The Ranger

So, here I am again. At the scene of the crime, as it were. I am going to tell you guys right now, this was REwriten from the ground up. I am keeping the outline the same, but everything else must be redone. Some of you may have loved it the way it was, but I think much differently from when I was sixteen. So here we are, albeit super late and completely unexpected. THE ENTIRE REWRITE OF THE FIRST 10 CHAPTERS IN ONE NIGHT! Don't worry, I've kept the super cliché opening dialog from the original write.

Also, I'm changing the title BACK to The Ranger. Also, the entire story is going to be from Abrahams perspective. This is his story, and you are all along for the ride.

So some context on why I'm redoing a DEAD story… well, it's going to be shocking to all but 17 of you, I didn't expect to see anyone reading this story almost 5 years later. This story is for you guys…

To any whom serve or have served in the Armed Forces of the USA, Thank You. Many of you are the unsung heroes in our world…

Lastly, I would like to add that in the past seven years since I posted this chapter, I still haven't joined the military. I understand that many who have joined the armed forces like to read stories that have a bit more accuracy on their world than I may be able to provide. I try to do research, but I make mistakes. If you don't like the story, I'm not forcing you to stay, but if you see potential and want to help out, then any advice will be appreciated. If you have went through Ranger training, I'd love the feedback on how your experience was like. I think it'd make the main character feel more fleshed out, and less military mumbo jumbo that I wrote him as originally.

Thank you and without further rambling, onward with the rewrite!

Chapter 1: New World

My name is Abraham, and this is the Story of Crisis. For you to understand my story, we will start at the beginning, as all stories do. Let me take you back in time, to a time where Midgar was at their peak and Soldier was something to be proud of. Let me take you back to the beginning of the end…

Perhaps one of the greatest feats one can endure, is retaining their own sanity. When you are certain that you are in a dream, but you know that you can't wake yourself from it. Almost like having jelly in your legs, or fog in your mind, but ten times worse. That is how I felt when I woke in a brand-new world. At first, I chalked it all up to a hallucination from something the Koreans did to me, but given time I felt the world was surely real.

I was currently in a foxhole, my plates pressing uncomfortably as I lay in a contorted position. My M4A1 was resting in my hands as I watched in the dark for any sight of the enemy. After training, I didn't mind being uncomfortable in situations that could be my last. In fact, I welcomed the challenge as I gripped my weapon a bit harder. I wore the dirt on my face like a badge of honor, the stubble discolored because of it.

The man next to me, Richey, was not too keen on being here. He shifted a couple times and said, "Damn, I have to piss."

I smirked and said, "You better not do that next to me, angle it away."

Richey tried his best, but the little crater we were currently calling home didn't offer much in the way of room.

As I kept watch, waiting for orders, Richey zipped his fly and asked, "What you gunna do after we rotate back to the States?"

"Probably going to ambush my kids at school, drink a whiskey. Man, can you believe she's already in 5th grade?" I asked, pulling a pic from one of my pockets.

He shook his head, but didn't say anything.

"How 'bout you?" I asked.

"Whiskey sounds good, but I'm looking to get hammered," Richey answered with a big grin on his face.

I shook my head this time at his common answer. I sighed and thought to myself about the truth of all this. We all wanted to go home, but not all of us were going to make it.

It was around this time, Sargent Reject, crawled up to us and said, "Just got word from HQ, there's gunna be a major push from the KPR."

How I reacted, for the life of me I can't remember. It's almost like that information was completely burned out of my memory; fog lingering in my mind. I couldn't tell if it had been a daydream, or a hallucination, or any of that. I wasn't on my stomach anymore, but instead was sprinting full on through some trees without my rifle. That didn't spell much in the way of good news. I tripped over some of the foliage on the ground, or perhaps a root from a tree, and sat there breathing heavily.

A voice pierced the vail of night, and the trees almost shook from the weight of the words, "So, what do we do with the captives?"

The voice wasn't Asian in accent, but instead deep and almost American.

"I say we cut their hands off, then send them out into the woods alone," A second voice answered. His was a voice the had almost a song inside of it; his had an almost regal ring to it.

"You'd commit a war crime in my presence, Genesis?" A third voice, but much calmer and softer spoke. I smiled at the thought of how he must have spoke on purpose. You'd have to really pay attention to him to hear his voice, and what's more he sounded like the C.O.

I had to get a better look at who I'd be dealing with so I crept slowly forward. That was my first mistake, and ultimately my best mistake. It was as if the planet was against me, for in that moment, a twig snipped under my weight.

I didn't hear any words spoken, and couldn't comprehend how two men were on top of me in mere seconds. I was dumbfounded, to say the least. Before me stood two behemoths of men.

The man on the left had a remarkably square jaw, and pronounced cheek bones. His hair was longer than mine, and black. He wore an all black shirt, and pants with a strange belt with suspenders. Stranger were his black pauldron armor, and an enormous surf board of a sword. What frightened me the most were his impossibly blue eyes that stayed affixed to me.

The other man was also truly impressive. He stood about three inches taller than the other, and had extremely long white hair; which wasn't attained from age either. He wore an all-black trench coat with the chest open, and white pauldron armor. His jaw, from this angle, wasn't squared but instead had a round to it. Unlike surf-n-turf, this man had a long, thin blade resting on my chest plates ready to plunge the blade right into my heart as well as Green glowing eyes to greet me.

Silver blade ordered, "Get up. Slowly." His tone was that of a man with the final word, and the blade to ensure it.

I complied, not wanting to meet death early. I'm trained to deal with bad shit, but this is ridiculous. A knife fight unarmed I can handle, but a fight with a dude six or seven feet away while the blade it touching me…

The surfer looked at my outfit and said, "What's all this then?"

I had on forest digital shirt and pants, combat boots, my body armor, and my dirt covered face. I lacked everything to actually do my job. I was, for the first time, scared. I admit that freely. I wasn't anywhere familiar, men covered insane distance with even more insane weapons, and acted casually about it.

"Abraham, 51XXXXXX (Real dog tag belonging to my grandfather. Refuse to give away full serial on it. Enjoy the 51.)" I answered stone willingly.

"Looks to be some sort of enemy combatant," Surf said to Silver.

"We probably won't get anything more out of him. Probably a mercenary hired by the Wutainese. Search him for weapons, he won't be moving," Silver ordered, tightening his grip on the blade.

Surf put the weapon slowly to his back and moved forward. As he pat me down I asked, "Wutah… What?"

"What sort of body armor is this?" Surf asked, moving from my chest to my legs.

"It's composite plating," I answered, blade resting near my neck now. The rule is speak when spoken to, right?

Once the surfer finished his pat down, he stepped back and said, "Where's your katana?"

"My what?" I replied.

The blade at my neck forced me to look upwards a little, "Answer the question," the man demanded. Before I could deliver his answer, a big fireball appeared, burning part of the trees down. I heard men running in all directions.

"Seph, they ran in different directions," The regal voice rang, sounding more irritated now.

"Angeal, stay with him," the man who answered to Seph said. He then ran through the bushes after the others. Angeal, I liked him better as surf, took his blade from his back with a quick, fluid motion.

I fell to the ground, on my knees now, and said, "This isn't happening." My eyes were completely closed now. "I'll wake up in a Korean POW camp, coming off of some drug," I said steadily.

Angeal must have felt sorry for me, for he asked me a question, "Who are you, really?"

"Corporal Abraham, United States Army Ranger. Callsign is Revelation," I responded, hoping that if I comply the hypnosis or drugs will stop.

It was Angeal's turn to say a country, but sound confused by it, "What's a United States?"

I was completely dumbfounded by that statement. How could he not know what the US was? Even our enemies knew who we are, although they usually are wrong about what we are.

Two men returned to us, the man named Seph, and another whom had red hair, a red trench coat with similar pauldron to Angeal, all black tactical gear, and a long red straight sword.

"I don't think he's entirely sane, Sephiroth," Angeal reported.

Angeal, sensing I was listening from where I knelt, walked over to Seph and whispered into his ear. Seph shrugged and said, "We will have the Hojo look at him, then."

"We're taking him to Midgar?" The fire head said.

My arms were bound by Angeal, and I was marched through the woods, without so much as a piss break. It took nearly an hour of forced march to get to a clearing. The whole way there, I thought about my mom, dad, brother, and wife and child. I would never see them again. I would get to the Korean camp, and be executed in complete confusion. Tears were rolling down my face, and fear gripped at my pounding heart. I felt that this was it.

The clearing held a small base, with a helipad. I assumed this is where my grave would be. Two men came out from the chopper, both of whom looked very intimidating.

The first was an oriental looking man in an all-black three-piece suit, white shirt, black tie. He was about 5 foot 4, with silky black hair, a very narrow face, and his eyes were slanted. In his hands, I could see a pistol of some sort. I knew I would be walked to him, and shot in the head.

The other man had broad shoulders and stood about a foot taller than the other. His hair was slicked back and jet black. He wore the same suit, albeit larger, and had a revolver sticking out from his coat.

The three man who escorted me, gave me to the two men in black and went back into the woods. One of them untied me, while the other said, "If you want to live, you wont talk at…" But I cut him off by pouncing on the little man.

A good, clean punch to his side loosened the gun from his grasp, I almost had it when a shot rang through the air. I felt it pierce my right shoulder, and I fell to my side. He put the gun against my head, and said, "You even breath the wrong way, and I'll kill you."

I was loaded onto the chopper, an hour later. Turns out, we're in a field hospital. I was stitched up, and sent out. The doc didn't even bother with anesthetic, saying it's too precious to waste on the enemy. What a dick.

When I got on the chopper and was seated in, the taller man looked into my eyes. "You have been trained?" He asked.

"I was a soldier in another place," I answered.

"I am impressed by you. We might just have a place for you, if you're interested in not dying a horrible science experiment," He said, watching me flinch at the words science experiment. I tried to close my eyes, but didn't get much in the way of sleep.

End of Chapter 1

So, feels good to be back in the saddle again. I remember a lot about what I wanted to do with the story, and it truly does my heart good to write this story again.

Rewrite: 19/02/19

Those of you wondering from my other story, I'll be updating both stories and I hope you enjoy this one as much as Nightshade.