Chapter One: A Day To Remember

"The secret of the Paratrooper's success can be summed up in three words; comradeship, esprit de corps & efficiency."

- Major Rudolf Böhmler, Commanding Officer I./Fallschirmjäger Regiment 3, 1944

AUGUST 17TH 2017, 1800 HOURS, YOKOTA AIR BASE, FUSSA TOKYO, JAPAN

The tarmac at Yokota Air Base was buzzing with life, the sun was beginning to set and the twilight sky had a nice orange glow to it. The hum and roar of various aircraft as they rolled across taxiways, either returning or taking off, did little to dissuade the group of men marching towards the rear of a C-17 ready to be loaded up. Laden with equipment they might have looked a little ridiculous to the casual observer, practically waddling their way into the aircraft, but all of it was necessary. To their left there was a mighty roar as another one of the massive aircraft took off into the sky, a few men turning their heads to watch. They'd be right after it in a moment.

Specialist Jacob Forrestal was one such man, snapping his head back into place as he waddled up the ramp and into the belly of the monstrous aircraft. In front of him was a sea of green and brown as his fellow soldiers in their OCP camouflage uniforms took their places. There were two rows of seats in the aircraft, the outboard side along the wall, and the inboard side which was in the direct center. When the man in front of him stopped and took his seat, Forrestal did the same.

"So, we gonna' teach the Japs what's what, or what bro?" A voice asked from next to Forrestal as he took his seat.

"Fuck yeah, brother." Forrestal said, sticking his fist out.

It was promptly bumped in response as the man next to him took his seat. Private First Class Oliver Kimber had been with Forrestal for the better part of a year and a half now, and the two were inseparable.

Eventually the loading process had finished, not that it had taken long, and all the men were seated. Forrestal and Kimber watched as the rear loading ramp was brought up and closed, Forrestal pulled off his helmet and laid it across his front as the door shut with an audible clunk, locking into place.

Eventually they could feel it as the aircraft started it's engines, a loud whine turning into a dull roar. The C-17 began to roll it's way across the tarmac, once it was in position it came to a halt. The pilots waited for their clearance to take off from the ATC and when it was finally received they went to work. Every soldier in the plane could feel as the aircraft picked up speed, faster and faster and faster, eventually the nose began to rise, the plane tilting back. And in an instant, they were airborne.

"Hey pretty boy, do my makeup for me." Forrestal nudged Kimber with his elbow as he produced a small metal case.

"Sure thing, dickhead." Kimber shoved his elbow into his side as he took the case from him, opening it up. There were a few swatches of colored grease paint and a mirror built into the lid. "You think we're gonna end up getting our asses blown away in the dark by the Japs?" He asked as he dipped two of his fingers into the green and rubbed them around.

"Better fucking not." Forrestal said as he turned his head for Kimber to start applying the paint. "I ain't never worked with the Japanese before, but I heard things bro."

"Yeah me too bro, that's why I'm fuckin' bringin' it up." Kimber said as he smeared some of the green across Forrestal's face.

"These First Airborne fuckers are supposed to be pretty top notch, so we should hopefully be dealing with a decent level of competency."

"You'd fuckin' hope bruh." Kimber said, applying another streak of green. "I heard these JGSDF fuckers ain't the-"

"Lock that down." A voice interrupted Kimber as a large African American man was making his way up the aisle.

"Yes, Staff Sergeant." Kimber responded immediately, continuing to apply paint to Forrestal's face.

Staff Sergeant Germaine Falkner, squad leader. A large and imposing man, native to Wyoming. He was as serious as he was caring, and the men in the platoon knew this well. Best not to get on his bad side.

"The Japanese are our allies, PFC. We are here to forge interoperability and cohesion with their airborne troops. If you believe they are inadequate at what they do, we are here to rectify that. You personally are here to rectify that."

"Yes, Staff Sergeant." Kimber nodded, he didn't want to make it any worse for himself.

"How about you, Specialist. Do you have any profound opinions on our Japanese allies?" Falkner had switched his attention to Forrestal.

"No, Staff Sergeant." Forrestal shook his head as Kimber went back to applying grease paint.

"I didn't think so. It'd be in both of your interests to get used to them. You know how long we're here."

"Yes, Staff Sergeant." The pair replied in unison as Falkner stalked off up the aisle.

After watching him walk off, and most certainly out of earshot, the bitching started.

"Bruh, I didn't realise Staff Sergeant had such a hard on for the Japs."

"Relax, Ollie. Don't get your ass smoked."

"Yeah, I hear ya' bro. Not worth it." Kimber added some streaks of black to Forrestal's face before pulling his hand away. "All done, get me." He said, handing the paint case over.

"You got it." Forrestal said, taking it and getting to work. They'd need to settle in for the flight just a little longer.

AUGUST 17TH 2017, 1815 HOURS, AKIHABARA, TOKYO, JAPAN

Akihabara was rife with activity, especially at this time in the evening. Shoppers and tourists flitted from store to store, carrying their hauls with them. The nonstop onslaught of advertising blasting them from all angles, every inch of every building covered in some neon sign, using cute images and cartoon girls to try and grab the attention of any and all who saw them.

Among this crowd was one Itami Yōji, a seemingly average Japanese man in his early to mid thirties. Nothing really made him stick out, average height, average build, plain clothes, plain haircut, plain face. The only thing really remarkable about him at the moment would be the two massive shopping bags he carried in each hand, filled to the brim with DVDs and Manga.

One might find it hard to believe, but this very same Itami Yōji, carrying bags laden with loot only fit for what one would call an 'Otaku', was a Second Lieutenant in the JGSDF. A Ranger qualified Second Lieutenant in the JGSDF no less. None of that really mattered to him though. If you asked him, he'd tell you:

"I work to support my hobby, you know. So if you asked me which I'd choose, my job or my hobby, my hobby takes priority."

Itami weaved his way through the crowds masterfully, protecting his possessions with calculated movements. He had been granted three days of leave, and he intended to spend them to the fullest. A shopping spree in Akihabara was the perfect use of day one, and an excellent segue into day two.

Tomorrow was a Doujinshi convention, and some of his favorite circles were going to be there. Another great way to blow a paycheck, buying new releases straight from the source, maybe even getting them signed. He couldn't wait, the thought of it made him feel excited from head to toe. Much more giddy than a man his age should feel about most things, let alone this.

But Itami didn't care what anyone else thought really, his hobby was his hobby, and it was what he enjoyed, that's all that mattered to him. The perk to receiving a Second Lieutenant's paycheck was he could spend it how he pleased.

As Itami made his way to the train station so he could head on home, a thought did briefly cross his mind. A unit from the 1st Battalion was participating in a live fire airborne exercise tonight, if he had heard correctly, and while Itami could really care less about training exercises, cross training with American soldiers was different.

Not that he was envious of missing out on some kind of unique training experience, he wasn't, but live fire exercises with an allied army were a very clear escalation of things. And if there was one thing Itami didn't like, it was escalation. Politics had become very heated in the past year or so, between the amendment to Article 9 of the constitution, the Chinese pushing hard for control over the Senkaku Islands, and now the North Koreans firing missiles over Hokkaido, it really would be an inconvenience to Itami if things escalated further. There was a convention in a month, and he knew for a fact one of his favorite Mangakas was going to be there, he'd really hate to have to miss it all because of something silly like a war.

The truth was, if there was one thing Itami had excelled at during his time in service it was his fantastic ability to avoid trouble at all costs. He had only passed officer training second to last because the person below him failed due to an injury. He got through his Ranger qualifications only because he was able to keep his head down and avoid the wrath of the instructors.

Itami had faith though, there'd been other times in his military career with other seemingly close calls. None had ever really happened, and he was thankful. He could continue to enjoy his hobby in peace.

As the train pulled into the station and Itami boarded, all the thoughts of work, politics, and war slipped out of his head. They were irrelevant. He had a big day planned tomorrow, and instead his mind wandered off, back to thinking of all the different things he'd be able to buy tomorrow. It was going to be great.

AUGUST 17TH 2017, 1845 HOURS, APPROACHING AIRSPACE ABOVE DZ NARASHINO, CHIBA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

"Alright gentlemen, listen up!" Came a yell, the voice was demanding and commanded the attention of every man on the plane. Captain Walker was the Commanding Officer of Delta Company. Everything from his haircut to his square jaw proudly announced that he was a military man. "Before we step off, I want to reinforce some things. This is a live fire exercise boys, so mind your p's and q's. I don't want any incidents because someone didn't check their target. Especially not since we're here to assist the Japanese."

There was a pause of silence as the lights in the cabin turned off, being replaced with red lights that washed over the waiting soldiers. It was time. Soldiers began to pull on their helmets and affix them with straps.

"That being said, I have nothing but full faith in the professionalism with which you will all execute your duty. We will teach our Japanese allies how real Paratroopers fight. The 'All American' way, hooah?"

"Hooah!" Came a chorus of cries from every soldier on the plane.

"Outboard personnel, stand up!" The Jumpmasters yelled, waving their hands upward.

"Outboard personnel, stand up!" Forrestal and Kimber yelled in unison with everyone on the outboard side as they got up. After pushing their seats back up into the wall of the plane they automatically began to check the man in front of them, a last minute safety check to make sure everything looked good. Forrestal quickly ran his hands up and down the soldier in front of him's parachute, everything looked good. At the same time Kimber was doing the same for him.

"Okay!" Forrestal yelled, patting the soldier's shoulder and giving him a thumbs up. Kimber did the same for him.

"All okay Jumpmaster!" Someone up the line yelled.

"Inboard personnel, stand up!" The Jumpmasters yelled once more, waving their hands upward.

"Inboard personnel, stand up!" Came a chorus of replies. The process was repeated for all the soldiers on the inboard side. Checking their equipment and making sure all was right.

After a few moments of silence they received the command they were all waiting for.

"Hook up!" The Jumpmasters yelled, bringing their arms up and down.

"Hook up!" Every soldier repeated. Forrestal reached up and grabbed a hold of the line above his head, bringing it down a bit so he could attach his yellow cord to it. Every soldier did the same, a series of satisfying clicks as each cord connected with the line.

The low hum of the engines from inside the aircraft was suddenly replaced with a deafening roar as the side doors were unlocked and pushed up by the aircrew. After this the jump platforms were pushed down, providing a small space just outside the door for footing. The aircrew then checked the door for any obstructions that might present a safety hazard to the exiting troopers.

"Here we fuckin' go!" Kimber yelled out.

At the front of the line, a young Lieutenant received the thumbs up from the aircrew to perform his own check. He waddled forward, handing his cord off to the jumpmaster as he ran his hands along the edge of the door. He took a knee and swept along the bottom edge, all seemed well.

Second Lieutenant Alex Diaz got back up on his feet and grabbed on to the edge of the doors, leaning out and peering into the inky blackness of the night as the sun had almost fully disappeared over the horizon. Satisfied, he took a step back and gave a look over his shoulder at the soldier who had been standing in line behind him. He then gave the Jumpmaster a thumbs up.

"You good, Griffin?!" He yelled to the soldier.

"All good here, sir!" Came the response.

The light above the door changed from red to yellow.

"Two minutes, standby!" The Jumpmaster yelled.

A silence swept over the aircraft, none of the soldiers talked. The only noise was the roar of the C-17 Globemaster's jet engines. Corporal James Griffin was directed forward towards the door, handing his cord to the Jumpmaster. He grabbed on to the door edges and waited. After a few moments of silence passed, which felt like hours, he heard what he'd been waiting for.

"Green light, go go go!" The jumpmaster yelled, Griffin felt a smack on the back of his helmet at the same time. He waddled forward and out the door, slipping into the dark of the night.

Behind him the line of soldiers did the same. Filing forward and handing their cords off to the Jumpmaster on the way out. It was a well rehearsed routine that they'd been through many times before tonight.

Forrestal waddled his way forward, following the soldier in front of him. As they approached the door the whine and roar of the engines only grew more deafening. He didn't mind though, no, he found the noise of the engine quite comforting personally. It meant the aircraft was working perfectly fine. Which in his book, was the best kind of aircraft to jump out of. In his own words:

"Better to jump out of a perfectly good aircraft which will be steady than an aircraft that's going down."

Forrestal watched as the man in front of him waddled out the door, disappearing into the darkness. It was his turn. He didn't hesitate. To hesitate upon exiting the aircraft might mean soldiers behind him would miss the DZ, and he'd be held accountable. Besides, they'd just kick you out of the plane anyway.

He handed his cord off to the Jumpmaster as quickly as possible before hugging his hands to his chest and waddled out the door. He let out a yell, not that it could be heard over the roar of the engines as he was violently thrown sideways for a moment, all the while counting in his head.

"1,000, 2,000, 3,000, 4,000…"

There was a violent shock as he felt his parachute automatically open, he looked up to confirm. There it was, his silk had unfolded perfectly. He kicked his legs a bit to straighten himself out, grabbing onto his risers. Afterwards he looked around instinctively, and although he couldn't see much, he was fairly certain no one was going to fly into him. Above him he could see the C-17 flying off into the distance, it's navigation lights on. In other directions he could see other aircraft heading the same way, some more C-17s and most certainly a few Kawasaki C-1s.

Silence began to overtake the air around Forrestal as the aircraft faded into the distance. The only noise was the wind smacking him in the face as he descended. He looked down towards the ground to see if he could spot the DZ.

Prior to his chalk arriving other aircraft would have already passed overhead dropping off Japanese and American pathfinders to set up the DZ for their respective units, along with this their supplies and vehicles would have also already been dropped beforehand and were waiting on the ground to be unpacked.

After looking for a few moments he spotted it, a set of flares demarcating where they should be aiming for. Not that there was much steering capability with the T-11 parachute system in the first place. But Forrestal would do his best regardless. He pulled on his left riser, in an attempt to influence the parachute, kicking his feet at the same time to turn himself. It was a semi-successful effort, and he'd take what he got.

He was against the wind, which was slowing him down, but the ground was still approaching fast. The rate of descent with the T-11 parachute system was roughly eight meters a second, if you were to land improperly you could easily break something.

Faster and faster the ground was approaching, Forrestal reached down and prepared to unhook his kit bag. He waited for just the right moment and then… click. He undid the harness, and the bag tumbled from its position over his groin, tumbling down towards the Earth before it ran out of line.

A few moments later and his bag had made contact with the ground, he was next. It was difficult to see in the dark, so close to the ground, but he knew it was coming. Forrestal prepared himself to perform a PFL. His knees bent slightly on instinct, and with a violent shock he had finally met the ground. The balls of his feet were the first point of contact, after which he rolled onto his side. His hand shot up to the release on his harness, he'd have to undo it quickly if he didn't want to get dragged away by his parachute.

Forrestal pushed himself up onto one knee quickly, and had a look up. He wasn't able to see much, but he had to make sure no one was about to fall right on him. It didn't appear so, which was great news for him.

He released the reserve chute from his chest, allowing it to flop onto the ground. If this were a normal training drop, Forrestal would have to gather up his main chute and pack it up for collection. Thankfully this wasn't a normal training drop, they were training for combat conditions here. So he could leave his parachute behind for collection later.

After this he released the weapons case from under his left arm and promptly ripped the velcro open, allowing him to retrieve his rifle from inside.

"Friendlies coming up on your six." A voice said softly.

Forrestal could hear the group coming into position behind them as he grabbed his ruck and fumbled it open in the dark. Someone provided him with a low-visibility light as he retrieved his AN/PVS-14. He removed the tape covering his mount on his helmet that covered the sharp edges so they didn't sever his cord when he jumped. He attached the AN/PVS-14 into place and then promptly pulled it down so he could see.

After his eyes adjusted within a few moments, he could see that with him was a group of about four soldiers, lead by Staff Sergeant Falkner.

"All set?" The Staff Sergeant asked.

"Yes, Staff Sergeant." Forrestal replied with a nod as he brought his M4 up to his shoulder.

"Let's get rolling then, we're pushing up to RV with the Lieutenant."

As Forrestal put his ruck on, the group of soldiers moved like a well oiled machine, Forrestal fell into the rear as they moved past him. The Narashino maneuvering grounds were a relatively flat area of land. It didn't take long before the Rally point came into view.

Nearby, the flares that had demarcated the DZ were buried into the dirt, removing the light source. Some soldiers were working on getting a HMMWV detached from an airborne pallet. Others were carrying crates over towards where the Lieutenant and Platoon Sergeant were gathering men.

The crates were placed on the ground and opened up, they contained the IOTV vests for the paratroopers that was dropped with the Pathfinders. You could only drop with so much weight, and while the IOTV could be worn during a jump, it would have to have no pouches attached, which would mean having to sit around attaching those, something they didn't have time for.

"Gear up, boys." Lieutenant Diaz ordered as the IOTVs were distributed. "We've got ten mikes before we need to start moving out."

Forrestal removed his ruck, and placed his rifle on the ground as one of the vests was handed to him. He slipped it on as quickly as he could, fixing it into place. As he grabbed his ruck off the ground there was a loud series of pops in the distance, someone off to their left was already engaging targets. As he started to fill the pouches of his IOTV with magazines Lieutenant Diaz began to brief his squad leaders.

"Alright." Lieutenant Diaz started. He was shining a low visibility flashlight onto a map so they could better read it. The RTO, Griffin, was busy coordinating with the other Platoons next to the Lieutenant. "Platoon's breaking down into it's respective sections. Falkner, your boys are moving up here. Take your Humvees, engage any hostile targets, and dig in. Bravo section will dig in to your direct North, and we'll be behind you to the East. We'll be here all night so make sure you get comfortable."

"Sir, where are the Japanese?" Falkner asked, looking at the map. Marking one of his own.

"The Japanese should have dropped somewhere around… here." Lieutenant Diaz pointed to the map for a moment before then pointing off in a direction. "They'll be digging in to our South. Ballista will be further up to our North, past Bravo. Cutlass will be with the Japanese to the South. We're forming the center of this."

"Copy that." Falkner nodded, making a final mark on his map.

"Any further questions?" Lieutenant Diaz asked.

The other squad leader, Staff Sergeant John D'Ambrosio spoke up. "Any word on the kind of resistance we should be expecting throughout the night?"

"Not a clue, D'Ambrosio. Stay alert until daybreak, we're supposed to be getting relieved by Japanese armor." The Lieutenant started to fold up his map as the Platoon Sergeant came up behind him, taking a knee. "Alright gentlemen, break it up and get mounted, we have a long night ahead of us."

"Forrestal!" Falkner yelled out, getting Forrestal's attention.

"Staff Sergeant?"

"You're with Kimber, Moreau, and Martinez, mount up!" Falkner then turned his attention to other men in the squad. "Perry! Take Vasquez, Brown, and Hoffman! The rest of you three with me!"

"Martinez?" Forrestal said slightly confused, he knew who Moreau was, didn't talk to him much. But he didn't know a Martinez.

"Yo bro, come on." Kimber had come up next to him, taking a knee.

"You're my driver, alright?" Forrestal said as they got up, moving towards the Humvees that had been unpacked from their pallets.

"You know it." Kimber said as he went around, he had already slipped his ruck off.

Airborne Humvees were slightly different from what many were used to seeing in the news. With the War on Terror and the widespread use of IEDs the Humvee had become relatively unrecognizable to when it was first introduced in the 1980s. To effectively fight in the tight urban corridors of Iraq, where any piece of trash could explode at a moment's notice, pounds and pounds of armor had been strapped to Humvees in an attempt to increase survivability, the turrets on top went from having a simple gun shield, to full 360 degrees of armored protection, ballistic glass windows included.

The problem for the airborne was, it was already a pretty tricky operation dropping a Humvee from an aircraft, dropping one with hundreds of pounds of add ons on was simply a no go. Their Humvees forwent the additional armor packages, opting for the lightest weight possible. Doors were an unnecessary frivolity altogether. Seats? Besides the driver and front passenger seat, what was really necessary? Any additional passengers could make do with the flatbed in the back.

"Ready to rock n' roll?!" Kimber yelled from the driver's seat, he had put his ruck in the flatbed.

"Waitin' on the other two, standby." Forrestal replied as the two soldiers came up to the Humvee. He recognized the one, Moreau, but the one lugging the SAW around was a new face.

"You my uber?" Moreau asked.

"Fuck yeah Specs, pile in. Who's your friend?"

"This is Martinez. New guy, been with us two months, you dunno him?" Moreau said, he clambered into the back of the Humvee.

"Great a fuckin' boot." Forrestal let out a sigh. He watched as the short hispanic followed Moreau's example, clambering into the back, he had yet to say a single word. Forrestal pushed his ruck into the back of the flatbed.

"Lead vehicle's gettin' a move on, we ready to roll?" Kimber asked.

"Fuck yeah, hit the road." Forrestal said as he slid into the front passenger's seat, resting his right leg on the frame of the door.

They watched as Staff Sergeant Falkner's Humvee began to roll forward and away, the second vehicle falling in behind him, minding their spacing. Kimber fell in behind them as they rolled and rattled across the grass. There was more pops and bangs in the distance as more targets were engaged, it was going to be a long night.

DATE UNKNOWN, 2000 HOURS, ALNUS HILL, IMPERIAL TERRITORY

On Alnus hill a grand army had been raised, one of the largest in the Empire's great history. One the likes of had not been seen since the great Arctic War so many years ago. Over one hundred thousand Imperial soldiers, cavalry, dragon riders, along with various beastmen, Orcs, Goblins, and Ogres.

This would be the force that would propel the Empire to greater heights than it had ever seen before. They were going to cross through the Gate on Alnus hill and conquer whatever may be on the other side. It was a good day. One that would be remembered in Imperial history for centuries to come. The war camps were filled with men happily waiting to head off to war.

Remus Remiliosis was an Imperial officer, a Centurion. He rode his horse between the many many rows of tents that lay just beyond the base of Alnus hill, it would be disrespectful to set up one's living area on the holy ground of Alnus, his Centuria would be one of the first to cross the Gate tomorrow morning.

He had finally arrived at his destination, the tent of his superior Primus Pilus Maron Mal Macaron. He had called his Centurions together to speak with them before they entered battle. Remus dismounted his horse, a nearby soldier took the reigns, leading his horse away.

As Remus pushed the tent flaps open, he was met with a merry sight. All around there was drink and laughter, for what he had been dreading would be a strategic meeting, it did not appear to be at all.

"If it is not Remus Remiliosis, come in, come in!" He was waved in by many a pair of hands, a few cheers of greeting as well.

"With all of you here, my faithful Centurions." Maron Mal Macaron had stood up. "We may begin. Tomorrow is the most important day in the Empires history, and we shall be an undoubtedly important part of that." He waved his drink, causing an uproar of cheers.

Remus took his seat at the table as a drink was passed to him, he grabbed hold of the wooden cup and knocked it back, gulping down the frothy liquid inside as the Centurion next to him slapped a hand onto his shoulder.

"I can proudly say I lead the best Cohort in Count Formal's legion." Maron Mal Macaron continued. "So tonight, drink, laugh, and be merry. For tomorrow, we begin the conquest of a new land."

A cheer rose up among the Centurions once more, tonight was their night, and tomorrow would be their day. Throughout the camp of the Imperial Army similar celebrations were taking place. Drinking, dancing, music. Tomorrow they'd be on the war path, claiming glory in the name of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus.

As Remus drank with his fellow Centurions, he laughed, and felt happy with the rest of them. But something weighed on his mind. Something did not feel right. While he was most certainly a faithful soldier of the Empire, and he would never question the Emperor's will. He couldn't help but feel that whatever may lay on the other side of the Gate may not be something that was intended to be trifled with. Alnus hill was a holy place, and many of the races present on the continent of Falmart credited Alnus hill with their creation. If such legends were to be believed, what otherworldly force could lay beyond the Gate.

Of course, after Remus downed his third cup of mead, he let such thoughts slip from his mind. He would allow himself to become drunk, and not let such worries bother him for long. Such affairs could be left for tomorrow.

AUGUST 17TH 2017, 2300 HOURS, NARASHINO MANEUVERING GROUNDS, JGSDF CAMP NARASHINO, CHIBA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

All was quiet. Too quiet. Hours had passed since the soldiers of Dagger Platoon had taken position. Fighting holes had been dug, weapons systems set up, men put on watch. The harassing enemy 'attacks' which were supposed to occur… never came. That didn't stop them from being on edge though.

"Ollie, you got anything out there?" Forrestal asked aloud, he had been looking through his M68 CCO optic for the better part of a half hour now.

"Negative." Came the response from the other side of the small ditch they'd created.

In the center, Martinez and Moreau were similarly scanning for targets. Martinez still hadn't spoken a word. There was a series of pops and bangs to their left once more, for what was probably the fiftieth time that night. It was the general consensus among the group that the Japanese were firing their weapons into the night at nothing at this point.

"Hey, boot." Forrestal finally said after a moment, breaking the silence that had set in after the gunfire had finished. He nudged Martinez with his foot at the same time. He simply turned his head to look at him in response. "You fuckin' slow or something?"

There was another pause of silence before a response was finally achieved. "No."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, it talks." Kimber could be heard to say from the other side. It was hard to say if he was happy or disappointed

"More than he's said to me in the past week." Moreau spoke up.

"What's your deal, kid?" Forrestal didn't take his eyes off his optic. Quite frankly his eyes were starting to hurt.

"Don't talk much." He replied simply, in a low monotone voice.

"Yeah well fuckin' change that. We've been in this hole for what? Fuckin' like, I dunno, five hours? Fuckin' say somethin' dude."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, where the fuck's your weird ass from?" Kimber piped in.

"Albuquerque."

"No shit, huh? You speak Spanish?"

"No."

"Fuckin' hell, alright. Don't get too enthusiastic." Kimber let out some air in a mock sigh.

"It's a start." Forrestal said, pulling his face back, he got a good look at him.

Martinez was a short and stocky kid, couldn't have been taller than 5'6". Smooth and baby faced, one could hardly believe he was 19. He definitely had an odd look about him. But hey, this was the Army. This is where all the weirdos from any walk of life went, Martinez was most certainly not the strangest creature to ever don the uniform.

"Well. Anyway. That bleach blonde Cali-fucker at the other end of the trench is Ollie. He's gonna want you to call him Hang Ten because he think's he's hot shit at surfing. But you're gonna call him Ollie because Hang Ten is one of the gayest things you've ever heard, hooah?"

"Hooah." Martinez replied in his usual tone of voice.

"Fuck you." Came a response from Kimber.

"You've been rollin' with Specs for a while, so you'll know him as the loser with the glasses who spends all his time with his face buried in a fucking screen. I think that one's pretty self-explanatory."

"Hey, fuckin' look man, if Doc'll call me Hang Ten, why can't you fuckin' assholes." Kimber interrupted.

"Oh my fucking God. Because it's the gayest fucking thing ever and Doc is indulging you because he can't bring himself to fucking tell you it's gay."

"Fuck you."

"What about you?" Martinez spoke up, attempting to stop a pointless argument from breaking out.

"You'll call me Forrestal and we'll keep it at that."

Martinez responded with a nod as he adjusted the SAW, he took a look through his optic. Still nothing.

"So, what're we gonna call him then?" Kimber spoke up.

"Who, me?" Martinez asked, looking over. His voice seemed to leave it's monotone state for a moment.

"Yes, you, boot."

"I'm thinking Mouse." Forrestal said matter of factly.

"I like it." Moreau nodded.

"Mouse?" Martinez turned his head around towards Forrestal now. "Why Mouse?"

"You make about as much noise as one, and you're basically the same size."

"Fuck you." Martinez responded.

"That's the spirit." Kimber encouraged him. "The trick is we all hate Forrestal."

"You fuckin' love me you fruity fucking bastard." Forrestal said as he placed his M4 down next to him in the trench. "Let's start sleeping in shifts, even if we don't get any contact tonight, Japanese armor is gonna be rolling up on us in the morning. Mouse you're up first, wake me up at 0100 and I'll relieve you. Don't fall asleep." Forrestal said as he slid over onto his back and lowered himself down a little further into their makeshift trench. He pushed up his AN/PVS-14 mount, the dark overtook his eyesight as it had become adjusted to the night vison, he couldn't see a thing.

"I ain't gonna fuckin' fall asleep, I wasn't born yesterday." Martinez complained.

"I know, but I'm not gettin' my ass smoked because of you."

"Me neither." Kimber added, he lowered his own rifle to the ground next to him and layed on his back. Moreau followed soon after, scrunching himself into the tightest space possible, his feet braced against the opposite wall of their little hole.

The night sky above was filled with stars, with how relatively close they were to urban sprawl it was pretty remarkable that the big area of land that was the Narashino maneuvering grounds could have a view like this.

As silence swept over the lines of the men of Dagger Platoon, the cool summer night breeze picked up for but a moment before dying down once more. Forrestal allowed his heavy eyes to drift off to sleep, it was going to be a busy day tomorrow.

AUGUST 18TH 2017, 0800 HOURS, GINZA, TOKYO, JAPAN

Itami Yōji had gotten up early in the morning, the day had finally arrived. He was riding the subway to Ginza, the convention center wasn't far from there. On his phone he had one of the many fantasy styled mobile games he owned open. He had spent the better part of his train ride clearing a dungeon.

"Don't think you'll escape me so easily this time, treasure of Alduna!" Itami thought to himself as he made his move. There were a lot of mobs attacking him, but he didn't care. He could handle low level monsters like this with ease. Orcs and Goblins were low level creatures, and with Itami's gear it took no more than two attacks to dispatch any that dared attack him.

The train rumbled softly as it made it's way deeper into Tokyo. Soothing background noise as Itami continued to press forward with his challenge. The real largest threat he'd be facing today was the Kobold Knight, the dungeon boss. He was what stood between Itami and all that loot.

When Itami finally reached the final room of the dungeon, he was satisfied. He still had most of his health, and his stamina was looking pretty good. He was in a much better state than any other time he had attempted this boss fight.

He watched as the Kobold Knight was presented on his screen, summoning the mobs it would use as a means to try and slow Itami down. Not today though, Itami had a plan. He was going to try and use his rush skill to eliminate the boss in one go.

The mobs began to surround him, but it was too late, he was ready.

"The treasure of Alduna is mine, Kobold Knight, there's nothing you can do!" Itami said in his head, rather heroically.

His character began to run forward, Itami pressed the icon on his touch screen to activate his skill and… nothing. Itami tapped the icon again, still nothing. Something wasn't right. He began to furiously tap the icon, his game was most definitely not frozen, so why was it not working?

Then it hit him, Itami was washed over with a feeling of dread as he saw what was wrong. His stamina bar was draining, and fast. Something was using magic to lower it beyond the threshold he could use his skill at. He finally took notice of the pair of Battle Fairies circling his character, the blue glow coming off them. He had messed up.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, not now!" Itami yelled in his head, but it was too late. The curse of any mobile game had already taken hold of him. In the span of mere seconds it had taken him to repeatedly tap his skill icon, and for him to realise why it was not working, the big blue box appeared on his screen.

Not enough stamina. Would you like to purchase some more?

With the big microtransaction notification on his screen, Itami's fate was sealed as the mobs descended upon him. With so many of them his health bar was reduced to nothing in an instant. Long after he had managed to hit 'Cancel'.

You died.

The message taunted him, big red letters filling the screen as everything faded to black, the Kobold Knight's laughter adding insult to injury. He had been strategically outmaneuvered by the computer. Or, at least, that's what he'd like to tell himself in an attempt to ease the pain, but Itami knew it wasn't true.

"Fucking microtransactions." Itami cursed under his breath as he pressed the lock screen button on his phone.

As he looked up he could see he was getting a few weird looks from the people on the train, and the thought crossed Itami's mind for a moment that maybe he hadn't just been thinking all the things he said to himself. Maybe he had absentmindedly been saying them aloud, after all, he did think he had a pretty good fantasy hero voice.

No matter though, his stop was here, and he could exit the train without further making a spectacle of himself to the public. Not that he particularly cared anyway. He was enjoying himself on his day off and that was all that mattered.

Itami stepped off the train and into the station at Ginza. It was a beautiful August day. Many people were already out and about, getting ready to do their shopping. Itami was ready to join them, though, his shopping would seem much more unconventional in comparison.

As he walked through the station he felt his phone buzz. He looked down at the black screen as it came to life with color, he had received a notification about the convention.

"Oh no way, a last minute booking! That circle's going to be there now? That's amazing.."

He allowed himself to become fully distracted, absent mindedly walking along and looking at the phone screen. Apparently he had missed a few other notifications while he was playing his game too.

Itami was getting more and more excited about the convention, it was going to be great. He hoped he was carrying enough money on him, but decided that, if he didn't have enough to buy everything he wanted, he wouldn't really mind tapping into the savings in his bank account. This was what was most important after all.

"I wonder if they're going to have the new Mei-Co-" Itami was abruptly cut off as he felt a terrible stinging pain in his head, at the same time he could feel himself be knocked off balance. There was no stopping it, he was going backwards, right onto his rear. Just before he impacted with the ground Itami caught glimpse of what had happened.

He had walked right into a pole.

There was another shrap pain as Itami hit the floor, ass first. It traveled up his spine, and then into the base of his neck, he had definitely hit his tailbone. But that wasn't all, he was still going. Itami's legs went up into the air as he continued to fall backwards, the back of his head smacking right into the floor.

Everything was a blur, Itami was seeing stars… well, not stars.

He was definitely seeing something?

He wasn't sure what it was though.

A girl? There was a forest all around. She appeared to be playing some kind of instrument, he couldn't tell what it was exactly though. Then he noticed the most peculiar thing about her, aside from her absolutely gorgeous blonde hair, it was… her ears. Her ears were long and pointed.

"An elf…?" Itami could feel himself reaching his hands for his face, but couldn't see them. He tried to rub his eyes and everything went dark for a moment. When he took his hands away from his face the scene had changed.

He was in front of a waterfall, which was pouring some of the clearest and most beautiful water Itami had ever laid his eyes upon, in a manner of speaking at least, none of this was real obviously. Here too he could see another girl, much shorter than the one in his last vision, but she appeared to be wielding magic of some kind. At least, that's what Itami would call it, she had a long wooden staff raised and was levitating several small objects.

"Mage..?" Itami's head was really hurting, he could feel the pounding intensifying as each wave of pain washed over him. Was he dying? He really hoped not. It'd probably be one of the most embarrassing ways he could die, smashing his skull into the floor after walking headfirst into a support beam.

He wanted to push himself up, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could feel his hands pushing against the cold tile floor of the train station, but still his sight would not return to him. He felt a pair of hands grabbing him, but could see no one. He sucked in air as he felt another wave of pain come and go, his head ached badly. He raised an arm to grab his forhead, and as it made contact he was once again taken to another scene.

This time it was dark, the other two scenes had been relatively colorful and vibrant. Quite happy looking in fact. This one was different however, much different. Itami had no idea if he was physically in any of these scenes he was visiting, but he sure hoped not. Standing before him was a third girl, and in her hands was an axe, the size of which was far larger than one Itami would have ever handled before in his life. He wanted to call it a Halberd, like one wielded by a medieval infantryman, or a low level grunt in an RPG. But it was very clearly something else entirely.

The girl had an almost sinister smile on her face as she began to twirl the weapon with great speed, much more than should be possible with a weapon of that size. Her attire was what really got Itami's attention though. Black and red, with lots of frills, and a bow atop her head. Just what was going on? Having spun the weapon around a few more times, the girl leaped into the air, illuminated by the full moon behind her for a moment before disappearing over the edge of the plateau they were standing on.

"A...gothic loli...WHAT?!"

Itami suddenly shot upright. He could see again. Around him stood a very concerned looking crowd of commuters.

"Sir, are you alright?" A man kneeling next to him asked. He was holding onto Itami's shoulders.

"Oh… uh, yeah, yes I am. Thank you." Itami replied, somewhat embarrassed.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" The man asked, holding up a selection of fingers on his right hand.

"Three." Itami replied, thankfully it seemed he was still in possession of his cognitive abilities.

The man looked relieved, his face relaxed and he let out a sigh. "Be more careful friend, you should watch your step, rather than bury your face in your phone all the time."

"Haha, yes, I will." Itami laughed. The crowd had begun to disperse, the show was over.

The man helped Itami up to his feet, and Itami was back on his way.

While this wasn't exactly how Itami had planned he'd be starting what was possibly his best vacation day ever, he didn't mind. At least it would make it memorable, and there was no lasting harm. The pain in his head had already subsided. Itami did decide however, maybe he should take a break from fantasy games for a while. If they were that far at the forefront of his mind that he was having visions of NPC game girls when he was knocked out, maybe there was such a thing as too much of a good thing.

Itami placed his phone into his pocket and continued walking through Ginza station, making his way towards the exit that would allow him to have the shortest walk to the convention center. Something had begun to feel sort of… off however.

The large bustling crowds that were in the station not minutes prior had seemingly thinned out. Itami realised it was a weekday, and a little early in the morning. But this was ridiculous. And while the convention center was really the only thing of importance in this direction, the fact that there weren't swarms of Otaku was even more dumbfounding, something Itami just couldn't buy.

"More loot for me." He decided in his head however. Shorter lines were fine by him, and he'd have prime selection at any of the stalls if there were less people.

But then it started.

First it was a scream, causing Itami to look up.

That was odd.

Then another, and another, the yelling and screaming was getting louder and louder.

What was going on?

Even people in the station had begun to scream and yell. Which confused Itami, he couldn't… hear anything out of the ordinary before the screaming started? What was going on? He saw a young couple ahead of him, their faces pressed up against the window. The woman appeared absolutely terrified as her partner held her close.

It was then Itami realised just what it was they were looking at.

Something streaked across the sky, it was fast, like a blur. He couldn't catch a good glimpse of it. Suddenly there was another, and another, and another. All blitzing past his field of view from the window.

"Was that…?"

There was a moment of silence, nothing happened. And then… it came back into view. There was no mistaking what that was, the image had been engraved into Itami's mind for a long long time.

That was a dragon.

A real dragon.

There was more than one, and they were flying all around, darting between the buildings. Itami couldn't believe his eyes. The thought briefly crossed his mind that maybe he had hit his head too hard. But, if this was all in his head, then why was everyone else screaming and yelling?

"No…" Itami said in a low voice as he backed up a few steps from the window.

"No, no, no…" He had turned his body and was making his way towards the station exit, faster and faster, picking up speed as he started to break out into a jog, turning into a run, and then a sprint.

"NO, NO, NO! THIS ISN'T GOOD!" Itami yelled as he burst through the station doors. The world outside was chaos. Absolute chaos. He looked up, and he could see what he had feared. More and more dragons flying everywhere. Not only that but there were large black plumes of smoke rising into the sky in every direction he looked. Screaming, yelling, the sounds of police and other emergency service sirens blaring from all around.

"NOT GOOD! NOT GOOD AT ALL!" Itami took off running again. This was real. There was no denying that. He practically jumped over a railing as he got into the street. There were crowds of people running every which way as Dragons, which he could now see had men riding atop them, swooped in low. Their riders using spears they were wielding to attack people.

"IF I DON'T GET THERE SOON THE EXPO IS GOING TO BE CANCELLED!" Itami yelled as he vaulted over another railing.

Fifteen minutes earlier...

DATE UNKNOWN, 0745 HOURS, ALNUS HILL, IMPERIAL TERRITORY

The Army of the Empire marched in formation up Alnus hill towards the Gate. The Auxiliaries were at the front. The Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, and Beastmen. Close behind them was Count Formal's legion. It was finally time.

The brave Dragon Riders had been the first to head into the Gate. They would be acting as reconnaissance and as a shock force against any hostile forces waiting on the other side of the Gate.

As Remus Remiliosis watched the Auxilaries step into the unknown, with his own men not far behind, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He had wanted to be an Imperial soldier since he was but a young boy. This wasn't his first campaign in the name of the Empire, but it would most certainly be his most important. It was his time to carve out a piece of history for himself.

"Steady, Remus Remiliosis." Said a voice as a horse rode up next to his own.

It was Maron Mal Macaron.

"Of course, sir." Remus responded, he was holding his ornate helmet tucked between his left arm and his torso. "It is with great pride I will lead my men into battle today."

"Of course." Maron nodded. "Then the time has come. Let us partake in our share of the glory."

Remus had been so lost in thought he had not noticed that the Gate was upon them now, they were entering.

It was a mystical feeling as they crossed the threshold. The morning sunlight that had washed over them not minutes prior was replaced by a cool blue, as if it was the night. The Army kept it's formation, remarkably, as there was nothing to guide them once they were inside the Gate except for the dim light that lined the floor.

Remus looked around in awe at the beauty and splendor of the Gate's nothing. An abyss that stared deep into his very soul. Maron Mal Macaron gave him a smile and a nod before taking off further up the line to check on another Centurion.

Remus's men marched faithfully behind him all the while.

As Remus put his helmet on, he rode on in silence. Soon they would be on the other side, and whatever awaited them, they would be upon it.

Minutes passed. Minutes of deafening silence. The lights of the floor danced along all the while.

But soon, Remus noticed, there was a light that was far greater. One to his front. An exit?

His suspicions were confirmed as the light got brighter and closer. Sunlight.

Soon the ground beneath his horse was replaced with a strange material he had never seen before. It was a sickening black. And then… awe struck wonder.

As Remus rode out into the sunlight, as far as he could see were massive structures that stretched into the very heavens themselves. Made not of stone and marble, but seemingly glass and mirrors. All along the ground before him, no more was there dirt or cobble, it had all been replaced by this black material. Volcanic stone perhaps? No, it had no shine, but then what?

The Auxiliaries had already formed their ranks, taking up the space to the front. Behind them Remus could see Count Formal and Maron Mal Macaron atop their horses. Remus raised his sword, ordering his Centuria forward and to form a shield wall.

Beyond the front of the Auxiliaries he could see plain as day, people. Humans. Definitely humans.

They were… different however. All of them had skin that was somewhat pale looking, and dark colors of hair to boot. Remus had never seen humans like this before. On top of that the way they were dressed was absolutely the most strange thing he had ever seen. Not a single one of the males was clad in any sort of armor at all. Simply strange cloth garments. The women as well were simply bizarre. Were some of them wearing trousers? What was this? Not a single one of any of the people that lay before them appeared to be warriors at all.

All of them simply stared, unmoving, as more and more Legionaries poured through the Gate behind Remus.

"Fight." Remus thought.

The Auxillaries were growing restless, it did not appear they would hold formation much longer. Still, not a single one of these strange people would move, they simple continued to stare at the Army.

"Run." Remus was confused.

An Immunes came up next to Count Formal carrying a horn, waiting for the go ahead.

"Do something, you fools." Remus grew angry. Were they stupid? Did they want to die?

Count Formal raised his sword and the Immunes blew into his horn.

The slaughter was upon them.

The Auxillaries rushed forth, brandishing all sorts of terrible weaponry. Swords, hammers, axes, some with impressive physical strength used just their bare hands.

Remus watched as an Ogre ripped a man in two.

The screaming began as the crowds of people began to scatter in every which way. Not that it would help.

Dragon Riders began to swoop down to skewer them as they attempted to flee.

A woman was trampled under foot as two Orcs charged down a group of people.

"So be it." Remus thought to himself. "Such cowardice will not go unpunished." He raised his sword and gave a mighty yell. His Centura charged, others doing the same. The battle had begun.

As Remus charged forward on his horse, slicing a fleeing man across his back, he smiled. This Imperial conquest would be an easy one. A day to be remembered in the Empire's history for a thousand years, and he would be part of it.

AUGUST 18TH 2017, 0830 HOURS, NARASHINO MANEUVERING GROUNDS, JGSDF CAMP NARASHINO, CHIBA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

For the men of Dagger Platoon it had been a boring morning. As boring as it could be when you were tailing after a unit of Japanese Type 90 tanks that was. But still pretty boring. The Japanese armor had arrived at around 0600 hours, and began conducting fire and maneuver exercises.

The Japanese and American paratroopers would advance with the tanks every time they pushed up. That was how it had gone at first at least. Now they were just watching the tanks as they cleared out a section of the field in front of them. They had been for the last half hour at least.

Kimber was sitting relaxed in the driver's seat of the Humvee, waiting desperately for the order to advance. He had begun to half sing half hum to the tune of "You're The Best" by Joe Esposito, alternating between the two. Slamming his hands down on the steering wheel as he did so.

Forrestal in the meantime had both of his legs hanging outside the doorframe of the passenger's side. His M4 was held across his lap by his right hand, and had his left hand resting on the Humvee's radio transceiver. He watched absentmindedly as the Japanese tanks moved, covering each other as they did so, turrets swiveling around to look for incoming threats.

To the rear of the vehicle Martinez was standing up, resting the M249 on the roof of the driver's cabin. All things considered he appeared to be having a good time. While no more enthusiastic looking than he usually was, he had expressed his interest in this being his first time working with tanks. Even if they had been sitting here for nearly half an hour now, he didn't seem to mind.

Finally there was Moreau, he was slumped over in the rear. At a quick glance you might think he was catching some more sleep, but no, he wasn't. No, Moreau, ever the genius, had managed to bring his DS with him. Buried somewhere deep in his Ruck no doubt he had taken the time to carefully hide it. Unprofessional? Sure. Did anyone really blame him? No. The rest of the men in the Humvee were quite content to leave him that way. At least he had something to do in these moments of nothing.

"Fight 'till you drop! Never stop!" Kimber yelled from his seat, bobbing his head. "Until you reach the top!"

Something was changing though, it wasn't very noticeable at first, Martinez was the first to pick up on it.

"Forrestal, the tanks stopped." Martinez said as he let go of the weapon, shifting to his right slightly to lean over the side of the vehicle.

"I haven't gotten anything about advancing to meet them yet." Came the reply, Forrestal was looking up at the blue sky.

"They've been stopped for a while now."

"So what, Mouse?" Moreau interjected, his chin buried down in his vest as he focused on his screen.

"Is that really going to stick?" Martinez asked, he almost sounded dissapointed.

"Yes." Came a chorus of replies from three distinct voices.

Martinez sighed. "Whatever, I dunno man. They're not moving."

"So what? Just relax, bro." Kimber replied. He got out of the drivers side, walking around the side of the Humvee. His M4 was hanging in it's sling across his chest. He grabbed onto one of the wooden slats running up the side of the Humvee which acted as a rail for the flatbed. "Gimmie' an energy bar, will ya'?"

Moreau put his DS down for a moment, grabbing the ruck next to him and pulling it over. He opened it up and fished through one of the pockets for a moment. Finally finding what he was looking for, he pulled one out. "Heads up." He said tossing it towards Kimber.

It missed, hitting against the inside wall. Kimber pulled himself a little further up, grabbing another wooden slat, allowing himself to lean over the rail and pick the energy bar off the floor of the vehicle. He then slipped over the side, having retrieved his snack.

"How do you eat those things?" Forrestal called out. "I can't stand them."

"What? Come on bro. It's Soldier Fuel, SOF approved." Kimber said in a mock tone of voice as he slid back into the driver's seat, ripping the wrapper open. He took a bite out of the bar, making sure to make lots of exaggerated 'Mmm' noises.

Suddenly there was a very loud noise that caused every soldier in the Humvee to pause and look.

Engines.

Tank engines.

Tank engines getting into high speed.

The Japanese Type 90s had suddenly formed up and were hauling proverbial ass to the West.

"Whoa. Hey! Where the fuck are they going?!" Kimber yelled out.

"Incoming!" Martinez yelled, the first time they had heard him do so. Which was definitely cause for alarm.

It took a few moments for them to see what he was referring to, a flight of four JGSDF AH-1S Cobras was coming in low, also travelling West. They looked armed to the teeth.

"The fuck's going on?!" Moreau asked, he had pushed himself up to his feet and was staring up as the helicopters flew past.

"Getting on the horn with Falkner now, stand by." Forrestal said as he picked up the radio transceiver. "Dagger 2-1, This is Dagger 2-3. Come in, over?"

There was a moment of silence before a reply came. "Dagger 2-3, this is Dagger 2-1. Send traffic, over."

"Dagger 2-1, Interrogative, did you just see what we saw? Over."

Another pause of silence before a reply. "Dagger 2-3, Affirmative. Dagger 2-1 Actual is currently trying to get a hold of Dagger Actual. Wait five, out."

Forrestal put the radio transceiver down, the word would come down soon. "Falkner's trying to get a hold of the LT to find out what's going on, we'll see what happens!" He yelled out.

"Copy that." Moreau replied, he sat back down in the flatbed of the Humvee.

"What do you think's going on?" Kimber asked as he was finishing up his Soldier Fuel.

"Not a fucking clue, bro." Forrestal brought both of his legs into the Humvee, resting his right foot on the doorframe.

The silence was deafening while they waited for word back. Seconds seemed to take hours, minutes years. The tension in the air just grew thicker and thicker. Kimber started to rap his hands against the steering wheel to a beat he made up in his head.

After a few minutes passed the radio crackled to life.

"All Dagger units this net. This is Dagger Actual. Mount up and proceed West to the Nihondaigaku Gate, we have orders from Halberd Actual. We will be forming a convoy on the Narita Highway and begin heading West towards Tokyo. More details to follow, radio check and standby. Over."

"Dagger Actual, Dagger 1-2. We're Oscar Mike. Over."

"Ah shit, what the fuck's going on?" Kimber asked as he started the Humvee up.

"Dagger Actual. Dagger 1-3. We have you loud and clear, we're Oscar Mike. Over." The radio traffic continued.

"Not a fucking clue." Forrestal then poked his head out of the doorframe. "Hey you two, get ready, we're moving out!" He yelled back to Moreau and Martinez.

"Dagger Actual, this is Dagger 2-1. Wilco. We're Oscar Mike. Over."

Martinez grabbed his M249 from on top of the cab and got down into the flatbed.

"Dagger Actual. Dagger 2-2. Oscar Mike. Over."

Dagger 2-1 and Dagger 2-2 sped past, Kimber started to pull after them as Forrestal got on the radio.

"Dagger Actual, Dagger 2-3. We're Oscar Mike. Over." Forrestal said into the transceiver as they started bumping across the grass.

The remaining section of the platoon went through their radio procedures, and they were all on the move for the Nihondaigaku Gate at the West of the maneuvering grounds. The only noise for the longest time was the roar of the engine and the sound of the suspension doing it's best to work with the terrain.

Eventually some more Humvees came into view on their left hand side. They started to pull in close. Forrestal pointed across Kimber's chest. "Cutlass is coming up on our nine. Watch it."

"Copy." Kimber nodded, he was deadly serious. All of his attention set on driving.

"All Dagger Units this net. This is Dagger Actual." The radio crackled to life once more. "Alright gentlemen. Tokyo is under attack. Orders from Halberd Actual are that we'll be following the highway all the way to Tokyo with the Japanese. Our mission is to secure the U.S Embassy and then help the Japanese set up a defensive line. Break."

The net suddenly exploded with activity as everyone began trying to talk at once.

"Tokyo is under attack?! What the fuck?!" Kimber yelled out.

"Fucking hell." Forrestal slammed his fist against the door frame.

Dagger Actual keyed his mic a few times, the radio traffic died down.

"Gentlemen, I'm as surprised as you to be hearing this. But we have a mission. Arguing over the net is not going to help us accomplish that mission. Over."

"Dagger Actual, Dagger 3-1. Interrogative. Enemy force size? Over."

"Dagger 3-1, Dagger Actual. Will provide updates as information comes through. Wait two, out."

"Jesus fucking Christ dude, what the fuck's going on? You think it was the Chinese?" Kimber said.

"Not a fucking clue."

Eventually Ballista had linked up with the other two Platoons and they were making their way onto the highway. The long line of Humvees speeding as fast as they could behind their Japanese counterparts.

"All Dagger Units this net. Dagger Actual" The radio crackled to life once more. "Halberd Actual confirms to me that current estimated enemy force size is above 100,000. Over."

"WHAT?!"

Moreau poked his head into the cabin from the rear. "I'm sorry, did he just say what I think he said?"

Forrestal picked up his transceiver mic before the net exploded with activity again. "Dagger Actual, Dagger 2-3. Interrogative. Is it the Chinese? Over."

"Negative 2-3." He received a reply instantly. "Halberd Actual confirms to me that enemy force composition appears to be… otherworldly in nature. Over."

"Say again, Actual? Otherworldly?" Dagger 1-3 cut in.

"Affirmative, 1-3. As far as command knows, at approximately 0800 hours local time, a Gate appeared suddenly in Ginza district Tokyo. Hostile forces have exited through this Gate into Tokyo and are currently wreaking havoc across the city. Civilian casualties are high."

"Dagger Actual, Dagger 2-1." Falkner entered the conversation. "Interrogative. What are we dealing with? Over."

"Dagger 2-1, Dagger Actual. Hostile forces consists nearly entirely of infantry and horse mounted cavalry. Reports are coming in of hostile air forces also present, riding dragons."

"Bruh what?! This is bullshit! Fucking dragons?!" Kimber yelled as they continued to speed down the highway. They were starting to see large black plumes of smoke filling the sky in the distance. Traffic was picking up too as it seemed many were fleeing the city.

Forrestal was shocked into silence.

"Gentlemen. Listen up," Lieutenant Diaz began. "I can tell what you're thinking, I'm thinking the same thing. We are about to head into a city full of a numerically superior enemy force, and are being asked to repel that numerically superior enemy force. But let me remind you, gentlemen. We are Airborne. Paratroopers. Fighting numerically superior enemy forces is what we do best. If I remember correctly there is no time when a Paratrooper is more happy than when he's surrounded by the enemy. There are Americans in there that need our help. Not only that, there are Japanese Civilians in there that need our help. These assholes are slaughtering them indiscriminately, I don't know about all of you, but that doesn't fly with me. We're going to get in there, and we're going to teach these fuckers that they messed with the wrong city, the wrong country, and most importantly the wrong fucking world, and we're going to do it the 'All American' way, hooah?"

All the radios seemed to key in at the same time.

"Hooah!"

"That's what I like to hear boys, you wanted to show the Japanese how real Paratroopers fight. Let's show them. Actual Out."

Any sense of fear that might have possessed the soldiers in the Humvee quickly melted away.

A new feeling began to swell up in it's place. Slowly at first, but then quickly, more violently.

Rage. Anger. Hatred.

It wasn't just in Forrestal's Humvee either. It wasn't even limited to Dagger Platoon. All across Delta Company, as they made their way towards Tokyo, the men were worked up into a frenzy.

Seeing the rising smoke coming from Tokyo as they got closer and closer did nothing to help dissuade their rage either.

Whoever these assholes were, the ones from beyond the Gate, the ones currently slaughtering their way across Tokyo?

They had kicked a hornets nest.

And as military assets, both Japanese and American poured in from all directions in the area surrounding Tokyo, the invaders did not realise it yet, but they most certainly had initiated what would go down as the most famous day in the Empire's history.

Thus, the men of Delta Company, 2nd Battalion, 325th Infantry Regiment would fight there. In Tokyo, and beyond.