Grimoires and Gunsmoke

It was the 6th of February, 202X, seven months after the Ohio incident - an event that would be etched in the annals of history as a turning point for humanity. Once oblivious to the existence of other realms, the world was violently awakened by the rift that opened in the lands of Cambridge, Ohio. From this tear in reality, dragons, once thought to be the mere fabric of legend, poured forth, bringing armies and a tide of monstrous creatures with them.

The initial chaos was overwhelming. These creatures of myth and nightmare descended upon the Earth, igniting suburbs and initiating a desperate struggle to prevent their advance. The United States Armed Forces, in an unprecedented display of tenacity and valor, managed to hold off these invaders, preventing them from reaching major cities and causing untold devastation. This valiant defense, however, was just the beginning of a much larger conflict.

In response to this extraordinary threat, for the second time in history, Article 5 of the NATO treaty was invoked, marking a historic and unprecedented response. This call to arms saw the largest military buildup of Allied forces since the days of World War II. It turned what was once the small, humble town of Cambridge, Ohio, into a monolithic and monstrous military base. The original landscape of this quiet country town was replaced with a sprawling expanse of tents, barracks, runways, and armaments.

Soldiers, tanks, aircraft, and state-of-the-art military technology from across the globe convened here, all maneuvering in the countryside in preparation for what many knew, deep down, what was to come. As strategists and military leaders from NATO member states, alongside their counterparts from non-NATO nations, gathered to plan and coordinate, the word counteroffensive was on the tongue of every service member regardless of their rank.

But beyond the visible bustle of the sprawling military bases, a different facet of this conflict unfolds in secrecy and precision. Special Operations forces, comprising highly trained and elite units, operated on the fringes of known territories. Their missions, shrouded in the utmost confidentiality, were pivotal to the broader strategy of the allied forces.

And under cover of night, these clandestine forces convened en masse at a predesignated staging area, preparing for deployment. Some were checking their equipment while Helicopters with their rotors already spinning, waited patiently while casting tempestuous whirlwinds that whipped through the assembly area, stirring up dust and debris.

Other operators busied themselves around a fleet of light-skinned, all-terrain vehicles of varying sizes bristling with mounted machine guns, automatic grenade launchers, and other heavy weaponry.

“God fucking damn piece of shit…!” Elijah cursed ineligible under his breath as he did his best to secure another large ammo box full of .50 Caliber rounds to the roof of a Ground Mobility Vehicle (GMV)

The GMV was already heavily laden with equipment, so the task of securing additional gear was quite the challenge. Every inch of space was utilized, with jerry cans of fuel and water strapped tightly against the sides.

“It’s like they’re expecting us to engage an entire fucking army or something.” Bennett groaned over the vibrating hum of the idling engine as he sat in the driver seat.

Elijah glanced over at the other three GMVs, their configurations slightly varying but equally imposing. Two of them sported the latest MK47 grenade launchers, their sleek, deadly forms rested menacingly on top of the turret. The third GMV, however, was something to behold. It was equipped with a M134 Minigun and its multiple barrels promising a veritable wall of bullets.

As he finished securing the ammo box, Elijah's attention was drawn to Coleman, who was engaged in a lively discussion with a group of SEALs. Their gestures and nods indicated a rather serious discussion about the upcoming operation and every so often, they would point towards a heavily modified Chinook helicopter, belonging to the elite 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR).

“What do you think they’re talkin’ about?” Elijah asked, resting his arms and head on top of the M2 .50 Caliber machine gun as it pointed harmlessly towards the sky.

Bennet turned his head and squinted. “I dunno, probably something about sucking dicks or some shit.”

Nodding in agreement, Elijah rubbed his beard in contemplation. “I see, I see…” He replied with a smirk. “That certainly makes sense since SEALs are ‘seamen.’”

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Elijah cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. He took a deep breath and then shouted across the staging area, "Hey Mack, stop sucking so many dicks and you wouldn't need army guys to help you!"

His voice carried across the staging area, loud enough to turn a few heads. The SEALs and Coleman paused in their discussion, looking over in Elijah's direction. A mix of amusement and mock indignation played across their faces, as the SEAL Elijah was talking to simply held up a middle finger in retaliation and went back to his discussion.

The members of the ODA team, who had been paying attention to the spectacle, couldn't help but chuckle at Elijah's random outburst. Even some of the SEALs jabbed mack in the side and started poking fun.

With his equipment snuggly secured, Elijah ducked down from the turret with a smirk on his face at his handiwork and turned around to double check his gear. As he rifled through his equipment, he turned his head towards his Medpack and froze as his eyes landed on a sight that was both familiar and headache-inducing. There, lounging casually on top of his things, was a small fairy with one leg crossed over the other while nonchalantly munching on a cookie.

“Oh no…” Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The fairy, Yanaiyániuoa, or Yana as she was often called, looked up at Elijah with a gleam in her eyes and hummed contentedly as her wings fluttered slightly. "Human food is just… absolutely divine," she exclaimed with an enthusiastic chirp. "I don't know how you manage to make something so simple taste so good!"

Taken aback by her sudden appearance, Elijah finally dropped his hand and shook his head. "Yana, what are you doing here?” he asked, completely exasperated.

Yana giggled, swinging her legs back and forth. "Oh, you know, just popping in to see what my favorite mortal is doing," she said, taking another comically large bite.

“Shouldn’t you be doing…” Elijah waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the sprawling base, “whatever it is you do with your new servants or whatever?”

An irritated look spread across the fairy’s face as she lifted an eyebrow and turned to her apostle. “Eh?” She grunted before finishing her cookie.” Why would I waste my time with them when all they do is… train or… study or whatever it is mortals do to not be useless.” Her gaze flitted across the bustling base, then settled back on him. “Plus, whatever YOU do is vastly more interesting.”

The man knew that Yana's presence was going to complicate things by an order of magnitude. Coupled with the fact that the little goddess was both loud and aloof, made her presence all but certain to end in disaster for their more quiet and clandestine operations.

Elijah couldn’t help but put his head in his hands and muttered, "God, Jesus, just fucking smite me already."

Unfazed by his exasperation, Yana narrowed her eyes at her Apostle. "Hey, hey! I'm your deity now, so you should be praying to me!” She chided, bouncing her foot up and down as one leg rested on the other. “Besides, I know how to be quiet while you do your weird sneaky stuff.”

Coleman suddenly hopped into the vehicle, breaking the momentary silence. "Alright, what's the word?" he asked, looking around quickly. “We good to go?”

Before Elijah could reply, Bennett immediately blurted out from the passenger seat, "The damn fairy's here."

Raising an eyebrow, Coleman turned his head to look at Yana, who just sat there nonchalantly. "Oh, fuckin’...," Coleman said dryly, pushing his fingers into his eyes. "Just what we fuckin’ need right now. A psychotic fairy."

“Hiiiii!” Yana waved cheerfully at Coleman, her playful demeanor showing no signs of waning. "Don't worry, you won't even notice me!" she proclaimed, although the twinkle in her eye suggested she might have other plans. “You people still haven’t told me what ‘fuck’ means!”

Glancing at Elijah, Coleman could help but shake his head and let out a resigned sigh. "Okay… This is gonna be a long night," he muttered under his breath.

Elijah, looking equally resigned, gave Yana a stern look. "Yana, seriously, You need to stay out of sight and, more importantly, stay quiet," he said, emphasizing each word.”I don’t want to get killed just because you’d thought it’d be funny.”

Yana scoffed and threw up her hand dramatically as if she was agreeing to something unreasonable. " Ugh, fine, fine. I'll be good." she said, crossing arms over her chest.

As the clock struck midnight, the atmosphere at the staging area turned into a hive of activity. Coleman glanced at his watch, noting the exact time as the rotors of the helicopters, both from the elite 160th SOAR and regular Army units, began to lift off in groups. Their powerful blades cut through the night air, creating a symphony of mechanical roars that signified the start of the operation.

Taking his seat in the passenger side of the GMV, Coleman adjusted the M240B machine gun mounted on the door so he could access it with ease. The weapon, a reliable mainstay of the U.S. military, was a comforting presence and with a practiced hand, he checked the feed tray and slapped the side of the gun affectionately.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road." Coleman said pushing down on his push-to-talk with his other hand.

Meanwhile, Elijah finished up his conversation with the impish Yana and clambered back up into the turret. The night air was cool against his skin as he settled into his position while his hands found their familiar places on the .50 Cal Browning M2 machine gun. With a mighty tug, he pulled back the charging handle twice and chambered a round with a satisfying clunk.

As the GMV roared to life, they joined an entire convoy of similarly equipped vehicles and the ODA team felt a mix of adrenaline and anticipation as they headed into the unknown. The territory beyond the rift was a land where the rules of engagement were that of the wild west. But one thing was certain – it was going to be one hell of a ride.

A smirk flitted across Elijah’s face as he tilted down his Night Optical Devices (NODs) and surveyed the area. The night vision equipment bathed the surroundings in a ghostly white hue and orange thermal silhouettes, revealing details that were invisible to the naked eye. He watched as the convoy began to split, each element branching off towards their respective objectives.

The Operational Detachment-Alpha (ODA) team he was a part of was tasked with a critical reconnaissance mission. Their objective was to infiltrate deep into enemy-held territory, gather intelligence on enemy dispositions, and assess the feasibility of potential infiltration routes for the upcoming counter offensive.

While the ODA team ventured towards their designated area of operation (AO), the charged atmosphere of anticipation and excitement was palpable among each member. And this was only amplified by the sudden thunderous roars that filled that night sky as AC-130J Ghostriders pierced through the rift. The notorious aircraft, renowned for their devastating firepower and endurance, flew low as they entered the new realm, escorted by several flights of F-35’s and F-15’s that were completely loaded with anti-aircraft missiles.

Once the formation was sure they were through to the other side, the team watched as the fighter escorts pulled up hard and burned, climbing high into the sky. Their aim was to establish air superiority quickly and violently to ensure the safety of the Ghostriders so in turn, the large formidable aircrafts could ensure the safety of the troops on the ground.

“They’re about to kill every-god-damn-thing.” Elijah said in admiration with a smile on his face as he looked up at the Angels of Death ascending into the heavens. “God I’m fucking jealous.”

Coleman looked over his shoulder at his medic and raised an eyebrow. “Somethin’s wrong with you, you know that?”

Elijah simply replied back with a grin. "Hey man, it’s not my fault I appreciate the art of rapid human decommissioning," he replied, his tone light but with an undercurrent of sincerity.

In their line of work, an appreciation for the grim reality of conflict was a given, and Elijah's respect for the air support's capabilities was both professional and practical.

At that moment, Yana, perched casually on the edge of Elijah's equipment pack, let out a melodic chuckle as she reached out and patted his head. "Good boy, Eli, very good boy," she cooed in a loving voice, her small hand gently patting his head. “You will make a very good apostle.”

Bennett's voice cut through the chatter from the driver's seat, his tone a mix of humor and incredulity. "Having a literal immortal deity talking about how happy she is that her human's a murder hobo is some crazy cult shit."

“Shut the fuck up, Ben.” Elijah shot back as he scanned their surroundings. “Nobody asked you.”

Yana was in the turret with Elijah when her wings fluttered with amusement before droppin down so she was upside down staring at Bennett. "Ya! Shut up, Ben!" she exclaimed, pointing at the man in a gesture of mock indignation. But then she turned back to Elijah with a genuinely curious expression on her face. “Wait, what does 'fuck' mean?" she asked innocently.

Caught off guard by the question, Elijah rotated the turret towards the treeline focused on a few orange silhouettes of animals darting away from the sound of their vehicles. "God, it’d be really damn nice if none of those weasel-bear monster things don’t run up on us." He said, completely avoiding her question.

Coleman, hearing the mention of the local fauna, chimed in. "Those things are nightmares on legs. Remember the one that snuck up on that Canadian patrol?"

As Yana playfully hung upside down in the turret, her wings flapped slightly, casting shifting shadows in the dim light of the vehicle's interior. Her inquisitive eyes were still fixed on Elijah, awaiting an explanation, but Elijah's attention had shifted entirely.

"Yeah, that was a mess," Elijah replied, his voice tinged with seriousness as he kept scanning the treeline. "Briefings and warnings can only go so far. Sometimes you just gotta learn the hard way."

Bennett, navigating the rugged terrain, focused intently on the path ahead. "What kind of psychotic environment does this have to be for a god damn grizzly and a wolverine to exist? Seriously though, it sounds like something out of a shitty video game," he commented, as they went over a rough patch of terrain.

Narrowing her eyes at Elijah, Yana decided to take a more direct approach and flitted over to the man and landed squarely on top of the feed tray of the mounted heavy machine gun. Putting her hands firmly planted on her hips, the fairy’s wings fluttered with irritation.

"Eli! You're ignoring me again!" she accused, her voice rising above the hum of the vehicle and the distant thud of helicopter rotors. "I asked you a question, and I demand an answer!"

Elijah murmured in discontentment as he looked away from the small, indignant goddess standing boldly in front of him. "Yana, we're kind of busy here, you know," Elijah tried to explain in an avoidant tone.

However, Yana seemed unswayed as her gaze narrowed further. "I’m your goddess, ya know," she stated matter-of-factly. "You should multi-task for me, ya know!"

An exhausted sigh left Elijah's mouth as he faced the persistent deity in front of him. He rubbed his forehead just knowing the unending disaster that would unfold if this diminutive menace ever found out what the word meant.

"Alright, Yana," Elijah said with a mixture of resignation and cunning in his voice. "How about this? I'll give you another one of those cookies you like so much if you... let's say... 'gracefully shut the fuck up’ for the rest of the ride. Deal?"

The offer seemed to catch Yana off guard. Her eyes lit up at the mention of cookies, a known weakness of hers. For a moment, she appeared to weigh her options, the desire for the sweet treat battling her inclination to be heard.

After a brief pause, she nodded enthusiastically, her wings fluttering with excitement. "Deal! But it better be a good cookie, Eli. I have high standards now!"

“Jesus Christ…” Coleman shook his head in disbelief. The surrealness of the situation was not lost on him. "I shoulda just got a regular ass job like a normal person," he muttered under his breath, as he adjusted the M240B that was mounted to his door and scanned his sector.

A strange silence then fell over the vehicle as it crossed the threshold of the rift. The world on the other side was a stark contrast to the one they had just left. The familiar scenery of Ohio was replaced by a landscape that was both alien and beautiful. Towering trees with otherworldly purple leaves, bizarre rock formations that hummed with mystical energy, and a sky that shimmered with unfamiliar constellations.

The transition from their world to this alien realm was not just a physical shift, but also a temporal one. As the ODA team ventured deeper into this new world, they noticed the abrupt change in the skyline. Despite leaving at midnight, they were greeted with a soft orange glow along the horizon, signaling the sun had just set, and night was swiftly taking over.

Bennett peered into the fading light, his night optical devices amplifying the dimming twilight and taking in the strange, ethereal light that danced in the stars. "The sun's just set here," he murmured, his voice low. "We’re gonna be some nasty ass jet lag."

But those thoughts were soon dispelled as their small convoy continued on their path. Their very first way point was approaching fast and the first phase of the plan was going to soon come to fruition.

They were to hunker down in a predesignated area and wait for the swarm of Rangers and their air support to execute their part of the operation. The plan was straightforward: while the Rangers and their accompanying air assets, including the AC-130s and F-35’s, engaged key enemy positions, the ODA team would use the ensuing chaos as a cover to slip behind enemy lines undetected.

It was a sledgehammer like strategy, but the Rangers were known to be the military's sharpest blunt object.

As the convoy came to a stop at their waypoint, the team checked and rechecked their gear, ensuring a rapid transition from travel to combat readiness should the worst come to pass. They had trained nearly every day for this operation and they were going to leave absolutely nothing to chance.

No reason to rush to your death.

But as they finished their checks, the distant dull thuds of heavy ordinance finally reached them. Looking off into the distance at the intermittent orange glows, the team knew it was just about time for them to get a move on and be the dagger that would be at this army’s back.