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Thread: Pocket Legends: Neo Mages Episode 4: Camp D.A Chapter 2: The Old Army

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    Default Pocket Legends: Neo Mages Episode 4: Camp D.A Chapter 2: The Old Army

    Pocket Legends: Neo Mages
    Episode 4: Camp D.A
    Chapter 2: The Old Army



    While the sirens kept blaring, all of us silently waited for Mikhailov’s command. Only few of the veterans were equipped with rifles, while a pistol gave me little support. Look at their faces; they had to encounter every Dark Alterran years ago. Crouching down at the corner while staring at the hard floor, as I thought of the battles I’ve went through. Cinnamon, I hope you’re doing okay in the capital…
    Mikhailov: “Veterany Bagrovoy Armii!”
    I immediately took a glance at Mikhailov and Andropov. Their faces looked like as if this was their final battle.
    Mikhailov: “Kogda my otkroyem eti dveri, my budem probivat' dvor zaklyuchennykh. Ne ozhidayte, chto oni sdadutsya!”
    We planned this earlier. They have these pillbox defenses, with machine guns inside.
    Mikhailov: “Yesli nam udastsya peresech' vnutrenniye vorota, my razdelimsya, kogda budem sabotirovat' shtab-kvartiru!”
    Storm into the buildings. Loot them all up.
    Mikhailov: “Kak tol'ko my ub'yem ikh vsekh, my budem svobodny!”
    Once everything’s in control, the remaining survivors will go straight into the UA for aid. We just can’t go back to Medved.
    Mikhailov: “Ya blagodaryu vsekh vas za uchastiye v etom geroicheskom momente! Eto ponyatno, tovarishchi?!”
    All UUSR Prisoners: “DA, KOMANDIR MIKHAILOV!”
    Mikhailov: “Angela, come with us. The rest will charge at the firing positions while we stay behind for backup!”
    Passing through the pack of Ursans, I joined with the commander and his comrade. As my pistol became revealed, I pulled out of the small magazine to see if it was fully loaded or not. In you go, little one.
    Mikhailov: “Tovarishch, otkroyte vorota!”
    Andropov quickly ran to the left side of the gate and grabbed the handle.
    Andropov: “Gotovy, soldaty Russi?!”
    All UUSR Prisoners: “DA, GEROY RUSSI!”
    The two Ursans began to bust the black gates; it gradually began to open. The rest of the veterans followed their lead as I watched them. So, this is my third battle. I thought in 220, I would be finished as soon I went out from the tavern. Now that I’m here, all of my Rushian buddies would help me to escape to face more battles far more dangerous than before. Cinnamon, Mark, Rose, Tom. I’m coming home!
    Mikhailov: “ATAKA!”
    All UUSR Prisoners: “URAAAAAH!!!”
    Judging by their looks, it looks like they were possessed by demons of wrath. They almost became animals. No time to waste, I quickly followed the mob. The sky was filled with gray smoke, but we were able to see the light. As I learned after the riot, Crypta was heavily polluted as a prison country. The next thing I knew, loud gunshots started from the bunkers in front of us. Bullets whizzed through. I could tell few of them are gone as I ran. I saw Mikhailov and Andropov prone behind a short wall, and I quickly ran to the right of the inmate yard. I immediately ducked low with my companions, and they notice me.
    Mikhailov: “Angela?! Thank Alterra you survived this wave! We need to take the gunners out!”
    Angela: “I know!”
    Mikhailov: “Take a good look at the hero of Rushia. He even used a musket as a juvenile!”
    Andropov looked more than a marksman. Did fate choose him to end the Alterran Civil War? The bodies of the fallen were littered everywhere in front of an entrance that was once known for entering the crypt. Bright flashes appeared everywhere every second as the gunfire rattled my long ears. While three of us took cover, the rest of the veterans tried to get down while shooting. We’ve lost most of our friends, but confidence kept us moving.
    Mikhailov: “Treat these prison guards as if they are the reincarnations of the black army. SHOOT!”
    Andropov’s rifle pointed at the concrete pillbox. With the help of the iron sights, he pulled the trigger. POW! One of the machine guns stopped firing, but kept continuing after a few seconds.
    Andropov: “Mne nuzhno povredit' pulemety!”
    Mikhailov: “Angela, we need your help!”
    Angela: “Me?! What can I do? All I have is this short ranged gun!”
    Mikhailov: “Not anymore!” *grabs a full mana potion from inner wool jacket*
    Angela: “Where’d you get that?”
    Mikhailov: “Thanks to one of my comrades, they sneaked from one of the stations and offered me as a birthday gift. I suppose living in Alterra for 42 years is my limit, now take it! We don’t have much time!”
    I took a full swig from the small bottle, while the energy and the medicinal bitterness flowed inside me. I feel warmth. POW!
    Andropov: *reloads* “Proklyatiya, ya propustil!!”
    Mikhailov: “Wait for a moment! The gunners are almost out of ammunition!”
    Angela: “Andropov can have my rifle! I prefer using pistols!”
    It’ll take seconds to have the machine gun fully loaded, and I have to act fast. If I get shot by those gunners, the situation’s gonna become worse for the team. What will Mikhailov and Andropov do, then? The muzzle flashes stopped appearing.
    Mikhailov: “GO!”
    I got up to my feet and start charging towards the bunkers, hoping they won’t start firing. My torn gloves began to ablaze with bright flames, while using my hands to create a fireball. Not just a small one, but big enough to burn a small fort down. As the fireball grew like a cannonball, the pillbox became closer, while increasing the chances for a hit. However, I need to be very accurate; I only have a single chance to burn one of the defenses. I hear whizzes behind me as I ran. I knew my friends were behind this. I only got a few seconds to throw like a tiny ring on a hundred point bottle in a carnival game in Nuri’s Hallows.
    Angela: “AH!” *throws fireball*
    FWOOSH! The embrasure bursts into the spilling of orange flames like the Elite Red Dragon spitting scorching flames at elite trained warriors during ancient times. I hear screams of burning, but I have no time to pity on them. I see Mikhailov and Andropov coming right at me.
    Mikhailov: “Get inside that bunker, I will lift you up!”
    He kneeled down as he revealed his palms, and I stood on top of him. I performed a short jump and my hands were held onto the embrasure. As I pulled up, I crawled inside. Ignoring the burning bodies of the guards, I stretched my hand below. The flames cooled down, but some of them remain.
    Andropov: “Ya poydu pervym!”
    Mikhailov lifted him up and his hands gripped my arm firmly . I carefully pulled him up as he climbed up like the ice climbers they fought against the yetis long ago. Andropov entered inside, and helped the commander to climb up. Without a word, Andropov started to unsling his rifle and aimed at the gunners at the other side. POW! That’s one. POW! Two. POW! Three. POW! Four. First objective completed. While Andropov reloads his rifle, Mikhailov signals the surviving veterans. They all charge at the defense systems.
    Andropov: *opens burnt crate* “Molotovy? Oni tupyye?”
    Mikhailov: “Eto dlya statistov! Vzyat' odin!”
    He luckily found a lighter inside. I take a glimpse at the field and I count the casualties in my head. Almost eighty of them lost. I think of them sacrificing themselves in a prison as a waste when they could have dropped lots of blood during the civil war. It looks like all of them managed to climb over the pillbox. I notice Yakov waving at the other bunker, as others began to climb up.
    Mikhailov: “Quick, to the headquarters!”
    After Mikhailov exited the bunker, Andropov placed his hand on my left shoulder.
    Andropov: “Spasibo, drug.”
    He started to run at the exit. I’ll take that as a compliment. I quickly exited out of the bunker, and ran down the small stairs. A tall brick building starred at the three of us.
    Angela: “There it is.”
    Andropov headed to the door quickly and as he grabbed the handle, he twisted. Then, he carefully opened the door, trying not to make a loud creak.
    Mikhailov: “Be silent, all of you.”
    First went Mikhailov, then Andropov, and finally myself. While aiming with their rifles, they took quiet steps one step at a time on the metal staircase. As we went up the stairs, the muffled voices were getting a bit louder. On the second story, we saw an entrance facing sideways. Andropov helped Mikhailov to settle down six of the bottles.
    Mikhailov: *whispers* “Go over there…”
    Running to the other side, I checked the door if it was unlocked or not. The handle reached to 30 degrees; no wonder the security is so poor. I guess the government heavily focused on their rocket. Grabbing the lighter from Andropov’s pockets, he quickly set one bottle lit to another like birthday candles. I bet the veterans at the other building are preparing their second offense, too.
    Mikhailov: “NOW!”
    I quickly pulled the door, and Mikhailov was the first to throw. Next, came Andropov. He looked at the table and began to take aim after Mikhailov’s first bottle had been shattered to pieces of flames.
    SUA Guard #1: “VZLOMSHCHIKI! OBORONITEL'NAYA LINIYA BYLA NARUSHENA!”
    SUA Guard #2: “ZAKAZHITE BAGROVYY BATAL'ON NEMEDLENNO!”
    All of the bottles have been used. Mikhailov and Andropov quickly entered. They brought a nearest office table, making it fall to the ground and started to shoot with their arms. Thanks to its thickness, the pistol bullets couldn’t even shoot through the table.
    Mikhailov: “ANGELA, HELP US!”
    Angela: “Crap, will do!”
    I got into the floor and started to crawl to dodge the bullets as I entered in the madhouse. Taking a right turn, I hid into a forest of dark tables without being seen; the guards were too busy on those two. Reaching at the right corner, the iron sights landed on the guards, unnoticed. I need to reserve my ammunition; it’s one bullet for each. All I need to do is to aim at their heads. POK! POK! POK! POK! POK! POK! POK! POK! Getting down, I quickly pulled the empty magazine out. That wasn’t bad aim, as I only got six of them. I grabbed another magazine from my pocket, inserted it, and cocked the pistol. Back to firing; a bullet rammed through my left shoulder.
    Angela: “Agh!”
    It came from a pistol, because then a rifle would’ve been more severe. I quickly blocked the wound, but it’s gonna be impossible to shoot accurately with a single hand. Mikhailov and Andropov were moving forward to the remaining guards; there were ten of them left. My left hand has been immobilized, but I don’t even like using guns with one hand. Not only using it makes it stereotypical, it makes the accuracy even worse. So far, I only got two of them. Passing through the litter of deceased guards and papers, a guard was on a phone, contacting with someone.
    SUA Officer: “Snachala mne ponadobitsya podderzhka s vozdukha! Privedi napadavshikh!”
    Mikhailov quickly bashed him on the top with a rifle butt. The guard fell to the concrete floor, bleeding as his cap fell off. Mikhailov quickly confiscated the revolver from the gun pouch and placed it in his pocket after removing six rounds from the cylinder.
    SUA Officer: *moans* “Predateli tovarishcha Dragunova, podozhdite, poka on ne zapoluchit vas!”
    Mikhailov: “Tot fakt, chto vy vstupili v organizatsiyu, chtoby prinesti terror Alterra, delayet vas predatelem natsii!” *kicks guard*
    Andropov’s rifle pointed at the beaten guard, right at his head.
    SUA Officer: *sneers* “Prosto pokonchi so mnoy. Ty tratish' svoye-”
    POW! Blood spurted out from the kneecaps. The wounded guard howled in agony while Andropov prepared another round. Aiming at the left leg of the guard, he pulled the trigger. POW!
    SUA Officer: *screams* “VY CHERNYYE DEVILY! YA UB'YU VAS VSEKH!”
    Mikhailov: “Kak vy mozhete ubit' vsekh nas, yesli vy yavno iskalecheny?”
    I hear the distorted sounds from the other side of the building. Yakov and his group are still fighting? I completely forgot!
    Angela: “Mikhailov, our other group! They need-”
    Mikhailov: “Let’s go!”
    I look at the crippled guard staring at the floor as he kept cursing under his breath. Both of his kneecaps are shot, so he’s gonna have to use a wheelchair soon. I followed them by crossing the sky way after turning to the left. As we got closer, the muffled gunshots and shouts became much louder. Three of us entered to the stairway, and I was the first one to grab the doorknob. Hopefully, they didn’t notice that we were behind.
    Mikhailov: “Open!”
    I yanked the door quickly and their guns began to crack. POW! POW! Two of the guards fell to the guard by their bullets. Charging at the guard, Andropov’s rifle knocked the guard out. Mikhailov, however, grabbed a revolver and threw at another guard’s head. It took a second to find out who threw at him. POW! I was still behind the door with my wounded bloody shoulder. I looked at the staircase below, wondering if there were more guards coming up.
    SUA Officer: “Zaklyuchennyye so spiny! Strelyay-” POW!
    More cracking from the guns kept on going. The SUA knew they were surrounded, but they kept on firing. Thanks to Yakov’s group at the other side, we were near to escape the UUSR.
    Mikhailov: “Vykhodi, soldaty! We are done here!”
    Riot’s over, for now. I entered into the station and see the surviving veterans joining together. Yakov was shot in the upper leg, but was supported by the help of two Ursans.
    Yakov: “Eto bylo diko, komandir! Eti agenty poymali menya pryamo tam. *points at right bloody leg* Mozhete sebe predstavit', kak eto bylo na nashey storone?”
    Mikhailov: “Skol'ko zhertv v vashey gruppe?”
    Yakov: “Desyat' iz nikh, no eto yeshche khuzhe. Pomnite, my dolzhny byli atakovat' v oborone?”
    Angela: “Mikhailov, shouldn't we hurry? The Crimsons are about to come.”
    Yakov: “Eh?! Posmotrite na nas, my vse raneny! El'f dolzhen ispol'zovat' svoi tselitel'nyye sily uzhe seychas!”
    Angela: “Um…”
    Yakov: *looks away* “Bah! Vy ne to, chto ya govoryu, ne tak li?”
    Mikhailov: “Angela, there is a supply station for us to recover our bodies. David, ty poydesh' s ney.” *hands rifle to him*
    David: “Da, komandir. Davay, devushka!”
    Two of us exited the building after we climbed down the stairs. The limited amount of sunlight gave us a bit of energy; shooting the guards surely made us exhausted. A station appeared in front of us, and we opened the doors. There were medical bags, rifles hanging above and machine guns resting below. Gas cans were even on the other side. We grabbed the medical bags and I was about to leave the station.
    David: “No. Stay.”
    Angela: “Oh. When did you take English?”
    David squatted down and opened the medical bag. He took out the bandage wraps and began to help himself. I just crouched down and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a few packages of cotton balls.
    David: “Was not my first language. I learn English when war stopped. Was pilot back then.”
    Angela: “That’s cool. What was your experience?”
    David: “Wish to fly when young cub. Pass test, and I join air force. In war, was scary. Drop bombs, hard. Shoot big guns, easy. *imitates explosions and guns firing*
    Angela: *giggles* “I never thought to become a soldier when I was little. I had to join a secret paramilitary to avenge my parents. They were both executed by the government after the civil war.”
    David: “Yes. Government more strict. Talk bad of Dragunov, and you join here. Maybe worse.”
    The aeronautical noise became louder and I looked at the gray sky. The plane covered in black and green camouflage flew above us. It looked a bit larger than a regular fighter, and there was something sticking out from the rear. I didn’t know what kind of a plane it was; I never went to a military museum. It seemed the pilot didn’t look at us, as it passed through the headquarters. David had a fearful look.
    David: “Shturmovik… Nekhorosho!”
    Angela: “What kind of a plane is that?”
    David: “Come!”
    He grabbed all of the medical supplies and began to head back to the headquarters, and I followed along with him. When we were near to the door that lead to our group, I realized something.
    Angela: “Wait, David!”
    David looked at me, giving me a puzzled face.
    Angela: “If we just rush through, they’ll mistake us as prison guards! Let’s just do it slowly.”
    David nodded. I slowly raised both of my arms like a defeated Dark Alterran knight during 216. I began to open the door, and I appeared in the front of the Ursans that had their rifles pointed at me.
    Mikhailov: “Opustite svoi vintovki!”
    Commanded by their users, the rifles began to lower down.
    Mikhailov: *chuckles* “We thought you were those agents! My apologies.”
    Angela: *smiles* “Yeah, I knew you guys were gonna do it. We brought some supplies, by the way.”
    David began lay out all of the medical supplies. I handed out every bandage, swabs, and flasks to the wounded prisoners. They all began to help themselves.
    Yakov: “Pfeh! Chto vy, rebyata, tak dolgo?”
    David: “My prosto boltali, poka ne pribyl Shturmovik.”
    Yakov: “Sh-Sh-SHTURMOVIK?!”
    Angela: “What are they, David?”
    David: "Big plane, but not know. Navernyaka komandir Mikhailov budet znat'."
    Mikhailov: “A ground-attack plane, created by the humans. During their old war long ago, they had to save their country by building a plane that can fire rockets at the foot soldiers from above. Somewhat similar to our rocket artillery.”
    Yakov: “Ya by luchshe prokatilsya na Yakovlev, chem na etom zvere!”
    Almost everyone patched their wounds, but the bullets shot by the SUA remained inside their flesh. There isn’t an army base near to Camp D.A, even though the Crimsons will arrive at any moment. The muffled sound of the attacker gradually became louder for some reason, and a short hissing began.
    Mikhailov: “UYTI OT OKNA!”
    I looked at the window with curiosity. Two bright objects flew above the building, and another pair was about to ram at the wall.


    To Be Continued...
    Last edited by RushalotPL; 11-04-2020 at 12:52 AM. Reason: Patched a plot hole of Angela using her rifle.

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