Strange (Keith x Altean!Reader)

*• [0]

The war raged on. It was gruesome, despicable, and horrifying to all those who watched and participated. Altean Pilots and ground fighters fought fiercely against those of the Galran army. Dead bodies littered the surface of Altea, staining its beautiful soil with the horrid gore. Too much Altean blood had been spilled. Too many had died. Those who remained were beginning to lose hope, despair creeping into their minds as they watched their comrades die. The Galra were pushing forward; no matter how many ships were destroyed, a fleet replaced every one that was lost. Altea was losing the fight. They fought valiantly, but those of the planet were despondent.

All except for one general.

Me.

I had the highest stature in all of Altea, aside from royalty, of course- the highest ranking and most influential officer in the Altean army. At 19 years old, I had somehow accomplished a ridiculous amount. I worked hard to get where I am- and it seemed now that it was paying off.

I plowed through the Galran foot forces, slicing through them without hesitation; blood had splattered on my body (luckily only on the armor, and in small amounts) and decorated the floor in its entirety. Knives graced either of my hands, and stuck out from my armored boots. I wore half of a tunic, only the chest piece gracing my upper half. My stomach was revealed, but wrapped two strips of adhesive, where throwing knives and various daggers were stored. I had three on each of my thighs, as well, and two stored on both of my boots (one on the outside, the other on the inside). Knee pads, elbow pads, shorts, boots, and an upper chest piece were the only armor I wore. They were the only armor I needed.

The Galran ground troops were trying to invade the castle and reach the royals, but I refused to let them. Whenever they came, which was usually in large groups, I knocked them down within seconds. I threw knives seemingly endlessly, retrieving them from corpses as I kicked or impaled the enemies. Two of my best officers fought valiantly by my sides, taking down those who went to either side of me, while I fought off the majority.

"General (y/n)!" A voice shouted. A young Altean boy, who looked about my age, panted as he exited the castle doors behind me. I turned to face him. "The King- ah, look out!"

I whirled around, finding a Galran soldier with his sword raised above me. I scoffed, throwing a jab at his stomach. He coughed, loosing the commitment in his blow. I grabbed his head in my hands, throwing it down to my knee, where it made contact with a sickening crack. I kicked directly in his genitalia, sending him backward as he fell to the ground, clutching his crotch as blood began to spill from his head.

I glanced at my officers, who nodded at me, then continued to fight, I smiled to myself as I turned to face the boy once again. He stared in awe, gawking at how I had so easily taken him out in a matter of seconds. I sternly addressed him, taking off my smile and returning to war-mode.

"You said something regarding King Alfor?"

"Y-Yes, General, sir! I-I mean ma'am! General, ma'am!" He stuttered out, and I glared at him. He held a gun shakily in his arms.

"Spit it out, kid!" I demanded, grabbing the gun and pointing it behind me. I let out ten shots, then glance behind me. Nine Galran men had fallen to the floor, while a tenth clutched his arm with one hand, holding his gun with his other. He pointed it shakily at me.

I grabbed a knife from my torso, turning and throwing it. It impaled him directly in the forehead. He fell limply to the floor among his comrades, while mine continued to fight, shooting and slicing as fast and hard as they could. I turned back to the kid, throwing his gun at him. He fumbled to catch it. Geez, they'll bring in anyone nowadays... I need to complain to recruitment after we finish this.