36 Devastation

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This generation had never seen war.

Despite all the media they might have consumed, where films dramatised battles fought over beliefs and novels romanticised heroes sacrificed for patriotism, nothing could compare to the events unravelling before their eyes right at this moment.

Captain Calypse leaped off the vehicle and stepped onto soft, glutinous mud. The black earth was mixed with slush, as it had been snowing the past few days on higher altitudes of Balto mountains. Riftan shook the mucky texture stuck in his tactical boots but kept his eyes forward. Taking in the scene before him, he was almost stupefied by the unexpected intensity. The air reeked of char. Wild fire was raging everywhere; savouring every surface with its flames and torching every entity standing in its way. The ground laid with soldiers; men screaming from infernos using their flesh as fuels, or motionless black bodies twisted in shapes evident of their final agonies.

Riftan swallowed hard trying to process the conflagration. He had planned for this beforehand, coming up with permutations of possible scenarios in case something messed up. However, no amount of exposure or training could prepare a man for the full-fledged reality of horror humans could possibly inflict upon one another.

Taking a deep inhalation in, Riftan peered up. It was supposed to be midday now. Winter in Balto meant that daytime would be shorter, but the dramatic drop in light now only foreshadowed impending danger. The sun was blocked by shadows; causing the vast mountainous landscape of northern Balto to be soaked in deep shades of ripe plums. Riftan groaned. Limited visibility was not ideal for battles, even if most of his officers wore night visors. Their morale would be affected, plagued with anxiety, fear and paranoia over potential danger lurking in the shadows.

As if his men were not frightened enough.

Just then an alarming shriek pierced through the sky, sending shivers down his spine. Like a strangled crow but way more terrifying, it was a war cry he had never heard before. The sound rallied an army of response and soon enough, the entire shadow mass became distressed like a murder of vicious crows. Cursing, Riftan immediately took out his binoculars. He adjusted its focal point to the maximum, eventually able to make out something from the moving entity. These dark clouds were formed by smaller creatures soaring above.

Wyverns.

The creatures looked exactly like what the professor had described them to be. Similar to the illustrations, these ghastly beasts seemed to have emerged from the depths of fiery hell to exact vengeance on mankind. With claws sharp enough to pierce through their armoured tanks and wings the epitome of evolution for flight and damage, it would have been a miracle for mankind to stand a chance. Their wrinkled faces resembled demonic crocodiles with mouths spewing fire and acid everywhere. It was no wonder Leon's men were struggling to bring them down despite their heavy artillery.

Quahel Leon.

He needed to coordinate with his fellow commander. Frustrated, Riftan tested out his radio but was only greeted by deafening feedback. Both radio frequencies for Leon's team and Elliot were disrupted. Communication was evidently broken between the men. A common trick; the enemies must have jammed their signals in the mountains before sneaking up on them. That way, Leon's team would have been handicapped to call for reinforcement. Moreover the raid would have surprised the soldiers, sending them into shock and confusion to react properly as they had rehearsed. It was obviously an ambush attack, the opposing soldiers significantly outnumbered them. The enemies were aware of their strategy to split up.

Somebody messed up.

Brows creasing, Riftan began to improvise his plans. He was desperate to find the professor but needed to ensure that his own team was in place to support Leon's. With a gloved hand in the air, the captain signalled to his officers awaiting for his commands. He gestured for Aren's team to join Leon and hold the defence, while the rest would join him to head towards the enemy line. He needed to find out who was commanding this attack.

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