The Utopia Project: Dawn of the Phantoms

Chapter 5: Finis Mundi



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=== [Chapter 5: Finis Mundi] ===

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Eli wasn’t sure if he heard Omar’s stunned whisper right the first time. The boy was staring at it, eyes wide. Completely entranced by what he saw. When Eli realized what Omar had said, he still refused to believe it. Obviously, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Impossible. Straight up unthinkable.

But his eyes agreed with Omar, even if his brain refused to. He tried blinking, hoping that by clearing his eyes the picture would somehow morph into something else. But it did nothing. If anything the image of a dragon became clearer. And what was worse, there were more. Flying over the tree line, there were two, and then three, four, five, and another. Six dragons, mystical beasts from a land far – far away, were flying straight towards them.

The Regulars opened fire immediately. Bullets darted into the skies, hurtling themselves towards the scaly beasts. And yet, the small arms fire seemed pointless. Nothing hit. Or rather, the dragons seemed invincible to the bullets. The flying beasts advanced, uncaring of the regulars’ efforts to slow them.

The prisoners who were without their weapons inched closer to running, he could feel them instinctively flinch backwards. At once he was part of a frightened crowd of onlookers, less of an individual on his own rather a collective mass of the helpless whose only choice was to stand and watch. Or run. But they still feared the bullets of the regulars too much to break rank.

The choice was made clear when the first dragon opened its maw.

A magma filled hole brewed deep within the throat of the dragon. Eli felt a cold shiver wash up his spine when one of the prisoners screamed. The first prisoner took off, climbing out of the trench, breaking rank. He was swarmed by guards who tried to keep him in place, but it was too late. One-by-one, like a giant domino, the prisoners ran. They shoved their way out of the trench to the haven they believed the Nexus would be. The guards could not stop them all.

From the mouth of the dragon cascaded a burst of fire and flame that torched all within. Like a blast of napalm. Prisoners were set ablaze, their screams echoing through a sky filled with the wails of the Nexus’ alarms and the shouts of the terrified. All ignited within the burst of dragon’s breath, palm trees’ leafy ferns charred – creating thick black smoke that choked those down below. The dirt around them turned into brimstone, heat surrounded them.

Eli found himself lost in a quagmire of fleeing prisoners, desperate, terrified, and directionless. He found himself being shoved around as he tried to keep with the crowd. Elbows and hands went flying, he saw people tripping over only to be trampled by those behind them. Eli could feel his own feet slipping, fighting to stay on his feet. But he was being tossed around like a boat caught in the middle of a storm. Waves of prisoners in front of him and behind him, pushed and shoved and kicked and…

He fell.

Forward onto the ground, sinking. The screams of the burning behind him, the panicked flight of the crowd around him, and gunfire. He turned onto his back, only to have the boot of a frightened prisoner collide with his nose.

The hit was enough to stun him, the pain hardly registered and was more like a dull fog that forced his eyes shut, reminding Eli of his basic survival instincts. He pulled his arms up protecting his head, and he curled into a ball, rolling over with his face to the red dirt. He felt several boots trample over him, kicking him with enough energy to leave what he felt were bruises all over his back.

Like a thunderbolt striking the ground, the earth shook when a artillery shell collided with the surface. Eli looked up when the crowds eased, and he saw that the dragons had pulled back, with some even being shot down over the Nexus by the base defenses which finally were put online by the rushing guards. The dragons which were shot down crashed into the hillside in a massive plume of dislodged dirt that covered the fleeing prisoners. But there was of course the artillery barrage.

Shells rained from the skies, keeping the prisoners – and even regulars huddled in their trenches. Eli again kept his head low and tucked in out of fear of being hit either by the shell or its shrapnel. He saw dozens fall in the dirt when they were hit. The lizard part of his mind instructed him to not meet a similar end, though all the other parts of his body were already failing him.

The artillery struck the ground in concentrated points along the trench line, suggesting that the attack – if nothing else – was premeditated and carefully planned by the POA or whomever it was they were fighting. Each shell designed to keep the Coalition suppressed, pinned in one spot, and unable to fight back.

And then. Silence. The artillery stopped falling from the skies, the earth stopped shaking. A break in the rumbling and the gunfire. A break in the destruction.

Eli looked up, taking a survey of the world around him. The sunlight had morphed into overcast as the stormy clouds overtook them. Dark clouds filled the skies. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, faint, nearly tranquil. The storm had arrived.

There was a hiss, like the sound of a broken pipe or a distressed snake. And from the buried shells of artillery – red clouds of smoke rose. Streams of strawberry red smoke enveloped the prisoners. Spreading across, hanging close to the ground. He knew what it was, the tunnels of Korea, his bootcamp training, all of it came to the front of his mind. Eli’s hands instinctively moved for his pack right before a whistle was blown.

“GAS! MASKS ON! MASKS ON!” A regular screamed.

Frantic movement filled the prisoners as they tried to unhook the plastic masks from their packs. Eli’s fingers clasped onto the cool black plastic, practically tearing it off of its hook, before he wrapped the elastic band around his face. He could feel a faint trace of the gas make its way into his nose. An acidic smell stung his nose, reeking of chemicals like bleach or ammonia. Even the tiny amount of gas that found its way into his nose was enough to absolutely floor him. The gas irritated the flesh inside, setting his nose and the back of his throat on fire. Before he knew it, he had keeled over in a coughing fit as the gas stung his throat. Even with the tiny hint of gas he inhaled, it was comparable to barbed wire being sunk down his throat and jostled about. He pressed on a button to clear the mask of whatever leftover gas was trapped inside, before taking a look around. His eyes and throat burned, he felt light headed. His heart pounded somewhere in his brain. Dazed, he stood from his trench. Alive, but narrowly so.

Through the fogged lenses of his mask, the red mist had grown and encircled everything. The previously green forest had become a smokey red. The air, a strange tangerine. Eli heard someone coughing nearby. When he looked down the trench, he could see a face struggling to locate his mask. He pawed at his bag, with a spare arm wrapped around his nose to prevent himself from beathing in the air, but the damage was already being done. There was thick saliva trickling from his mouth, his eyes watered, hands shook terribly forcing him to fumble the mask. He looked more akin to a rabid dog than a human. Surrounded by the toxic orange, almost helpless…

Eli’s heart sunk when he recognized the young face.

It was Omar.

He saw the boy squirm, flailing uncontrollably as he fumbled the mask. There was a feeling within Eli, something stronger than pity and more personal than sorrow. In that moment, he was taken back to Korea. In the subway tunnels underneath Seoul, paralyzed by fear. He was taken to the moment when the hurricanes stole his home, family, and childhood. He was taken back to the helpless moments of his life, when the rug was pulled out from underneath him, when there was nobody to save him. Looking at Omar was akin to looking at a mirror.

And so, through the red toxic smoke, though death surrounded him, Eli found himself running towards Omar almost by instinct. He grabbed his pack, undid the mask from its hook, forced it onto his face, and cleared it of the toxic fumes. With a quick movement, the straps were secured over the boy’s head.

As soon as Eli let go, Omar fell to the ground. He was coughing hard, Eli watched as his back shook violently. For a moment, he feared that Omar would knock the mask loose. But, slowly, Omar calmed. He rolled over on his back, obviously exhausted. Eli could see through the fogged lenses of his mask, that his eyes were weary. Omar tried to say something to Eli, but the gas mask muffled his voice beyond comprehension, and even if he could hear through the hard plastic – there was no way Omar’s throat was fine enough to speak. Yet, he understood and a silent gesture of gratitude was briefly shared between the two.

After a moment, Eli gestured for Omar to follow. They had to find the rest of Misfit, and he didn’t have the slightest clue as to where they went. The guns around them had picked up once again, firing through the orange gas into the skies above to ward off dragons who were preparing for yet another blazing run. Some parts of the trench that were on fire continued to burn, releasing black smoke which mixed with the gas to create a deadly opaque cloud. Blocking vision for all that marched through. Eli picked the direction where he was last with Misfit, and with Omar slowly following him, they both made their way up the trench line.

Masked prisoners and regulars alike swarmed and had returned to their positions within the trench. But the dead had begun to pool around them. Lifeless bodies, charred by the flames of the dragons or choked by the noxious fumes had been littered not just within the trench but also on the grounds surrounding it. Eli only stared at their limp bodies. Mostly prisoners and phantoms. Mostly. Dead regulars were few, though noticeable.

Eli saw a prisoner who was sitting upright on the trench floor. His back was pressed against the dirt wall. His face was chalky and pale. His eyes bloodshot and staring at the ground. Pink foam oozed from his mouth, with trails of blood steadily dripping. Eli’s eye twitched at the sight. Morbid. The prisoner was still alive, though hardly. Muscles spasms and jerks of motion from his eyes being the only clue to his status. And then it all ended, his body giving one final spasm of defiance, before falling still – eyes glazing over and clouding with red blood, mouth covered in the pink foam.

He looked back to Omar to see if he had seen it yet, and once he was sure he hadn’t, tried to block the sight.

Just as they rounded a corner, a masked regular marched up to them. His mask had a transmitter buried inside, and they heard his voice clearly, “You two! Get sorted over at Captain Juma’s position immediately! Go!” His digitized voice commanded.

Eli and Omar wordlessly complied, following his instructions. Up ahead was a collection of Phantoms and Regulars alike who worked to defend the Nexus. Prisoners were being handed weapons and equipment, while the regulars frantically manned the defenses and barked orders. Everyone complied. Everyone feared for their lives. In that moment, they were all in the pocket of the Coalition’s whim.

Until they heard a deep wail that rumbled from the forest. A deep siren, a cry, like a foghorn.

The noise was painfully loud, and it blared over the skies with a thunderous boom that threatened to deafen them all. A deep churn like metal scraping against metal. A deep and mechanical roar. The roar pierced through the air for about ten seconds and then it faded back into silence. Eli stopped right in his tracks, turning to see where the noise had come from, his heart thudded in his chest threatening to burst if its drum-like pace didn’t slow. It came from the jungle somewhere just behind the tree line. The phantoms manning the guns stopped firing. Everyone looked towards the jungle with both fear and anticipation. All fell silent.

The roar boomed through the skies again. This time it was even louder. Whatever it was that made the sound, it had gotten closer. It boomed again for about ten seconds before it fell silent. Nervous chatter filled the hanging air after the roar died down. But a new sound joined the fray. Thudding.

One. Two. Three. Four.

It sounded like an column of drummers in a band marching towards them. The jungle shook with every step. Eli's blood felt icy in his veins. The roar boomed once more. Just through the shadows Eli spotted something moving downhill. And then, it erupted from the tree cover.

Eli could only stare. Like a gangrenous rot, terror seeped into his veins, freezing him where he stood. His eyes were locked in a impossible break, as everything he knew about the world shattered and vanished. Like sand being blown in the wind.

He was locked in a stare. On a metal giant were three massive ruby-red eyes.

And they were staring right back...

>>>[Verifying...]

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==The Revolutionary Department Of Intelligence==

==[THE COLD WAR]==

==[MAP OF FAREWIND, 1239]==

The continent of Farewind is a vast and - frankly - quite troubled region. Centuries have showcased the rise and fall of empires, vast and mighty. From the magical dominance of the Elven colleges in Valdacia and Avonia, to the Avian Empires in Oran, and to the strength of the Bizonian Tsars - at least before the Tsardom fell into anarchy and warlord infighting. It is a region defined by conflict, revolution, and chaos. But this new era threatens to challenge everything that came before...

To the west stands the two predominant superpowers of Narva. The Ostraland United Commonwealth and The Greater Avonian Empire. Both of these nations are two of the most advanced superpowers on Planet Narva and are bitter rivals. The Ostralands are a nation born out of the fires of anti-monarchy and anti-absolutist revolution well over a century ago. Radicalism has become the defining ideology of the Commonwealth, a hybrid of democratic rule, anti-monarchy sentiment, and the fanatic devotion to exporting democracy across the globe. The primarily human nation of the Ostralands lacks the magical stores of ekron found naturally scattered across Farewind and North Gelandia, and as such the Commonwealth relies far more heavily on technological means. Pioneering the industrial revolution and being the first to develop - and use - a glitterbomb weapon during the darkest days of The Sacred War.

Across the channel lies The Avonian Empire. Another modern nation, but one that stands as the Commonwealth's polar opposite. It is an absolutist, elven, superpower. A nation that relies just as much on its hybrid magitech armies as it does its bloated and inefficient slave economy. After The Sacred War, a parliament was established to rule in tandem with The Emperor (And ultimately the late General Bonneville), yet the Emperor maintains supreme control over not only the Empire's politics, but its destiny as a whole. Aggressive, the Iron Phoenix of the continent has reigned supreme across Farewind with her cruel talons subjugating, enslaving, or annihilating the populations to her whim. It is of the best interests in the RDI to ensure that the Iron Phoenix's tyrannical reign is challenged, anywhere and everywhere.

[MAY THE REVOLUTION ALWAYS BE IN SAFE HANDS]

==[WEAPONS OF THE COLD WAR]==

Name: Rainbow Gas

Type: Chemical Munitions

Country of Origin: The Ostraland Commonwealth, The Greater Avonian Empire, The Heavenly Dragon Empire

Information: Chemical Munitions have been used since the Trench War of 1200, but “Rainbow Gas” is a newer - deadlier - rendition of chemical warfare possible thanks to magitech powers. The Rainbows get their name due to the codenames assigned to the different compounds, each with their own purpose, effect, and potency. Fielded by armies across both the Belford Alliance, and the Continental Pact, The Rainbow Gasses have become a highlight of modern “Cruel Warfare”. Killing thousands in moments, and leaving scars that can last - potentially - for generations.

Chemical RED - also known as “Strawberry Gas” is a Neurotoxin used primarily by the Empire. It has a distinct red-orange smoke that it creates whenever deployed, thus giving it both its codename and its nickname. Inhaling it creates a similar effect to inhaling chlorine gas, destroying mucous membranes along the nasal cavity, throat, and lungs causing them to bleed. Once the chemical compound of RED cross the bloodstream, it will destroy organic tissue, resulting in grotesque inflammation, major organ rupturing, tissue decay, seizures, and ultimately - death, all after one full inhalation.

Chemical VIOLET - Is a airborne blood agent utilized primarily by the Empire. It robs the body of its ability to utilize blood after being absorbed into the bloodstream, slowly shutting down organs and vital tissues through internal suffocation. What makes this poison deadly is the fact that it can manifest in the water cycle, raining back down in nearby areas as a sticky, white, and highly toxic “powder” that can infect and kill massive swathes of local civilian populations. Nicknamed “Hell Snow” for its appearance and potential for harm.

Chemical BLUE - is a Nerve Agent developed by the Commonwealth. Colorless, but with a distinct metallic odor. Exposure to BLUE typically leads to muscle paralysis in effected soldiers which - after only a few seconds of inhalation - can render a soldier unable to breath and cause their heart to stop beating if they are not moved to ventilation in time.

Chemical YELLOW - is a herbicidal agent, used by both the Commonwealth and The Empire. It destroys plant matter, destroying potential cover for hostile troops, destroys crops that can starve populations, and can leak into water sources proving lethal if ingested. But the most terrifying aspect of YELLOW is the generational damage it causes, leaving infants mutilated from the womb, and destroying miles of land in just a single spray.

Chemical GREEN- is a biological compound derived from a engineered version of the Keter-rod bacterium. Deployed in a green smoke cloud to confirm proper insertion, GREEN can infect a host body immediately and will begin to wreck chaos on the body. Attacking the lymph nodes in humans and the magical nodes in elves, large, burning, pus-filled sores will grow on the host body in all regions. Extremely high-fevers, muscle spasms, seizures, vomiting, and the closing of vital airways to GREEN bacterium will always result in a long and excruciating death. Due not only to the cruelty of the weapon - but most importantly, the volatility and easily transmitted nature - GREEN has been banned by both the Commonwealth and Empire, though the Heavenly Dragon Empire still maintains a significant arsenal of the weapons. During the Kiote War, exclusion zones were established after it was confirmed that the River Republic had authorized the use of GREEN against both Warrior Elf and Sevillan populations. Several villages and territories remain vacant to this day after the deaths of thousands to the hands of the chemical compound, and to prevent a mass outbreak of the virus, many of the victims were forced into quarantine until their deaths allowed the virus to purge itself for good...

PICTURED: Aircraft Belonging To The Commonwealth Airforce Spraying Chemical Yellow Over Kiote Territory To Eradicate Riverlander Plant Cover During The Kiote War

==[END TRANSMISSION]==


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