It was a cold and murky night. There was an eery orange glow throughout the sky as the nightly fires burned at towns and cities across Eurasia. Each fire ablaze with the corpses and possessions of the recently deceased. Acting as a constant reminder of a possible fate that awaited anyone foolish enough to speak out or disobey the Raptor overlords.
The Raptors are a race of highly evolved aliens, clad entirely in scales with piercing red eyes, sharp, elongated teeth and eagle like talons. They’ve have been involved in earth since 2258. At first they appeared to be peaceful, Earth showed tremendous diplomacy in the face of the space dinosaurs by opening talks in an attempt to learn about their history and how they came to discover Earth. It wasn’t long, however, until the Raptors showed their real reason for coming to Earth. They launched a calculated military offensive on the planet, countless ships that had laid in ambush above the atmosphere all uncloaked at once and were moved to strategic spots across the Earth. Washington, Rio, London, Johannesburg, Geneva, Beijing, Tokyo, Sydney. All had a huge shadow cast over them by the looming presence of the aliens, but the largest shadow was draped over Geneva. They dropped down swiftly, neutralising all major weapons caches and capturing all possible world leaders and influential politicians to ensure that their reign would go unopposed. Communications and power lines were cut. Initial response to the advance of the Raptors was that of mass panic and fear. As if overnight, the world had turned into an almost post-apocalyptic war-zone. The streets soon became littered with the dead. The Raptors were merciless, they cut people down without any sense of remorse, it seemed as if they had started a cull on society. Before long a marshal law had been put into effect by the creatures, the streets were no longer safe after dark and the pursuit of knowledge had been outlawed, punishable by death. The Raptors had halted the Earth in its tracks and were keeping it there, in a state of suspended animation.
With the impending onset of a worldwide extinction the human race became desperate. Without leaders the majorities descended into anarchy. The threat of being robbed and killed by a human was almost as high as the ever present Raptors. Economies and democracies were a thing of an unrecognisable past. Whole countries began to fall, the world wasn’t specified in terms of individual countries, but instead by lands separated by the ocean. The world was now now divided between the Americas, Eurasia, the Africas and Australasia.
People began to find blind spots in the Raptors’ vision, bunkers, subways and other locations that had been overlooked, these places quickly became the homes for earth’s varied militia. Each area of the world had their own specific strategy but as they grew in numbers it became increasingly difficult to continue hiding their activities and as a result many were found and quickly ended. As the number of rebels decreased, so did the number of humans still remaining on Earth, this meant the remaining rebels had to be incredibly careful with every aspect of their plans as it was not just their lives on the line, but also the continuation of the human race.
As the years passed the possibility of an extinction became increasingly real. The Raptors were relentless in their censorship of collaboration and scholarship. The countless under-the-radar militia that had appeared in response to the Raptor’s arrival had all but been wiped out. Underground transmissions uttered hushed rumors of a single band of brothers still remaining somewhere in Eurasia. The years had been harsh yet fruitful for this one army. They’d remained entirely undetected by the aliens and in doing so learned certain Raptor traits, traits that they exploited in order to continue operating. The army was known locally as the Rapture, a collective of rebels that consisted of scientists, scholars, and an elite squad of warriors.
It was the job of the scientists to craft a shuttle capable of carrying their warriors onboard the Raptor mothership. The scholars were entrusted with studying the Raptors’ behavioral patterns and biology; they had to find out how to sneak past them and, more importantly, how to deliver a fatal blow to one. The warriors had spent years training under the few remaining martial arts experts, learning how to wield a sword whilst at the same time staying concealed. The intensity of their training coupled with the onset of extinction caused the warriors to become bigger and stronger than anyone could’ve ever thought possible.
---------------------------------------------------
The year is 2335, approximately 83 years haa passed since the Raptors first arrived on Earth. No progress has been made towards claiming the planet back from the treacherous aliens, there is little hope. The Rapture’s scientists have just finished building a shuttle that they hope will carry 25 warriors off of Earth’s desolate crust and onto the vessel believed to be the mother ship floating ominously above Geneva, just as it was when the Raptors first began their reign of tyranny. Amongst the 100 warriors destined to save the world is one Horatio McGruber. Approximately 25 years of age, McGruber has spent the majority of his life training under the wing of the Raptures. As a young boy he felt the wrath of the alien menace first hand as he witnessed his parents brutally torn away from him and massacred. From then on he vowed to put an end to their reign, even if it cost him his life. McGruber is arguably the strongest warrior in the Rapture’s ranks, the sheer determination he has to overthrow the alien dictatorship has fueled him to become smarter and stronger than anyone could’ve imagined. This strength never goes to his head, however, McGruber fully trusts in his commanding officers’ instructions and would sooner turn the sword on himself than break rank.
As another day draws to a close, McGruber is overcome with mixed feelings of anxiety and excitement. He knows that tomorrow may well be his last day in existence, but he’s determined to take as many of those scaled devils down with him as he can. He makes the most of what rest he has, liftoff is scheduled at 2 hours to sun up.
McGruber awakes from his disturbed slumber, alongside his comrades. There’s a tension in the air, the atmosphere is silent and heavy as every member of the underground alliance is thinking about the launch and the consequent days to follow. Doubt plagues the minds of some, but not the warriors, there simply isn’t room. They know that this may well be the last good chance the earth has left, they have to make this count. The final countdown is fast approaching, the craft has been fueled and the warriors have equipped their battle vestments, black robes covered in a thick yet weightless steel plate. The plate has proven to be bulletproof, but they won’t be tested by any bullets, simply the intensely sharp claws and teeth of the vicious Raptors. As well as the robes, the warriors are donning a modern take on the samurai’s kabuto. It’s hoped that these masks will once more strike fear into the hearts of their opponents, though this is a belief that few share. Instead, the majority of the men wear the kabuto as a symbol of the earth’s resilience in the face of adversity and a reminder of a much simpler time.
The warriors can now be seen marching towards their ship, McGruber is in the second row of men. As they pass their scientific counterparts each man bows their heads as a sign of gratitude and respect, knowing that this may well be the last time they ever see the brave fighters again. McGruber’s face, like that of his fellow warriors, is devoid of all emotion. The kabuto shows only anger. One by one they board the craft, the only sound that can be heard is the regimented noise of boots on the cold, hard floor. As the last man enters the ship and the door is sealed behind him likewise the last onlooker leaves the bunker, being sure to cover up any signs that any human life exists down in the confines of their shelter. Every man onboard the craft straps in. They begin launch procedures.
Quick as a flash, the ship rockets out of the bunker at incredible speed yet remarkable silence. The engineers had built a decent stealth craft. The nose is pointed firmly at the mothership, directly above Geneva, the bay doors of which opened for 10 minutes every morning to seemingly rotate Raptor’s on the ground. McGruber is beginning to feel the strain, he is being pushed into his seat with such furious force that his backplate has begun to warp and threatens to buckle. He prays it maintains its shape. Due to the sheer pace of the shuttle the mothership is closing in fast, it can’t be more than 3 minutes away now. The occupants all know that this is it. This is the moment they’ve trained for all their lives. McGruber begins to chant. “Hoo-rah, hoo-rah, hoo-rah”. He can barely breath, none of warriors can, yet they all follow suit. The chant slowly picks up volume, becoming louder and louder, until they rival the engines, the craft is deafeningly loud. Then just as quickly as the chanting started, it stops. There was an obscene explosion. The craft starts to drop to one side.
The pilots inform the brave soldiers that they’ve lost the use of one of the two engines. They can maintain flight with just one but it will slow progress and effect maneuverability. The craft once more descends into silence.
The mothership is now in sight. The pilot tells one of the officers that their window to make it inside the bay doors is closing quickly, they’re going to have to go in hot. McGruber braces.
As the pilot had forewarned, the bay doors were beginning to close. Though no one would admit it, everyone said a short, silent prayer. The doors are nearly closed now. The left engine screeches and hisses as it’s powered to full thrust in an attempt to make it through the gates in one piece. The distance ticks down. 2000m... 1500m... 1000m... 500m... The gap is closing fast! McGruber takes one quick look forward and braces.
Once more, McGruber is overcome by the sound of a huge bang and metal scratching on metal. The craft has made it, but barely. The rear wing is demolished and the craft will not be flying again any time soon. The troops take a few seconds to gather themselves before the realisation of where they are kicks in. The senior officer screams “Raptures, move out!” and the doors are busted open. Every man floods out of the craft and forms rank, they’ve practiced for this moment thousands of times underground, though they’ve never practiced whilst being critiqued by the piercing stare of a living Raptor before, let alone a small army of them. They were attracted in by the deafening screeches of the shuttle crash landing. There must be roughly 500 of them, all regimented according to rank. The psychologists in the bunker had explained how highly organised the Raptors were. It seems that they adorn their battle scars like trophies, wearing them with intense pride. The two species stare each other down, just a couple hundred meters separating them. Neither side seems to be close to cracking first. McGruber tightly grasps katana stands tall. Seconds pass that seem like hours. Finally, the Rapture senior officer explodes with a bellowing roar “Kill ‘em all!”. The warriors advance in unison at a terrific pace, followed shortly after by the Raptors. The gap between the two is quickly diminishing, they’re moments away from clashing. McGruber grasps at his side and pulls out a glass bottle, as do a dozen more warriors alongside him. Again, the senior officer commands “Unleash hell!”, as a barrage of bottles fly overhead and smash just in front of the Raptors. Upon hitting the ground, the bottles explode into an intense torrent of flames. The intention of throwing the bottles has become clear, the Raptors are being forced into a bottleneck.
The first sounds of katanas clashing with claws can be heard. McGruber once more firmly grasps his hilt and screams out as he sweeps the blade across the face of a Raptor, the edge initially glances off the foe’s chitin but then finds purchase and slices clean through the beast’s neck. The arms and claws lose their purpose as the Raptor’s body suddenly falls limp and crashes to the ground. McGruber’s ears are filled with the sounds of enemy claws crashing against ally chest plates and friendly blades shattering foe scales. One by one the samurai fell the raptors, cleaving them apart. A small few humans have also fallen in battle, but the human deaths pale in comparison to that of the aliens.
As the last enemy falls a tremendous war cry is unleashed. The humans have no time to celebrate though, they must get to the command centre to stop any Raptor broadcasting and to find out who’s in charge of this armada.
McGruber is in the frontline of the offensive as they bust through door after door. Disposing of any and all who oppose them. Their armor is becoming heavy but fueled by pure hatred they march on. As they fight their way through another room McGruber notices an excessively large door off the beaten path. He can feel it, this is finally the room they’ve been looking for. He cries out “That’s it!” and points with the tip of his katana. His senior officer glances at the path and announces “Onwards!” as the army marches towards their fate. The entrance is kicked open, revealing 1 beaten up Raptor in what finally seems to be the control centre. The Raptor appears to be talking into a console as the warriors march onto him and swiftly slay him. It’s over, the ship is theirs. Everyone utters a sigh of relief as the realisation sets in that with the mothership down the rest of the Raptor fleet will surely follow. This is the beginning of Earth’s redemption. The warriors cheer, they accomplished what was incredibly doubtful could be done.
The air of calm is suddenly broken. The console crackles. A voice can be heard “... Did you really think we would make it so easy for you?...”.
le fin.
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