269 First Assault [Chad/Tempest]
269 First Assault [Chad/Tempest]
[POV: Chad]
The members of the Red-Black Accord were divided into four groups: Alpha, Beta, Charlie, and Delta.
I got assigned as team leader for Beta.
Waiting for us outside the base was a massive strategic transport aircraft with its cargo bay wide open. The metal ramp extended down to the runway, and inside the dimly lit interior I could already see my team assembling. It was a strange mix of heroes and villains, some leaning against crates while others checked their gear in silence.
Guesswork walked beside me as we approached the plane.
“Now this is such an honor,” I said dryly. “You’re escorting me to the plane personally?”
“Just need a quick talk with you,” he replied.
I glanced at him sideways.
“Spill it. Am I gonna make it?”
Guesswork scoffed lightly.
“I don’t spoil the future. That’s more Spoiler’s thing.”
“Guess then,” I said. “Do I make it?”
He thought for a moment before answering.
“You’ll live, but you’ll feel like dying.”
I let out a short laugh.
“So crippling injury then? Yeah, that’s gotta suck. How am I supposed to work after that? Might as well kill me so the wife and daughter actually get something.”
Guesswork said nothing.
“Just kidding,” I added quickly. “Don’t kill me. But if I end up crippled, I want the Company and SRC taking care of me and my family until old age.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Guesswork replied. “There’s still the GDF. A desk job doesn’t sound so bad.”
I snorted.
“Nah, they’re too poor.”
Most heroes made their income through corporate sponsors or state contracts. The Global Defense Force didn’t have those kinds of luxuries. Our funding came from bounty systems, advertisement gigs, and whatever contract work we could land.
Even Griffin back in her day had dipped into her own pocket just to keep things running. Most of the early seed money for the organization came from George.
I sighed quietly at that thought. I never imagined I’d have to square up against him one day. Back then he looked like the least threatening guy in the room. A desk analyst who barely knew how to throw a punch.
Turns out he could be quite the menace.
Guesswork slowed his pace slightly.
“Take care,” he said.
I nodded and walked up the ramp into the aircraft.
The cargo bay smelled like oil, metal, and recycled air. My team was already seated along the sides of the hull, straps hanging from the walls beside them.
I dropped into one of the center seats and began securing my harness.
“My name’s Tempest,” I shouted over the growing hum of the engines. “But I bet you already know that.”
Several of the capes glanced toward me.
I tapped my earpiece.
“Alright, comms check. Everyone confirm your connection. Beta team only for now.”
A few lights flickered on my HUD as voices answered.
“Lightbeam online.”
“Specter here.”
“Bloodweaver connected.”
I rolled my eyes slightly and continued the routine.
“Good. Sync your trackers with the team channel. Set emergency frequencies and make sure your suits are calibrated for long-range deployment. If something goes wrong mid-flight, I don’t want anyone fumbling with settings.”
The cockpit door slid open slightly and a voice came through the internal speakers.
“This is your pilot speaking. Name’s Carter. Please make sure everyone is strapped in properly because this ride will get rough once we leave the lower atmosphere.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“Estimated travel time to the target zone is approximately forty-five minutes.”
The rear hatch closed with a heavy metallic thud. Moments later the aircraft began to move. The engines roared louder as the transport accelerated down the runway. The vibration rattled through the entire hull before the plane lifted into the air.
My earpiece crackled.
Guesswork’s voice came through the channel.
“Attention all Red-Black Accord teams. Every aircraft has successfully departed the base and is currently en route to their designated combat zones.”
A second voice joined the channel shortly afterward.
“Hello everyone,” the woman said in a calm, clear tone. “My name is Krissy. I come from a parallel world known as Grim.”
Guesswork added quickly.
“Krissy will be acting as my technical consultant for this operation. Her world specializes heavily in advanced technology.”
Krissy continued speaking.
“I will primarily offer advice whenever technology-related problems arise. I will also remain in direct contact with any tech-based capes across all teams. For operational purposes, I will work most closely with Teams Beta and Charlie. Your groups will be handling two of the Four Horsemen.”
Her voice became slightly more serious.
“Team Charlie will be responsible for confronting Famine, also known as Master Sequence.”
A second image flashed onto the shared tactical feed.
“Team Beta will engage Conquest, who has been identified as George Marshall. He was formerly an SRC analyst and business partner of the Company.”
About ten minutes into the flight, something in the cargo bay moved.
A small humanoid drone sitting among the seats raised one metallic hand and gave us a polite wave. The machine looked vaguely human-shaped, though its body was clearly built for utility rather than intimidation. Its limbs were thin, its head rounded, and a small screen where a face should have been flickered with soft blue light.
Krissy’s voice came through the comms immediately.
“That drone is mine,” she explained. “Every team has one onboard. They allow fluid communication between your aircraft and the base of operations. It is also a countermeasure against the jamming technology currently employed by the Cult of the End.”
The drone turned its head slowly as if scanning all of us.
“You should treat it as an essential part of your team,” Krissy continued. “Protect it if possible. Through these drones, I can interact with the battlefield directly and help you counter the Four Horsemen.”
The phrase still sounded strange to me.
The term Four Horsemen came from the Cult of the End’s teachings. Apparently they ripped the concept straight out of the Bible. I never spent much time studying that particular book, but even I understood the basic symbolism. In the stories, the Four Horsemen were supposed to represent calamity, harbingers of the end of the world.
As far as we were concerned, the names didn’t really matter.
Master Sequence had nothing to do with famine, and George certainly had nothing to do with conquest in the biblical sense. The titles were just labels attached to threats we needed to eliminate.
The rest of the flight turned into a forty-five minute crash course on George Marshall.
Krissy projected a rotating image of a knight riding a mechanical horse onto the cargo bay wall. The visual was reconstructed from surveillance footage and satellite data gathered during his recent attacks.
“Conquest, real name George Marshall,” Krissy began. “Based on the available information, his power signature suggests an extremely unstable form of dimensional pull. The activation of this pull reportedly occurred around the moment of his death.”
She paused briefly before continuing.
“We believe George Marshall may be the first natural case of what is known as a Power Mutate within this world.”
Several members of the team shifted in their seats.
“Griffin also possessed a Power Mutate,” Krissy explained. “However, her mutation originated from an external world during one of her dimensional excursions. In George’s case, the mutation appears to have formed naturally within this reality.”
The projection shifted again, showing a data comparison between Griffin and George.
“The exact mechanism behind acquiring a Power Mutate remains unknown,” she continued. “However, Griffin’s documented abilities provide a useful framework for understanding George’s potential capabilities.”
Her tone grew slightly more serious.
“The difference is that George’s Power Mutate appears to be immature. That does not make him less dangerous.”
The image zoomed in on George’s armored form.
“Despite having no significant combat record prior to this event, George Marshall now represents a threat level that cannot be countered by any single power currently known in this plane of existence. Probably, with the sole exception of Eclipse.”
A few people in the aircraft muttered quietly at that.
Krissy continued her briefing.
“In terms of equipment, George has been observed utilizing advanced teleportation technology. He is also capable of summoning weapons from seemingly empty space. One recorded weapon was a lance containing a nuclear payload.”
That made several people sit up straight.
“The summoning system is believed to operate through a form of pocket dimension storage. He can retrieve weapons instantly during combat.”
The projection showed footage of George moving through a battlefield.
“He possesses two distinct movement modes. One resembles a speedster’s enhanced physical acceleration. The other appears to be a warp-based movement system that tears through matter along its path.”
The image changed again, now showing massive tidal waves swallowing entire coastal districts.
“He also utilizes vibration-based technology capable of generating large-scale water displacement. This is how he creates the tsunamis seen in the footage.”
Krissy’s voice remained calm despite the severity of the information.
“The full extent of his technology is unknown. We cannot predict how many devices he can summon or deploy. You should expect unpredictable equipment usage during the encounter.”
The projection shifted to show the mechanical horse beneath him.
“One more detail is critical,” Krissy added. “George’s mount is considered a separate entity.”
The image zoomed closer.
“The horse is female. Her name is Dullahan. She was previously a member of the Nth Contract.”
A few heads turned at that.
“We do not know how much of their original personalities remain intact,” Krissy continued. “George and Dullahan have both undergone extensive alterations.”
Another set of images appeared showing mechanical drones swarming around George’s position.
“Additionally, Conquest is currently accompanied by multiple humanoid drones that act as cannon fodder during engagements. These machines are believed to be constructed by Famine, also known as Master Sequence.”
Several of the drones in the images looked different from the others.
“Conquest has also been observed modifying some of these drones to create elite combat units. Expect heavier resistance from those variants.”
The final image showed a small group of robed figures standing near George during one of the attacks.
“There are also cultist believers present in the combat zone,” Krissy finished. “While they are less dangerous individually, their fanaticism should not be underestimated.”
The plane rattled slightly as it descended toward our target zone.
The pilot’s voice came through the speakers.
“We have eyes on Conquest.”
Everyone in the cargo bay straightened slightly.
Guesswork’s voice followed immediately through the comms.
“Team Beta, you are approaching the engagement zone. Good luck out there. Wait for my signal before deploying.”
Krissy’s drone raised its head slightly as her voice returned to the channel.
“Before deployment, one last clarification regarding George Marshall’s biology,” she said calmly. “Based on our analysis, George is no longer a conventional organism. His core existence appears to be a cluster of data capable of physically manifesting itself into form.”
A holographic projection flickered briefly on the drone’s face.
“He typically manifests as either a young boy or a young man with dark skin and a white jacket. The armored knight you see in most of the footage is not his actual body.”
A few of the villains exchanged glances.
“The machines you will be fighting are merely shells,” Krissy continued. “The one exception is the horse. The mount known as Dullahan is believed to be the former cape who once served in the Nth Contract, some kind of cyborg cape with just as strange biology.”
Guesswork’s voice cut in again.
“Alright, Beta team. That’s your signal.”
I unclipped my seat harness, stepping toward the open edge of the cargo ramp.
Wind screamed past the opening.
“Everyone refer to your smartwatches,” I shouted over the roar of the engines. “Flyers maintain altitude and stay inside the cloud cover as much as possible. Ground units keep your map awareness active at all times.”
I tapped my earpiece.
“Guesswork, that good with you?”
“That’s fine,” he replied. “Everyone stay attentive to comms. I’ll continue feeding updates as they come.”
I tried to recall the names of everyone on my team.
Honestly, it was too much.
There were dozens of capes involved in the Accord, and memorizing every single one of them felt impossible. Thankfully Guesswork acted like a voice in our heads, quietly reminding us who was who when needed.
I couldn’t imagine how overwhelming that must have been for him.
At least he had help.
Nicole, the chairwoman of the Company, was apparently acting as his second-in-command for Teams Alpha and Delta.
Guesswork began issuing assignments rapidly through the channel.
“Beta team, assignments are now active. Bloodweaver and Specter will guard Krissy’s drone. Lightbeam and Vortex will take scouting positions above the cloud line. Candyqueen and Iron Serpent will handle fodder suppression.”
Icons shifted across the tactical map on my smartwatch.
“Order and Steelguard will establish the first perimeter line. Phantom and Redline secure the second perimeter. Rescue operations will be handled by Pulse and Shaman if civilians appear in the engagement zone.”
Everything moved quickly as Guesswork listed more orders.
I didn’t wait any longer.
I stepped off the edge of the aircraft and dropped into open air.
Wind roared past me as the ground rushed upward in the distance. I stabilized myself immediately using aerokinesis, letting the currents hold me in place while the plane continued forward above me.
My goggles lit up with warnings.
Two bright markers appeared on the display with heat-seeking missiles.
I snapped my hand forward and fired a concentrated wind projectile infused with intangibility. The compressed air sliced cleanly through both missiles, severing their bodies before they could reach the plane.
The two warheads detonated harmlessly in midair.
Krissy’s voice burst through the comms.
“Tempest, there’s a third missile!”
“Eyes?” I asked quickly.
“I can’t see it,” she replied.
Guesswork’s voice followed immediately.
“Take a guess based on trajectory. Twelve o’clock above you. Release a wide arc.”
I stayed suspended in the air and expanded my control over the wind currents. A sweeping crescent of compressed air blasted outward in front of me.
Something invisible tore apart in the arc.
The hidden missile exploded instantly.
Behind me, the rest of the team began jumping from the aircraft one by one.
Krissy spoke again.
“There are more incoming. I’m sending a detection program to your goggles to improve your targeting capabilities.”
Guesswork cut in again, before I could respond.
“Tempest, focus on intercepting the missiles for now. Let the others destroy the artillery launching them.”
More warning icons appeared across my display.
We hadn’t even seen Conquest yet, and we were already under pressure.
Whoever built these systems had some seriously impressive engineering capabilities.