u/Celestial_Zwei_Dei

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Chapter cover⬆️

https://www.reddit.com/u/Celestial_Zwei_Dei/s/yqla7NgPu8

Synopsis⬆️

https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/s/sokGlIFLkp

Chapter 1⬆️

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/168738/miesenthrop

Read more chapters on the ROYAL ROAD🔥⬆️

Volume 1 - Executioners

Chapter 2 - The Down-Below

May 13, 2010

Jiro jolted awake to the roaring wail of sirens.

He bounced out of bed like he’d been stung, hurriedly threw on his school uniform, and bolted straight for Natsumi’s room.

She was already there, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the last few buttons of her shirt.

"Natsumi! Come on, we need to find my dad!"

She gave a sharp nod, and they took off running.

The Major was out on the parade grounds, barking orders in a loud, steady cadence.

Somewhere in the distance, a heavy

explosion rattled the air. Jiro and Natsumi ran up and waited anxiously for him to finish.

Franklin spun on his heel and spotted them. "You two! Get on that bus, now!"

Jiro nodded frantically. "But where are we going?!"

The Major cut through the air with his hand. "Evacuating Tokyo. Head west!"

Jiro froze. "What about you?!"

Franklin shook his head. ​“My job’s right here! Get your ass to the bus, now!”

Jiro opened his mouth to argue, but Natsumi placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's go," she said quietly.

Jiro gritted his teeth but followed her.

The two of them sat in the back of the bus, squeezed in with about a dozen other people—mostly kids, women, and a few elderly folks.

The traffic jam was endless. There was no beginning and no end in sight; it had taken them a full twenty-four hours just to clear 30 kilometers (18.6 miles).

Outside, the streets were eerie and half-empty, filled only with the low, constant drone of idling engines.

Jiro stepped out of the bus to get some fresh air. Nearby, two Japanese soldiers and an American officer were huddled together, talking quietly.

"Are we going to get all the refugees out in time?" one soldier asked.

The officer looked exhausted, his eyes scanning the stalled convoy. "Hell if I know... The enemy has started encircling Greater Tokyo. They’re swatting our fighters out of the sky like flies. We’ve already lost five tanks and fifty armored vehicles."

The other soldier pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his hands trembling. "I heard..." He swallowed hard. "I heard they’re slaughtering everything that moves. Leaving nothing but ashes."

The officer didn't answer, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette of his own.

Jiro’s stomach dropped.

‘Encircled... slaughtering everything... damn it.’

He looked back at the infinite line of stuck cars.

‘We’re never going to make it. Our only choice is... to go on foot.’

His train of thought was violently shattered by a blast.

BOOM

A truck barely a hundred meters (109 yards) ahead erupted into a fireball.

BOOM

Another blast rocked a bus three hundred meters (328 yards) behind them.

Jiro sprinted back to his bus, yanked the door open, and dragged Natsumi out by force, pulling her straight into a narrow alleyway.

A soldier leaned out of the bus window, shouting, "Hey, where are you—"

BOOM

The bus blew apart, scattering twisted metal and bloody debris across the asphalt.

Natsumi stared at the smoking wreckage, her eyes wide, completely paralyzed.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" Jiro roared.

Natsumi snapped out of it, her legs moving instantly as she ran right behind him.

BOOM

BOOM

Short explosions, bright flashes, the screech of tearing metal, panicked screams, and fractured orders echoed all around them.

They scrambled over a low fence into the yard of a suburban house. Jiro yanked at the back door—it was unlocked.

‘Perfect. Nobody has time to lock their doors in a panic.’

They burst inside, and Natsumi immediately began scanning the rooms. "In here!" she yelled, throwing open a storm cellar door.

Both of them lunged inside and slammed the door shut behind them. The walls vibrated violently under a lethal hail of shrapnel.

Jiro clicked on his phone’s flashlight. Natsumi was curled up against the wall, hugging her knees. Neither of them said a word.

Minutes ticked by in agonizing silence.

After about fifteen minutes, the rumbling finally died down.

Jiro raised his head. "I think... it stopped."

Natsumi nodded, slowly standing up.

Jiro took the lead, pushing the cellar door open. He froze for a second, disoriented by what he saw. He was looking straight out onto the street.

Turning around, he realized the house was completely gone—nothing but rubble and dead silence.

Natsumi stepped out behind him. "Why'd you stop?" Then she saw it, too. Both of them stood frozen.

The low hum of an engine echoed from around the corner. Natsumi took a step forward. "Come on, let’s ask them for help!"

Jiro grabbed her by the collar and slammed her down to the ground.

"Ow!"

Jiro dropped down beside her, quickly clapping his hand over her mouth.

The sound grew louder. Jackson peered cautiously over a pile of debris, his heart leaping into his throat.

A tank.

But it was pitch black, and it looked wrong. The barrel was much thicker than normal, and the turret sported two autonomous, moving machine guns that scanned the area on their own.

Across the street, a man in a torn, soot-stained military uniform staggered out from under some wreckage.

Jiro waved his hand frantically, trying to signal the man to stay down.

The soldier didn't see him. A split second later, a burst of gunfire from the tank stitched across his chest, and he collapsed onto the dirt.

Jiro's heart hammered against his ribs as he pulled his head back down. Natsumi stared with wide, terrified eyes, pressing herself tightly against Jiro's chest.

The engine revved, the sound gradually fading into the distance.

Silence.

Jiro finally let go of Natsumi. She pulled away, breathing heavily. "Wh-What... what the hell was that?!"

Jackson didn't answer right away. He just exhaled a long, shaky breath. "We need to get the fuck out of here. Right now."

Natsumi closed her eyes, took a beat, and nodded. She pulled out her phone and unlocked it. "Damn it... no signal."

Jiro patted his pockets and pulled his out. The screen was completely shattered. He sighed. "Well... that was a lucky fall."

He tossed the dead phone onto the dirt and crouched low, surveying their surroundings. Before them lay the ruins of a broken town. To the left, a house stood without a roof; ahead, a massive pile of stones; to the right, a building torn completely in half.

‘A lunar landscape.’ he thought bitterly.

"It's clear... We need to figure out which way to go, Natsumi."

She stood up to look around, biting her lip at the devastation. "That road over there. It’s the main highway out of Tokyo," she said. "That’s our way out."

Jiro nodded, looking at the ruins. They started making their way toward the highway.

Then, Jiro stopped. "Hold on."

Natsumi dropped into a low crouch. "What is it?"

He turned and walked toward the fallen soldier. The man's eyes were closed, his uniform soaked in blood from a dozen bullet holes.

Bile rose in Jiro's throat, but he swallowed it down and began rifling through the body.

"What are you doing?!" Natsumi hissed.

Jiro didn't answer, his hands moving quickly. He closed his eyes, unbuckled the dead soldier's webbing, and felt something hard.

A holster.

He pulled out a Minebea P9 pistol and quickly backed away from the corpse. Somewhere far off, short bursts of gunfire crackled like dry firewood, accompanied by the dull thuds of distant explosions.

Natsumi let out a breath. "Fine... fine. Do you even know how to use that thing?"

Jiro dropped the magazine, checking it. All nine rounds were there. "Yeah. My dad took me to the firing range plenty of times."

Natsumi raised an eyebrow. "That... doesn't sound entirely legal."

Jackson let out a low chuckle. "He's a military man, not a cop." He slammed the magazine back into place. "Alright, the plan is simple. We follow the highway out of Tokyo, heading west, but we stick to the ruins."

Natsumi stood up, crossing her arms. "Wouldn't it be better to try and head back to the base? To your dad?"

Jackson shook his head. "Not an option." He turned back toward Tokyo. "Listen."

Natsumi cupped a slightly trembling hand over her ear. The main wall of sound was coming precisely from that direction.

Rat-tat-tat-tat

BOOM

Boom-rat-tat-tat-boom

The noises bled together into one massive, terrifying echo.

Natsumi dropped her hand. "I’m guessing you don't have a plan for what we do once we actually get out of the city, do you?"

Jiro gave a bitter smile. "Not a clue."

Natsumi sighed. "Well, it's not like we have a ton of options. Let's move."

Crouching low, they slipped through the rubble, keeping parallel to the main road.

For about an hour, they moved in total silence, underscored only by the distant symphony of gunfire and explosions. As they navigated the unidentifiable remains of what used to be a building, Jiro happened to glance into a small courtyard.

He froze.

There were about a dozen bodies scattered there. Big and small.

Natsumi turned around. "Why'd you stop?"

Jiro shuddered, then picked up the pace, moving almost too fast. "Just keep moving."

Natsumi shrugged and followed him.

‘What the hell is happening here? Why? Who would do this?!’

He pushed forward, climbing over piles of debris, but the image remained burned into his mind.

Another half hour passed before they reached a shopping mall, slipping inside through a massive hole in the wall. The interior was a horror show. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bodies littered the floor. Some were riddled with bullet holes; others had been torn apart by blasts.

Natsumi slapped a hand over her mouth and took a step back. Jiro felt like his feet were glued to the floor. They stood in stunned silence for a full minute.

Suddenly, Natsumi spun around and dropped to her knees, retching violently.

Jiro kept his eyes fixed ahead, fighting down the exact same urge. "We... we need to find food," he managed to say, his voice tight. "And clothes."

Natsumi stayed on the floor for two long minutes before finally pushing herself up. "Y-Yeah... a school uniform isn't exactly... practical."

Without looking back at her, Jiro started up a broken escalator.

They spent about an hour navigating the wreckage, doing their absolute best not to look at the bodies.

When they finally stepped back outside, they looked completely different.

Jiro was wearing sturdy work boots, baggy black sweatpants, a thick green sweater, and a baseball cap. Natsumi wore sneakers, heavy-duty jeans, and a black hoodie. Both carried backpacks stuffed with canned food.

‘Yesterday, I was packing my bag for college.’ Jiro thought grimly. ‘Now, I’m looting a mall in the middle of the apocalypse. What a life.’

"It’s weird," Natsumi muttered, breaking his train of thought. "We haven't run into any enemy soldiers this whole time."

"They probably pushed into the center," Jiro replied, gesturing back toward the mall. "After... all that, there's no real point in keeping troops stationed out here."

Natsumi winced slightly. "Still, let's be careful. Come on."

Two hours later, dusk was settling in, and the sun began its slow descent. They walked past a plaza dominated by a massive crater. The area was choked with debris, water hissed from ruptured pipes, and charred cars and buses lay scattered about. Off to the side, a broken gas main fed a steady tongue of flame into the evening air.

Suddenly, a short burst of gunfire rattled from around the corner.

Jiro stopped dead in his tracks. "Get down!" he hissed.

Both dropped to the dirt, and Jackson slid the pistol out of his pocket. About a hundred meters (109 yards) away, a squad of five soldiers was patrolling.

Jiro narrowed his eyes, trying to get a good look.

‘What kind of gear is that? No army wears that uniform. Terrorists? All black gear... helmets... purple armbands... what kind of organization is this?’

His thoughts cut short as the group began pivoting in their direction.

Cold sweat broke out across his back. Without a word, Jiro and Natsumi began crawling backwards into the massive crater, using the shattered concrete for cover.

Natsumi slithered right past a charred corpse, keeping her eyes locked forward, refusing to look.

The heavy thud of combat boots drew closer. Jiro moved like a snake.

‘They aren't even talking to each other... Damn it, I can't even tell what nationality they are. Japanese? American? Chinese? Russian? Who are they?’

His eyes caught an open doorway inside the crater wall. He gestured toward it, and Natsumi nodded, crawling right behind him. They scrambled inside, practically throwing themselves through the opening.

Total darkness.

They moved deeper into the structure before Natsumi finally clicked on her phone's flashlight. Concrete walls, exposed wiring, several electrical panels, and a flight of stairs leading down. As they descended, a foul, stagnant stench hit their noses.

Natsumi pinched her nostrils shut. "Looks like a maintenance hub for the utility lines..."

Jiro did the same. "Yeah, definitely." He looked around. "Wait... do you think this connects to the subway?"

Natsumi straightened up, her eyes lighting up. "Of course! We can move underground! I’ve taken the subway my whole life—I know exactly which line heads west!"

Jiro looked at her. "Lead the way."

Natsumi nodded quickly and took off down the corridor.

Five minutes later, they squeezed through a narrow maintenance hatch and dropped straight onto the tracks of a pitch-black tunnel.

A station platform loomed right beside them.

Jiro cupped his hands together, letting Natsumi step up to scramble onto the platform. Once she was up, she braced her feet and threw him a hand, hauling him up beside her.

Natsumi shone her flashlight onto the station sign, a small smile breaking through her exhaustion. "Bingo! This is the Tozai Line! It goes all the way west!"

Jiro let out a heavy sigh. "Finally, a bit of luck... Which station is this?"

Natsumi paused for a moment, racking her brain. "This is Nihombashi... and the end of the line is Nakano. We have to walk about... ten kilometers (6.2 miles)."

Jiro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "How far?!"

Natsumi shrugged. "Think of it as a ruck march, soldier boy." She hopped off the platform and started trekking down the tracks.

Jiro groaned. "Hey, hold up."

Natsumi turned around. "What?"

"Give me the phone. We need to tear down a subway map from the wall and bring it with us."

Natsumi blinked. "Oh, right. Good call. Here." She walked back and handed him the phone, the flashlight still glowing.

Jiro walked alongside her, studying the map under the beam of light. "Hey... what’s this pink line? The one intersecting ours."

Natsumi leaned in to look. "Oh... that’s the Oedo Line." She scratched her chin. "We’ll cross it at Iidabashi. It loops around, heads north, and then cuts even further west toward the outskirts. If we switch there, we can bypass the detour through the city center."

Jiro raised an eyebrow. "And how many kilometers is that?"

Natsumi shrugged. "No idea."

Jiro began studying the map’s scale, measuring it with his thumb for a few minutes.

"Roughly... eight kilometers (5 miles)... minus the distance we cut by avoiding the end of this line... It’s probably fifteen kilometers (9.3 miles) total."

Natsumi groaned. "Four hours... We’re going to come out somewhere close to dawn."

Jiro just sighed and folded the map, slipping it away. "Ruck march."

"Shut up."

May 14, 2010

Four hours later, both of them were dragging their feet, barely able to move. They were surrounded by absolute blackness, having turned off the phone to save the battery. Their eyes had long since adjusted to the dark.

Then, they saw an incline.

Natsumi straightened her back. "It’s sloping up! That’s definitely the depot! We’re basically there!"

Jiro picked up the pace. "Finally!"

Half an hour later, they stepped out into the open. It was still dark outside, somewhere around two in the morning.

"Ahhhh," Natsumi stretched, inhaling deeply. "Fresh air."

Jiro slumped down onto the edge of the platform, taking a deep breath of his own.

‘Fresh air... I thought we were going to suffocate down there with the ventilation system offline. Thank God there was enough oxygen.’

Natsumi stretched her legs out. "Well... I guess we can finally eat something."

Jiro was already pulling canned food out of his pack. "Eat? I’m going to inhale everything we have."

Natsumi gave a soft snort.

They ate quickly and hungrily, the silence broken only by the sound of chewing.

Jiro finished first, collapsing flat on his back right there on the concrete. "Phew... I’ve been waiting for that all night."

Natsumi didn't answer, still busy finishing her meal.

In the distance, four silhouettes appeared. With their eyes fully adjusted to the dark, the shapes were unmistakable.

Jiro froze, reaching over to yank Natsumi’s sleeve.

"What do you want?! Can’t you see I’m eating?"

He yanked harder. Natsumi fell silent, her eyes tracking his gaze.

Jiro slowly slid the pistol from his pocket.

The figures were about fifty meters (54 yards) away. Three of them began heading down toward the grass, but one stopped, staring directly toward the platform.

A second later, the silhouette began advancing toward them, raising a rifle.

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Chapter cover ⬆️

https://www.reddit.com/u/Celestial\_Zwei\_Dei/s/osjFHSThTo

Synopsis⬆️

https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/s/fLrsHZ2tKv

Prologue ⬆️

Volume I - Executioners

Chapter 1 - Congratulations, my Leader

April 27, 2010

Deep in a forest near Berlin, nature was doing its thing. Birds were chirping, squirrels were hopping through the trees, and spring had painted everything in bright green.

But down in one of the ravines, the fallen leaves and a thick layer of dirt suddenly came alive.

A second later, a hand burst through, followed by a whole body.

He looked about twenty-five. Dark circles under his eyes, face caked in mud, but otherwise looking healthy enough. He was wearing the rags of an old military uniform that had rotted away ages ago.

Blood-red eyes scanned the surroundings. His face was completely blank. Then, his eyes flashed blue. The blank calm vanished, and his eyes went wide.

Helmwald slowly got to his feet and started clawing his way up the slope.

‘What… where… I made it?’

His hand slipped in the mud, but he caught himself on a root, gasping for air.

‘Okay… okay… need to get out of here… run… to the city.’

Grit-toothed, he grabbed a handful of grass and finally hauled himself out of the ravine.

Helmwald dropped to his knees, panting heavily. But when he looked up, he froze dead in his tracks.

Standing right in front of him was a squad of figures. About a dozen people.

They wore black boots, baggy black pants, and sleek black jackets with faint glowing blue lines. Form-fitting black body armor covered their chests, and their heads were encased in helmets with small antennas and pitch-black visors hiding their faces. Every single one of them wore a purple armband with a strange, unrecognizable symbol on their left arm.

At the front of the squad stood a man dressed similarly, but in lighter gear, with his hands behind his back. He wore a black balaclava, dark tactical goggles, and a purple beret with the same symbol. He was very tall, about 201 cm, other soldiers were also about 193-202 cm.

“Congratulations, my Leader,” the man said in German. His voice sounded raspy, strange, almost like he had an accent.

‘What the… they don’t look like ours…’

Helmwald opened his mouth to speak.

ELDAN.

The word screamed in his head. The whole world flashed red for a split second, and his eyes stretched wide. The blue in his eyes instantly snapped back to red, like an electric shock piercing his brain. Then, he just nodded.

“My name is Xargoth, my Leader. May I ask your name?” the man asked, leaning forward slightly.

‘You call me leader, but you don’t even know my—’

ELDAN.

Another shock jolted through his brain, making Helmwald wince. Everything around him turned red again. It wasn’t exactly pain—it felt more like someone was literally messing around inside his mind.

Then his face went blank again, and the world returned to its normal colors. Helmwald paused for a second. “Helmwald Conrad von Miesenthrop.”

Xargoth nodded. “Pleasure to meet you. Please, come with us.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward a path. Helmwald started walking after him, not even glancing down at his rotted uniform.

A few minutes later, the group arrived at a large, empty clearing.

Xargoth signaled to the soldiers. They pulled out some kind of remotes that emitted a dull beeping sound, along with devices resembling oversized nozzles, and began spraying something toward the empty field.

Where they sprayed, an object started materializing out of thin air, like a picture fading into view.

It was a massive, black metal structure. One end looked like the bow of a ship, while the other featured swept wings with jet turbines. Purple lines pulsed across the hull, dotted with dim windows and rods that looked a lot like machine-gun barrels.

A hatch lowered, and the soldiers marched inside. Xargoth and Helmwald followed right behind.

The interior was just as alien as the outside—futuristic control panels, harsh white lights, tables, and seats.

Helmwald took it all in.

‘What the fuck is even going ho—’

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

The world flashed red three times. Helmwald involuntarily clutched his head, feeling like someone was literally scratching the inside of his brain. Then he let go, his face turning completely expressionless again.

The craft began to lift off. You couldn’t feel it from the inside; the only giveaway was the trees outside the windows disappearing downward. Helmwald sank into one of the seats. It turned out to be incredibly soft.

Xargoth finally entered the room. He bowed slightly and sat across from him. “Leader, I assume you need to know our next target to guide us?”

Helmwald gave a stiff nod.

“Then listen well, Leader… I believe it is time to begin purging the humans from this planet.”

Helmwald flinched slightly.

‘WHAT THE FU—’

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

ELDAN.

This time, it didn’t just feel like a scratch—it felt like a tank had just run over his brain. He clamped his teeth together, holding his head. Xargoth didn’t even blink.

Helmwald finally raised his head, his red eyes pulsing with a steady glow. “And where do we start?”

Xargoth leaned back, steepling his fingers. “A country called Japan. It makes for an excellent staging ground, so we should start the purge there.”

May 12, 2010

Helmwald was sitting inside the same craft, but now it was floating on the water. He was staring at the monitors, which clearly displayed the coastline.

Xargoth stepped up behind him. “Your thoughts, my Leader?”

Helmwald studied the screens, scanning digital troop tallies and a map of Odawara City. “First, we fire a warning shot to test their structural integrity and see how tough their buildings are. After that, we open up with a massive artillery barrage, followed immediately by a landing party to catch them completely off guard.”

Xargoth nodded. “Excellent. Care to fill me in on the details?”

​Tachimara narrowed her eyes. “Fine. We’re doing this the hard way.” ​She grabbed his hands and tried to yank him up… but he didn't even budge. ​“Come on! Move your ass!”

​Jiro just stared at her, the corners of his mouth twitching.

​Natsumi turned red from the effort, finally letting go and panting for air. ​“Ugh… sometimes I swear I hate that you’re an athlete.”

​Jiro opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly, a faint whistling sound cut through the air, followed by a massive explosion.

​Natsumi jumped, her eyes widening in shock. Jiro flinched and bolted off the bench.

​Both of them whipped their heads toward the sound.

​The cafe was completely blown apart. Debris was scattered all over the street, and parked cars were blaring their alarms.

Screams erupted down the street as people started running away from the blast site.

Natsumi went pale. “W-what was that?!”

Jiro stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at what was left of the cafe.

“Terrorists?” Natsumi asked quietly.

Nearby, a woman ran past the fence, clutching her child tightly.

Jiro slowly shook his head, his eyes glued to the burning building. “There was a whistle. Was that… an artillery shell?” He immediately whipped around toward the ocean.

There were black dots in the distance.

“Look… maybe ships?”

Natsumi slowly turned to look. “Is someone… attacking us? North Korea? China?”

Jiro shook his head, still white as a sheet. “I don’t know.”

More whistling sounds split the air.

Jiro grabbed Natsumi’s hand and bolted toward his house.

She didn’t argue—she just ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

“My house has a solid basement! My dad built it just in ca—”

BOOM.

The top of a nearby building exploded, raining down thousands of shards of glass.

Jiro only ran faster.

BOOM.

BOOM-BOOM.

BOOM.

The city shook from the explosions. The streets were covered in tons of rubble and dozens of torn-apart bodies.

Natsumi was completely out of breath, but Jiro kept dragging her forward.

BOOM.

A high-rise right ahead of them spat out a shower of debris.

Jiro was running blind.

Natsumi grabbed him around the neck and yanked him down into a decorative pond right by their feet.

A few seconds underwater, completely out of air.

Then the two popped back up, gasping, and kept running.

Five minutes later, they slammed through the front door of his house and dove straight into the basement, locking the door behind them.

Total silence.

The walls were vibrating slightly from the non-stop explosions. Tachimara collapsed onto the floor, practically coughing up her lungs.

Jiro slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

“What. The. Hell. Is. Happening?” Natsumi asked, staring at the floor.

Jiro paused for a beat. “I don’t know… I really don’t know.”

They just sat there, barely catching their breath. Neither said a word.

‘Holy crap… what… what is this? What the hell is going on? A war? With who? Who’s attacking? Why are they leveling the whole city?’

About ten minutes later, the shelling finally stopped.

Jiro swallowed hard. “I’m… I’m gonna go take a look.”

Natsumi raised her head. She looked deathly pale, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “N-no… don’t go out there, it’s…”

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” Jiro cut her off and headed out.

He climbed out of the basement. His heart was hammering almost as loudly as the shelling. His hands were shaking, and his body felt like it was on fire.

A ringing silence hung over everything.

Jiro went up to the second floor; there was a huge hole in the roof.

Опе paused for a second, then walked into his father’s study.

The door was unlocked.

The room looked strict, very military-style.

The walls were lined with paintings and old photographs.

On the desk sat a photo: a tall, red-haired man in a US military uniform, holding a short Japanese woman with a bob haircut by the shoulder, his other hand resting on the shoulder of a little red-haired boy.

Jiro walked over to a shelf, grabbed his dad’s binoculars, stepped out onto the balcony, and looked out.

The city looked like purgatory. The tallest buildings had been brought down to the size of low-rises. The streets were littered with rubble, burning cars, and mangled bodies.

Acid rose in Jiro’s throat, but he forced himself to look at the sea.

In the distance, there were things that looked like ships… and smaller pods were launching from them, heading down.

‘A LANDING PARTY!’

The realization slammed into Jiro’s brain. He rushed back to his dad’s cabinet, practically ripped the door off, grabbed the car keys, and bolted back downstairs.

He burst into the basement, dripping wet.

“What’s out there?” Natsumi asked, snapping her head up.

Jiro didn’t answer. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the exit. “I’ll explain later!”

Natsumi just nodded.

Jiro shoved her into a used Toyota and slammed the door shut.

He hopped into the driver's seat and floored it out of the driveway, scraping the fence on the way out.

The car tore down the road.

Tachimara stared at him wide-eyed. “Jiro… are you going to explain what's going on or what?!”

He was silent for a tense minute. “I don’t know who they are, but it’s an invasion. A war. I saw ships through the binoculars, and things like… like landing crafts heading for the shore.”

Natsumi went dead quiet. The words choked in her throat.

Soldiers scrambled out of the landing pods one after another, rushing toward the city with rifles raised.

The rifles looked modern, but off. The barrels were narrower and shorter, the magazines looked heavier, and the guns themselves were much more compact.

Soon, short bursts of gunfire began echoing through the city.

Half an hour later, Helmwald stepped onto the shore from a landing craft, alongside Xargot.

Instead of his rotted uniform, he was now wearing the same gear as Xargoth, minus the mask and goggles. A gold symbol gleamed on his chest.

Helmwald gave a nod. “Clean execution. The element of surprise did the trick. We hold the initiative for now.”

Xargoth nodded back. “Yes, my Leader. We’ve bought ourselves some time.”

Helmwald walked down the street, his boots thudding against the pavement.

“I believe we should dig in here,” Xargoth said, surveying the ruins.

“I don’t think so. That would ruin the momentum. I think first… we need to push hard for Tokyo. There’s a reason I picked this specific city nearby. If Tokyo manages to set up a defense while we’re busy digging in here…”

His sentence was cut short by a faint groan.

Nearby, a middle-aged man in a suit was crawling on the ground, his leg covered in blood.

Without a word, Helmwald pulled out a sleek new pistol.

A single bullet to the temple cut the groan short.

Miesenthrop holstered the gun. “As I was saying… you’ve seen the map of Tokyo, right?”

Xargoth nodded. “Yes… it’s incredibly dense. Urban combat there wouldn't be a walk in the park. You are right as always, my Leader.”

Jiro kept the gas pedal pinned to the floor, not even looking at the speedometer.

The road was mostly empty. The people driving into the city had already turned around, and barely anyone had managed to get out in time.

Natsumi sat in the back seat, still ghostly pale.

“W-where are we going?” she asked quietly.

Jiro kept his eyes glued to the road. “To Tokyo. My dad should be there.”

Natsumi nodded, then suddenly gasped.

“MiIKO! I forgot my little sister! We have to go back!”

Jiro shook his head. “We can’t.”

Natsumi leaned forward into the front section of the car. “What do you mean we can’t?! She’s still there!”

Jiro gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “Even if we go back, then what?! We’ll just get gunned down by some random soldiers!” He whipped his head around to face her, his expression twisted with panic. “Did you see what was happening out there?! There is nothing we can do about it! NOTHING!”

Natsumi recoiled and sank back into her seat. Her eyes welled with tears.

Jiro stared back at the road, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.

They rode in total silence for the rest of the trip. Natsumi wouldn't even look at Jiro.

An hour later, they reached the administrative border of Tokyo.

A checkpoint had already been set up at the entrance. A barrier blockaded the road, guarded by two Japanese soldiers holding assault rifles.

When they saw the car approaching, one of them raised his hand, signaling them to stop.

Jiro braked and rolled down the window.

The soldier walked up, raising an eyebrow slightly when he saw a teenager behind the wheel. “Access to Tokyo is temporarily closed, sir.”

Jiro’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean closed?”

The soldier’s expression didn’t change. “Orders. The city is locked down until further notice.”

Jiro leaned forward. “Do you even know what the hell is happening out there?! They’re literally leveling a city to the ground! And you’re not letting us in?”

The soldier shook his head. “Orders. Please turn around and wait for further instructions in the suburbs.”

Natsumi just stared at the floor, completely checked out.

Jiro ground his teeth, kept quiet for a few seconds, and then let out a sharp breath. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

The soldier sighed. “Please, don't make this difficult.”

Without a word, Jiro pulled out his passport and handed it to the soldier, along with his father’s driver’s license.

The soldier took them slowly and scanned them.

Then he froze. “Jackson…”

He stared at the documents for another long moment. Then, pursing his lips, he waved to the other soldier, who began raising the barrier.

He slowly handed the license and passport back. “Here you go… Mr. Jackson.”

Jiro snatched them, slammed on the gas, and the Toyota sped away into the city.

“Why’d you let him through? We have orders,” the second soldier asked, lighting a cigarette.

The first soldier kept his eyes on the road.

“That’s the son of a US Army Major. I don’t need that kind of trouble.”

Jiro slowed down as he navigated the Tokyo streets.

Outside, the city was in a frenzy.

Japanese soldiers were rushing back and forth. Military vehicles—trucks, jeeps, and APCs—occasionally rolled down the streets.

Civilians were casting anxious glances at the chaos and quickening their pace.

Finally, they pulled up to a military base.

“Wait here,” Jiro said, getting out of the car.

Tachimara didn't say a word, still staring blankly at the floorboards.

Jiro walked up to the base entrance.

Two guards stood at the gate. “Stop. Access denied.”

Jiro stopped, looking right past them. “I need to see Major Franklin Jackson. I’m his son.”

One of the soldiers raised an eyebrow. “The Major is busy.”

Jiro looked him dead in the eye. “I. Need. To. See. My. Dad.”

A tense silence hung in the air for a few seconds. “The Major is busy.”

Jiro let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine… fine!”

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

It rang.

For a minute.

Then two.

“Jiro! You’re alive!” his dad’s voice barked through the speaker. “Where are you, son?!”

Jiro flinched slightly. “Dad… I’m at the front gate of your base. The guards won’t let me in.”

Silence for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll handle it.”

The line went dead.

A minute later, one of the guards brought a walkie-talkie to his face. A muffled, angry bark came through the radio.

The soldier just nodded. He put the radio away and gestured for Jiro to come through.

Jiro walked back and opened the car door. Natsumi was sitting hunched over, hiding her face in her hands.

Jackson wanted to say something, but stopped himself. “Natsumi, are you coming with me?”

Total silence for a minute.

Then she nodded, wiped her eyes, and stepped out of the car, keeping her head low.

They walked onto the base grounds.

The place was in absolute chaos.

Soldiers were scrambling around fighter jets, muffled orders were being barked everywhere, people were running back and forth, some were hauling crates, and others were doing pre-flight checks on the jets' wings.

They entered the main building.

The scene inside wasn't any better.

Soldiers in uniform but without helmets were running down the corridors clutching paperwork. The din of shouting and heavy footsteps was almost deafening.

Jiro and Natsumi walked into Franklin’s office.

A tall, grey-haired man in his late late forties was sitting at the desk.

“When will those jets be combat-ready?!”

“Ten minutes, sir!” one of the soldiers replied.

“Good. Mauri, go check the ammo reserves. And you, get a head count on the pilots. Move it!”

Both soldiers saluted.

“Yes, sir!”

They rushed out, completely brushing past the teenagers.

Franklin stood up when he saw Jiro and walked over. He looked his son dead in the eye. “You made it. I know what happened in Odawara. You made it out.” He shifted his gaze to Natsumi. “Tachimara is okay too. Good.”

Jiro paused before speaking. “Dad, what the hell is going on?”

Franklin sat back down, gesturing for the teens to take the chairs across from him.

“I don’t fully understand it myself. Japan has been attacked by… an unknown force. The insignia doesn't belong to any known military or organization. We’ve already sent recon birds up there. Every single one… shot down. We’ve only managed to get scraps of data.”

Jiro and Natsumi took their seats.

Tachimara finally looked up.

Jiro rubbed his forehead. “What kind of scraps?”

The Major went quiet for a second. “I’ve never seen ships like that. They’re… strange. Incredibly strange. Like, how should I put it… alien. They look a bit like US cruisers, but they’re completely different.”

Jiro didn't answer.

‘Different… a different symbol… doesn't belong to any known military… what is even happening? What kind of army is this?’

The Major sighed. “For now, stay here. I’ll let you know what to do next depending on how the situation develops. Do not leave the base. Understood?”

Jiro nodded. Natsumi did the same.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the mess hall.

Jiro was mindlessly poking at a scoop of mashed potatoes with his spoon.

Natsumi hadn't even touched her food.

Neither spoke.

“Jiro…” she started quietly. “What do you think is happening?”

He shook his head. “No idea… if my dad doesn't have a clue, how am I supposed to know?”

He looked up at her. “But only one thing matters… we made it out alive.”

Natsumi was quiet for a second, then raised her slightly bloodshot eyes to meet his. “Thank you.”

She finally picked up her spoon and scooped up a bit of mashed potatoes.

The two ate in silence.

(Thank you for reading! This is my first time posting a series here, and I'd love to know if you want to see Chapter 2. If you enjoyed the story so far, please leave an upvote or a comment—it really lets me know that someone is reading and helps motivate me to write faster!)

An explanation for those living under a rock: Greece and Serbia were locked in bloody combat against Bulgaria, with both sides suffering massive casualties, while the Ottoman Empire and Romania just jumped a weakened Bulgaria and walked through it like a parade.