Mena, Mona, the team, and even the President have visited. Only Butler and Roam hadn’t. Fox lived in the mansions with his women, who have been busy decorating and planning their ‘extra’ personal rooms and sections.

  In his old suite, Fox reunited with Teon, who was in the living room with her man, and Mena, who picked a quiet Red Blood dark brown man, which has worked under Fox a few times since becoming Raging Blood.

  Fox didn’t stay for long, only teasing his ‘younger sister’ a bit while catching up with Mena. Before long, Fox headed directly to the mansion in the capital city, on for a ‘peaceful’ night…

  … During these days, the war in Argopolas had turned for Cerka’s worst. While Melenon was now suffering, with their enemy, Torka, pushing forth and battling until there is no end, until total victory. Argopolas became more and more high-morale from north to south; from east to west.

  Lymoca’s intervention was their pan con sopa (bread and soup), bringing the Valads to an all-time high spirit, wishing to see the day they are rid of all invasive forces. Cerka was another sister country, but now, it had become the irremediable, hateful traitorous country.

  It wasn’t a sight impossible to imagine, but to think it would happen… those were different matters. Let alone Torka, which should have learned what it meant to be ‘brazen’ like this. If Terka wasn’t a good-enough proof of why should they be disciplined, Lymoca would make more then.

  That’s at least what many started thinking the moment Lymoca’s results began appearing in the President’s morning press conferences. In Argopolas, the invasive forces were losing hundreds of people a day more, bringing a higher number never seen until nowadays.

  Meanwhile, Melenon also increased a bit, but for each side. This was rather tragic, considering Melenon’s lower population and territory size, but more so because Valads’ casualties were halved and didn’t increase after Lymoca intervened.

  Furthermore, few Lymocan soldiers were lost in comparison to Terka, who lost more ammunition, strategic points, and armored vehicles in number, be it land or the last few aircraft they held in Argopolas territory.

  It was one thing that Lymoca had more experience, but just their armored vehicles were enough to pose a gigantic threat to a force like Cerka. When their new weaponry, not just the Green pistol, were added to the war effort, it became an impossible task to counterattack.

  Everyone could see some footage of the Green pistol in action, of which most must-censor-this were taken down. But others with extreme blurriness and dust-like bodies of soldiers falling dead with portions of their bodies blasting were… secretly shared throughout the web.

  When it came to the Lykatón sniper, there were only images of a Cerk soldier walking or hiding in plain sight at day or night, or even security cameras. From one moment to another, with the sniper’s shot sounding after a provoked explosion, buildings were dusted or groups of tents destroyed, and ammunition or fuel turned into a source of panic.

  They were never seen, the new Lymocan snipers. Even when they were predicted, their shots and outcome were always the same. Surprising the spectators and demolishing Cerk forces.

  Then, there was the Esnly rifle. What first caught their attention was the situation of a unit whose Lykatón wasn’t destroyed in a massive encirclement the Cerks did for a single Lymocan squad, annihilating them in the process.

  When they picked a sniper from the group, which fell first in the combat, footage showed how the weapon melted from the inside, expelling steam, although it only exited the Lykatón’s structure from some small sections. The Esnly rifles were also self-destructible, but only when these were forcibly tried to be open and scanned or read.

  It was similar to the Lykatóns, only less exaggerated, and their self-destruction only included the most critical places separating it from all other firearms known to date.

  Its efficiency in combat was one thing, which surpassed even the use of most machine guns, manned by personnel on foot. A single bullet shot was very much capable of penetrating a damaged tank’s armor, let alone any armored vehicle, especially choppers.

  The sights were the absolute life-savers, bringing the Lymocan soldiers to have an average accuracy of killing the enemy in long distances. This was over the 500th meter mark, and even a few above it. The world wasn’t ready for wars last year; they aren’t ready for Lymoca’s technology now.

  The Static March explosives were never forgotten, even becoming Cerka’s dread soon after Lymoca showed what they smacked Terka’s illegally acquired tanks with back then.

  As for the Heart Shield, there were few images of these. Mostly from a team or squad that detected enemy activity within or outside buildings, firing at them from the other side. The result was enormous wall holes and the inexplicable plastering of blood and obscure-ish matter on the walls and ground or floor.

  Tanks? Lymoca got rid of those photos and what couple of videos there were from Cerks, keeping everything conspicuous, to a certain degree.

  Lymoca wasn’t like before, even with the known new armored vehicles and choppers. Not much was seen from the Lymocan aircraft after Terka was mostly without any air combatant force, but then, they returned to the skies, destroying almost a couple of hundred Cerk warplanes.

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  Furthermore, be it the helicopters, combat or support, frigates and whatever few cruisers staying at the rear, their machine guns would sometimes focus their firepower, destroying anything they targeted.

  It was almost miraculous, with each vessel or chopper aiming at different places, all critical to maim the enemy. But together? They melted everything. This was also the case for the Lymocan warplanes, bombers or fighters. What could be any more mind-draining than this?

  The technology, methods, means… they were all far above Cerka and Torka’s heads. They wouldn’t have enough time to counter it even in 50 years if given the chance, not even in a decade or half. In Melenon, the ‘last’ Ters didn’t feel it, but in Argopolas, the last Cerk soldiers are daily dying to it all.

  One thing to mention, which didn’t initially have anything to do with Lymoca, was that ANS’s shipments to Cerka and Torka had become more apparent, obvious, and plentiful.

  But all Lymoca did, and could do, was watch as those caravans of ‘merchant vessels’ passed by the Lyclan Sea and Ly Ocean, right into the Half Moon Ocean under every Ly's nose. Friction was meant to happen, at least in communications in an age like today.

  “And they are still sending stuff like that, aren’t they?” - “Agh. It’s pretty awkward because they keep doing that and saying they are doing nothing. But whenever they do say something, it is to defend Cerka and Torka because of the stability and all. Qué pendejadas.”

  The Chamber of Deputies transmitted its sessions every time. Sometimes, the deputies who weren’t in the opposition, a tiny minority, would comment on the situation. Their microphones would sometimes get bits, especially if they were beside someone speaking from their seat.

  Usually, nothing ever really came from it, if only a few seconds in ANS news to ‘show to the world’ how Lymoca only think of themselves as doing the good, while others are all bad.

  Regardless, everything took an impossible turn when a senator, funnily not enough under Garalf Stient’s wing, spoke in a press conference about Lymoca’s chatter, qualifying it as insulting.

  Lymoca’s Chamber of Deputies sessions were only a known, popular occurrence in Lymoca. They usually had tens of thousands views, mostly ‘few’ than ‘many’. It was only rare times when their livestreams would amass over a hundred thousand, and even past a couple of hundreds.

  And that was only when the session was about the President’s judicial branch reform, which had to still go through the smallest details, confirming and debating the opposition’s futile struggles. Delaying, as always, a renown tactic; and wasting time to attempt bothering the larger force to give up, happened, but never succeeded in Lymoca since Luis took place and his 3rd term.

  The senator in question was a man with balding hair and creamy brown skin, but with his age, it leaned towards the darker shades. After many other officials and congresspeople talked, he took the podium and looked directly ahead at some people before starting.

  “We shouldn’t let months become a year. It’s been a long time since there was peace in this world, which I guess is why the warmongering country, Lymoca, has decided to provoke a major war in the south.” He went on.

  “Seriously, people. It’s been months, just months since the Ters-Ly War— the First Ters-Ly War. Can’t you see a pattern? The lies and breaking of their vows? I am not even sure if they will remain stubborn and call themselves Humane Key ever again. That would be another lie.”

  “They say— and they have a lot to talk about when they mention our aid and health care shipments to the south. They are afraid they’ll actually suffer losses in wars that shouldn’t have existed. And as we speak, they are the ones massacring people from the south, not us.”

  The senator went at it for almost 11 minutes, starting good, continuing throughout with a stable rise in his momentum, and finished with an euphoric last moment with yelling and a raised, reverse fist. He gained quite the applause; and Lymoca’s response.

  The deputies were still leading the charge, however, with none other but Clara Metelti directing her words from Lymoca to ANS in a small press conference. There was a bigger one earlier, which she participated, but the ‘talks’ with ANS were reserved to this smaller one.

  “It has come to the Chamber of Deputies’ attention that a larger, glorious, and better experienced ‘group’ in the ‘art’ of war has been watching our recent activities lately. This is an honor,” she looked up at the camera, faking the lecture of her speech. “You have no idea how much I wanted to be seen in the world, by the world, from the person whom a one-time word directed in the name of an entire nation to a ‘lesser’ one.”

  “I have to first thank the person who did this— who made all of this possible,” Clara lifted her right arm in a gesture, aiming at the other deputies behind her. “Second, I want to not thank, but pinpoint the shipments of arsenal to an invading country, which are rapidly distributing them across their country and those they are invading without justification.”

  “I am gladdened to have these two things happening simultaneously. It really does show the capabilities of this bigger nation. Its responsibility and actions go according to one another, just as Lymoca does, when our innocent people were treated like slaves, and whose lives were not put into any ‘greater’ thought.”

  “Just like Argopolas and Melenon were invaded without previous conflict, warning, or at least an existent dispute. All for the sake of these… conquering ‘mobilizations’.” Clara lowered her head a bit, dropping a huge bomb to rocket ANS’s every congress seat.

  “Disregard for any life? Check. Just like the last Terkan government did. Support from foreign nations? Not even from those close to oneself? Check. Just like Terka suffered before their undeniable defeat. The rage of all Lys? … Check!” Clara nodded strongly, leaving the podium.

  It didn’t take a day for Lymoca to resonate with her words. Not only a Metelti still proving herself, but one with the thoughts of the people, just like her mother showed before. Clara Metelti belonged to one of the youngest talents across the globe, which the world would remember from now on. She belonged to Lymoca, she was a Ly!

  On the other hand, ANS didn’t quite respond, becoming quiet about any subject regarding the Lymocan Chamber of Deputies. It was a sudden void, turned into an undeniable Lymoca’s win, even if ANS conceded. They were smart, clever; but lost, too.

  … At night, Fox was in his large bed, larger than marital ‘grade’. He had his book on his lower belly and a phone held by his hands with an incoming video call. The bed had thick white blankets, such as fur-like and smooth, but they were under the thin, extremely large beige blankets Fox wrapped his lower body with.

  The video call commenced, with Nol’s face taking a third of the bottom right screen, with the rest showing a comatose Alea in a capsule. The capsule was a fine piece, with thin structure yet comfortable and durable. It was processed Mintip and thin Courusel glass.

  Alea was not so pale, but she was unresponsive. Her wrists and calves had medical tubes transfusing her Fox’s blood in small quantities throughout medium-long intervals. This was to let her body relearn how to do the ‘talking’, and Fox’s blood to keep her steady.

  Alea’s face was a combination of her healthy rosy white complexion, but with mostly sickly white. Her face was brightened a bit by a gentle, beautifying light, warm and medicinal, in fact. But it only made her appearance more tragic.

  Her organs were fine now, unlike when the ‘party party’ ended. They were already in failure, with her body calm and dying only because of her training and the exhausted breath on her. Fox’s blood revitalized all of it in weeks, but she wasn’t Fox.

  She was but flesh and bone without an alleged evolution, much less ultra processed Mintip, which apparently has great regeneration-enhancing properties. Of course, this was known only after Fox existed.

  “How is she today? Doesn’t seem like she will be complaining a lot today.” Fox looked at Alea’s face and analyzed. Nol was a little pale, always with her in the underground, rather new facilities of the HQ, keeping his body in check with training, harsher and more severe than ever.

  “Hah, you think, Fox. I heard 2 grunts today, and her fingertips twiddled after placing my hand near her wrists for 3 hours. She is getting better every day.” Nol said, high-spirited. Hearing these words somehow made Fox hurt a little… in his chest… very deeply.

  Pressing his lips and moving his upper body a bit, his shoulders showing some skin from his comfortable pajama shirt, Fox softly cleared his throat. “Doctor said a piece of my bone marrow fed into her mouth will help and not harm her. I prepared it earlier on while in surgery.”

  “Really? All good then?” Nol’s face brightened. He chose a bad spot, with light falling only at the back of his head. When he turned to his woman, who would receive potentially more efficient help, half his face was hidden, but brightened.

  Without Nol noticing, Fox looked at the young man’s face’s shadowed half, contemplative. After a bit, Fox blinked, feeling in a comfortable mood. “She’ll be getting it tomorrow, after it is filled with raw medicine herbs by Dr. Valle, so get good sleep to be lucid during the process. And take the stretcher, you won’t contaminate the glass, Wheel.”

  “Yea, yeah…” Nol nodded, looking at the camera the last few milliseconds before Fox hung up. Fox remained lying on the bed, his left hand holding his now black screen phone. After a bit, he cocked his head and dropped his phone before lifting the thin blankets up his upper ribs.

  Fox reached beside his left hip to take his glasses, putting them on before opening the book with ‘ultimatum biology before technology’ title that both Miros and Dr. Valle recommended him. A few seconds later, the reason for his sudden comfort sounded.

  Step, step— step, step. After footsteps came from outside as the coming of joy, the door to the large but not excessive main bedroom was opened, revealing two beauties with casual clothing.

  Nala and Esmeralda wore jeans. Few things could compare to the lovely image of the buttcheeks Fox eats like mad and became used to. Like their sleeping expressions when asleep.

  “Oh dear, what the hell are you wearing?” They stopped at the feet of the bed, with Esmeralda placing her backhand on her hip and tilting her head, wearing a frown. She spoke with light traces of schadenfreude mixed with playfulness.

  “Nothing. According to my status and life expectancy, I’m in the correc-” Fox slightly lowered his book and lifted his right index finger, but Esmeralda crawled onto the bed with a smile. “Oh, cut the bullshit. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. You look like such a dummy~.”

  Nala blinked but followed Esmeralda’s lead, lowering her back to let Fox watch that godly butt only her goddess self could flash and brag him with. She spoke after Esmeralda, blinking before doing so, “I agree with what you were saying. According to the doctor’s words, you are mostly recuperated. Didn’t you finally tire us out twice yesterday? I’m counting morning hours.”

  “Mn, but tonight… get in here and lay on me.” Fox let his book down on his belly, still open. Both magnificent women had stopped. They blinked before accommodating their bodies under the thin blanket and leaning on their man. They would get warmer under the thicker blankets later.

  Soon, the three read together, giving each other caresses. They even challenged the night’s softness by kissing each other between Fox’s book and his face, a lot and lovingly. But the night was as innocent as their hands will be compared to a few days later.

  …