Another Worldly Summons

Chapter 97: The Depths Menace

"Mister Edgelord," said a Southeast Asian running on the ground as the shrieking sounds of jets flew over their heads. "That's cool. Are you trying to commit suicide by approaching that aircraft?" A man with an RPG-7V grinned down at the burning wreckage and ground of the city.

"Shut up," replied the person as they jumped on the craters around, finally reaching one of the barely standing two-story restaurants half demolished by missile strikes from the Annonrials.

Entering it, they were greeted by few soldiers in the foxholes, who raised their chins in acknowledgment before leading them to the back of the kitchen. There, a large underground storage room connecting to sewerage system awaited, spacious enough to accommodate a few dozen people underground, and more in the sewers.

But none of them are civilians, they are soldiers with a lot of wires, generators, batteries, and comms scattered around, in a frantic situation.

"Anti-air squadrons 6 and 15 appear to be annihilated, no survivors."

"3 and 17 have casualties, they need to be evacuated out of the city. Request a battle taxi to downtown."

"We've confirmed 13 aircrafts down - the enemies seem to be withdrawing."

Everyone is speaking in hoarse voices, frenzied and nervous at the same time. Every time an explosion happens, the underground storage trembles, and dust from the ceiling slowly grinds down as some soldiers jerk in nervous surprise about the sudden explosion. Knowing that if the restaurant they're in were to be attacked, it would immediately turn ugly for anyone above. While they might have a good degree of protection, it's still a nerve-wracking experience that a few meters above them, any chance of an attack could spell doom upon them.

After one of the persons at the location gazed at the newcomers, he immediately asked, "Who are you? Unit?" straightforwardly.

"Sgt. Fergus, sir, 40th Supply Unit, 685th Infantry Division, Southeast Asian Expeditionary Force." He saluted the person who appeared to be in charge.

"So, what do you want? You're from 40th supply unit? We can't contact them in the eastern section," the person asked in response.

"We got hit by Annonrial attacks, the place collapsed. Half of us survived, but a dozen of my men are presently catering to Muish civilians. Muish soldiers are too busy firefighting or rescuing others under the rubble of destroyed buildings. Our warrant officer, Lt. Madrigal, was KIA, sir."

"You're next in line?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your supplies of missiles for MANPADs?"

"We lost them," said Sgt. Fergus bitterly.

"That's now awkward," said the officer as he grabbed the radio on his side and began to put in the frequency. "Wait for a moment."

"Yes, sir."

Soon, someone picked up on the other side of the line. "Yes? How's the SITREP of the ammo dumps I requested earlier? Yeah? Is it confirmed? All of them?" The officer bit his lips. "Okay," he said and immediately put the radio down. "Including yours, there's a total of 3 ammo dumps lost, 4 remaining. That backfired real bad. Fuck," he said to Sgt. Fergus.

The anticipation of conflict brewing, the Southeast Asian soldiers scattered redundant ammo dumps in the area to guarantee that if one of them, in the midst of fighting in the city, was destroyed, there would be another one to resupply the men. These means were strategically placed around, making them difficult for the enemies to reach if the combat situation worsened, and in some cases, they might, the defenders, found it unreachable too.