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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1838202
When an alien force threatens the Earth, will we have enough manpower to stop it?
         The cold murky air engulfed the city of Drango, the capital of the nation Hirit. A dense fog cut off view of the southern part of the city, and the dark rain clouds overhead made it look like the scene of some sort of ghost movie. All this was rushing threw 2nd Lieutenant Nate Eliot's head as he pulled his rifle closer to his body. This was the tenth day of his look out, and for the love of god he couldn't see anything because of that blasted fog. A buss issued from his radio, followed by a voice "Second Lieutenant, report," it was the voice of Brigadier General John Farmer, the man Eliot once admired before he was shipped of to Cyro-tech, and came back not quite human. Eliot shuffled his rifle into his left hand as he grabbed his walkie-talkie, and pushed the button, silencing the bussing "nothing, sir, what are we even looking for? I cant see a damn thin-" "Lieutenant, keep your eyes open. Over and out." Eliot sighed, he ran his right, gloved hand though his short, military style hair cut.
         Eliot stood atop of 5-story tall building, the yellow paint that covered the outer walls was chipping. On the top of the building was a small shack, the door was absent as was the roof, directly after entering the shack was a ramp that led upwards, to the edge of the building. Eliot sat just inside the door, the the immediate left, cover from the freezing winds. Eliot looked up the ramp, at the dark sky, and sighed again before jumping, the buzzing again.
"Eliot! He is coming your way!" This was the voice of Chief Warrant Officer Dean Michel, he had been on the floor just below, Eliot tensed up, grabbed his rifle in both hands and stood up. He felt the heat build up in his face, he smiled as he waited for it. The buzz of the radio, than silence, than bang, the door to the roof was kicked open. Eliot counted 4 steps before he jumped from behind the door frame and squeezed of one round.
         The man screamed as the Flare round hit him in the back, he turned around before Eliot could fire again and, with his own mini-uzi, nd fired a storm of rounds. Eliot screamed as the force of the bullets knocked him to the ground, his DragonSkin bullet proof vest took nearly the full force of the shots. The man walked to Eliot, his hand over his chest where the Flare round left is unmistakable wound. Around the 23rd century a new bullet was invented, dubbed the Flare Round, the tip of the bullet was made with glass that, when reaching a certain temperature, would shatter upon impact. Around the time this glass was created a scientist found a way to compress air and directional paths to make the air spin. A gun smith, Robert Flare, devised a round that, upon firing the glass would reach that temperature and when it hit the intended target, would explode and send in a gust of highly pressurized circling air, thus the Flare Round was born. Eliot looked at the large wound, almost the size of a baseball, and than at the man. The man shook his head, what little scraps of hair he had eft followed his head in lazy trails "Why?! Why are you stopping me?! Im brining about a new God!" He screamed then ran up the ramp.
         Eliot watched the man and reached for his walkie talkie, he pressed the button and said "Green light, fire at will." The crazy man smiled as he raised his blood covered hand and looked at the cloudy sky "Necatu floraca etri mondani fortana emipalago!" The man screamed, Eliot stared at him, waiting. Suddenly a dark blue light shot from his hand and flew into the heavens. Eliot watched the flair until he head a daefening pow, then he saw the mans back explode in a bloody mess, another Flare round this time though a much higher caliber. Eliot closed his eyes and smiled "Mission accomplished."
                             3 weeks Later.
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