Planet Earth- 2004 A.D. (-ish)

The human race found itself under attack by a mysterious alien swarm. UFOs darkened the sky, then set it ablaze with a fearsome and blinding light.

These beings were cruel and relentless.

Trillions fled in terror...but there was nowhere to run. Human technology was no match for the invaders' weapons. Police and military were quickly overwhelmed.

Within hours of first contact, mankind was brought to its knees, forced to surrender to eons of slavery.

In the midst of the blaze that engulfed Tokyo, two teenagers were running for their lives. One girl and one boy. Brother and sister, sprinting through the rubble, the girl carrying a watermelon, the only scrap of food they thought to bring with them as they fled their burning home. Suddenly, fierce blue lighting struck the ground, erupting with a violent explosion of white light, throwing the elder sister to the ground with a scream. "Nee-chan-!" the younger brother yelled, stopping dead in his tracks.

The sister didn't attempt to stand up, and just gasped to her brother, "Don't worry about me , just run, Fuyuki!"

"No way..." the brother stared at her incredulously. This was his sister; she didn't give up. She was the school's most favoured athelete, she ran for a hobby, she scolded him for not running enough; she did not fall and stop running.

The blood in the boy's head turned to ice as he saw an invader descend on its hoverpad. It held a ball shaped device in one green hand. And it was pointed directly at his sister.

He faintly heard his sister gasp as she saw it, "N-no...!" The alien uttered something the boy didn't quite hear, and pressed a button on its device. A shock of white light zigzagged from it, striking his sister, engulfing her in a dense, sludge-like, purple aura.

She shrieked in sheer terror and pain, reaching out to her brother as the purple smog drowned her- melted her.

"NEE-CHAN!"

Fuyuki bolted upright, gasping for air, big blue eyes stinging from beads of sweat streaming into them. The boy tried to steady his frantic breathing. "Just a nightmare...Just another nightmare..." he kept silently repeating to himself. He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against the fabric of his dusty jeans "Just a nightmare..."

He gingerly patted the ground around him. It was solid. "This is reality, then..." He stood up, brushed the dust off of his ruined clothes half-heartedly, and then looked around his improvised bedroom he had used for the night.

Just before the sun dipped under the horizon yesterday, Fuyuki had found a half destroyed shed in the remains of someone's garden. The foundations of the shed had been obliterated, so the body of the wooden shack had tipped over, like a defeated tent. He had crawled into it without really thinking; it offered a roof and a shelter from the harsh midnight cold, and he had thanked whatever gods were listening for it, despite the fact he had to sleep on the hard, rough ground. He had spent two months and four days sleeping on hard, rough, often rubble covered ground anyway, and using only his tired, old rucksack as a pillow. He sadly was used to it.

He crawled out of his cramp sleeping quarters, back into the open air. He gazed around the remains of the neighbourhood and sighed. He should have been used to seeing the world as it was now, just like he was used to crawling into dilapidated buildings to sleep, but it still twisted his heart with an incessant cold barb.

Tall buildings that had once dominated the city had been reduced to nought but big piles of rubble. Small houses had been stomped into the ground, as if they were only ant hills. Streets and roads had been churned up and the trees that once lined them had been scorched and mulched, the cars that once peppered the roads sat in crumpled messes, as if they were chewed up and spat out in disgust. The air was heavy with soot and smog and despair, as though the decimated landscape exhaled its last breath of agony and defeat. Fuyuki had no idea how many miles he had travelled in the two months and four days, but almost every street looked exactly the same as this. The great city that Tokyo had once been, thriving with industries and technology and people, was now nothing but a smudge of ruin.

Fuyuki shivered, sensing the ghost of his city curling its fingers around his bones, and then adjusted the straps of his backpack, and started walking again. "North is...that way, right? Yeah."

Days spent walking, nights spent sleeping. It was a rough structure, but it was a structure, and it kept him from losing his mind to the gnawing dread and loss and screaming rage and vengeance hungry whisperings.

Vengeance.

That word was sweet and seductive and dark and had once made his stomach coil in repulsion. But over the last two months and four days, it was not so repulsive...Ever since the day the aliens had invaded, ever since the day his sister was murdered, the word 'vengeance', had become less repulsive, and more alluring.

"Sergeant!" Corporal Giroro, a fearsome red Keronian with a face adorned with a battle scar over his eye, marched into his platoon captain's office. He took a brisk glance around the room, concluded that his sergeant was not in it, and left, "Tsk, where are you, Keroro?"

Giroro had known his platoon leader since childhood, and he still irritated him today as much as he did then. "That dolt told me he needed to speak to me- where on Keron has he got to?" The red corporal felt incredibly fractious lately. The invasion had been going for just over two months now, and they were already behind schedule. The platoon had taken over most of Asia; Japan was pretty much completely theirs after they levelled most of the capital city, China was quickly following suit, but their conquest in Europe wasn't as smooth, and they had barely scratched America yet! Hell, was Giroro going to give his 'esteemed' captain an earful.

The Keroro Platoon was stationed in their home-from-home spaceship above Japan. When they were not out pillaging and levelling cities, they were cooped up here, in their tin can with all their own personal sleeping quarters, bathrooms, a communal kitchen, and a fancy office for their sergeant. Oh, and a creepy laboratory for their creepy scientist/sergeant major, but Giroro always tried his hardest not to think about that particular place. Every wall and floor on the ship was made of shiny, clean metal, which the private of the platoon would whine often about feeling that he was trapped in a can of space prawns. Fresh new privates always whined about the conditions of the space craft.

He turned the corner of the corridor, and surprisingly came face to face with said private; a white and bluey-black tadpole with wide eyes and a mean Impact.

"Ah, Corporal-san!" the tadpole, Tamama, chirped, giving a quick salute.

"Tamama," Giroro nodded in greeting, "have you seen the Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir; Sergeant-san is in the kitchen, sir."

"Right, thanks, Private."

Giroro left briskly for the communal kitchen, grumbling a little, "He calls me to his office, and then goes to stuff his face? Argh, what is wrong with that guy these days..."

Striding into the kitchen, he saw the green sergeant studying a colourful box intently. "Sergeant," Giroro saluted, "...what have you got there?"

"O-oh, Corporal!" Keroro, a green Keronian with a star symbol on his belly and hat, and the sergeant in charge of the platoon spearheading the Pekoponian invasion, jumped up a little in surprise, "Private Tamama found it on patrol near a factory district. See the picture on the front-" he pointed to an image of a large, well equipped robot, "-it's obviously one of the Pekoponian weapons, only in a scaled down version, to demonstrate how to build it in the future! I think it's called...Gunpla..."

"It's a toy, Keroro," Giroro growled, becoming a more furious shade of red, "it's just a dumb Pekoponian toy that we do not have time to waste on! We are meant to be conducting an invasion here!"

"I-I know that, geez!" Keroro quickly snapped back, putting the 'gunpla' to one side.

"Well, act like it!" Giroro bellowed, "The way things are going, this invasion will soon be unravelling at the seams, and you're our sergeant, so you have to do something about it!"

"Fine! I will!" Keroro huffed, crossing his arms dramatically, "So what's the problem then?"

"The problem is that we haven't even started taking over mainland America, and the longer we leave it the more time they have to gather together their defences!"

"Alright, so put the conquest of Europe and Africa to one side, and focus all our strength on America," Keroro reasoned.

"We can't just put Europe on hold; we only just have a stranglehold on it at the moment, if we let it become too lax, we'll have a massive resistance on our hands," Giroro explained, trying not to let himself get too frustrated.

"Well, then, focus on smashing the resistance in Europe first!" Keroro replied, raising his voice along with his own levels of frustration.

"We can't do that until we have totally stopped the resistance in Asia first!"

"I thought we had totally stopped the resistance in Asia!"

"No, there are still pockets of Pekoponian resistance right here in the north of Japan, and just enough in the mountains in China to pose a severe problem if we ignore them while we conquer Europe!"

"Then deal with all of the resistance in Asia first!"

"We can't- if we spend too much time on the resistance in Asia, we won't have made any progress in Europe, and then when or if we ever get to America, they'll blow us out of the sky!"

"OH MY KERON, WHO TOLD THE PEKOPONIANS TO BE THIS RESISTANT TO INVADERS?" Keroro squealed, hopping up and down in sheer frustration. Then, he stopped hopping, pressed his palms against closed eyelids, sighed, and then was silent. Giroro kept his own tongue still too, as he knew his sergeant was formulating a plan, just like the smart, strategic, sly sergeant he had witness back on Keron.

"Alright..." Keroro began, confidently, "...First, we distribute our forces over the planet. We obliterate any and every scrap of Pekoponian resistance in Asia, staring with the small pockets right here in Japan. At the same time as this, we continue progressing through Europe, but at a slower pace so that we are more thorough, as well as initiating a few, but heavy, attacks on America, just to keep them scared."

"Then what...?"

"Then, after Asia is completely- completely- in our mitts, we move onto Europe with more power, to progress through that more quickly, and then after Europe and Africa, we attack America with full force."

"Hmm...It's a solid plan, but," Giroro commented, frowning, "we simply don't have the frog power to do it effectively. With just the four of us, it'll take months."

"Oh, er, right..." Keroro sweatdropped. Obviously, he didn't factor such a 'minor' detail into his 'grand' plan. "Erm...I guess we'll just have to ask headquarters to send us a few more troops...! Your brother is still in the forces, isn't he?"

Giroro sighed, "Yeah, but...No, never mind, call who you think we'll need, Sergeant."

"Ow...Ow... hurt. Feet hurt. Feet hurt!"

Fuyuki hopped painfully over to a medium sized chunk of rubble and sat down quickly. He let out a long, blissful sigh of relief as pressure was instantly relieved from his agonizingly aching feet. He awkwardly pulled off his left shoe, and let the cool evening air assault his practically screaming, socked foot. He wiggled his toes and took a moment to rest.

Unfortunately, even though his body was resting, his mind was always active, always live with the recurring images of what he has seen. His home, burning. His city, crumbling. His sister...melting. His dreams of meeting an actual alien, hell- they went to ruin pretty fast, didn't they?

He should have realized that the only reason an alien would visit Earth would be for invasion. As if he could actually befriend an alien! No...No, the Universe just is not that kind. Now, the only thoughts he had, whenever his mind wandered to the idea of him being in the same room as an alien, would be of him being killed...or killing.

Fuyuki shook his head quickly, trying to physically dislodge the idea from his skull...for now, at least. He could dream of that situation later. Now, he needed to pull his shoe back on, stand up, and continue walking.

So he did. He pulled his shoe back on, tried not to notice that a hole had appeared in the rubber, stood up, tried not to groan with the pain of movement, and continued walking through the desolate land of broken buildings, readjusting the position of his backpack once more for comfort. It wasn't dark just yet; he could probably fit in a few more hours of walking.

AN; So, ja, new fic. Going to be based more on the Japanese version of keroro, but i used Funimation's dubbed beginning because I just prefer it. It's going to be quite dark and serious, and probably slow moving. I have planned for pairings but...Spoilers ;)

Expect sporadic updates.

Please, review? *cute face