Deployment (2)
The ability user unit boarded the Canberra-class landing ship, and soon the fleet set sail for the United States. Originally, they had planned to fly in by aircraft, but worsening weather conditions and unstable rebel air superiority led to a change in plans—they'd go by sea instead.
In Cheol-woo's mind, the ocean was far more dangerous. There was that thing out there, so why not stick with air travel? But word was, no ships crossing the Pacific had met with accidents lately. Instead, the Atlantic on the opposite side of the globe was seeing a rash of sinkings caused by unidentified monstrous creatures.
Yeah, now was definitely the perfect time to cross the Pacific by ship.
"So our mission is to smash the rebels, right?"
"No, you dumbass. The rebels are on our side. The Federation forces are the enemy."
"So America's the enemy?"
"What the fuck did you even hear during the briefing?"
Glancing over the ability user soldiers bantering back and forth aboard the ship, Cheol-woo's expression turned subtly skeptical. They were all ability users, sure, but none stood out as exceptional. No pig-like chargers who could shrug off machine-gun fire, no bodyguards dodging bullets—no one on that level.
With such a short recruitment window and pulling from military ranks, the pool was too small to snag top-tier talent.
Still, the fact they're soldiers counts for something.
Raw power might take a backseat to training and combat experience. Even GeumMyeong Security grunts weren't superhuman individually, but as a unit, they hit hard. Way more threatening than thug ability users who just charged in blindly.
At least they were all ability users—immune to the blue drug alone made them a huge asset.
"Ah, Mr. David Min."
"What is it?"
"You need to pick a callsign. Can't use real names over the radio."
On his way back to his quarters, Cheol-woo ran into the expeditionary force commander. Callsign, huh. As Cheol-woo pondered, Yuri jumped in without hesitation.
"I can just go by Yuri. It's common enough—no one'll pinpoint me."
"My wife will be 'Yuri' then."
"Understood. Yuri—that's Yankee-Uniform-Romeo-India in phonetic. And for you, David? I can assign one if it's tough."
"Ah, I've got one in mind. SteelRain... that work?"
"SteelRain. No issues. It's typically given to U.S. Marine artillery units—might even confuse the enemy."
After some thought, Cheol-woo offered his callsign, and Yuri squeezed her eyes shut beside him. SteelRain? That's your old gamer tag from back in the day. I'm dying of secondhand embarrassment here— Her cheeks flushed red.
"We'll arrive at Los Angeles port soon."
Stepping out onto the deck, Yuri's jaw dropped. Far off, a massive rift in the sky endlessly spewed black dust. From Australia, the rifts looked tiny against the sun, but North America's was sky-devouring. Black dust from the rift blanketed the ground in pitch-black fog.
"Looks like God taking a dump on Earth..."
"Fuck. We're about to eat."
Soon, comms linked up with Los Angeles port. Once they made everyone curse out the "parasite bastards," the mood lightened fast. Two helos carrying troops lifted off first. After the arrivals passed the enemy commander's X-ray scan, the all-clear came, and landing permission followed.
Helos shuttled back and forth, ferrying troops, with Cheol-woo and Yuri on the last one.
"This place is a real disaster zone..."
"..."
From the helo window, endless vistas of burning ruins, overrun suburbs, and swarming mutant hordes stretched out. Australia wasn't just peaceful—it was like nothing ever happened. Yuri felt it viscerally.
"I'm Colonel Douglas, overall rebel commander defending LA. Welcome to America."
"Good to meet you. I'm the Australian Army North America Expeditionary Force commander. This is the Secret Intelligence Agency mercenary who takes command if I fall."
"Thanks for coming. We were hurting bad for manpower. Big relief. But don't plan on flying anything but props here—the black dust clogs jet intakes and wrecks engines fast."
Bad news. Air support was off the table. On the flip side, no enemy bombings either. Looked like sweaty, muddy infantry slog.
"We've halted offensives long ago, switched to defense. Enemy firepower outclasses ours. Goal is hold out till wind shifts, blue drug concentration drops, and main force relieves us."
"No retreat option?"
"None. Too many civilians still evacuating. Handing them to Federation is same as feeding them to parasites."
"..."
Cheol-woo glanced back. Makeshift buildings and tents crammed a refugee camp into view. Gas-masked civilians swarmed it. Yeah, no soldier could abandon that and bug out.
"Plus, this isn't just an airbase—missile site too. Lose it, we forfeit all asymmetric power."
"Tried talking to the enemy? Their ability troops are all uninfected, right?"
"Ah, ability users can't get infected?"
"Not that— no infected are ability users. So all ability users are uninfected."
"Didn't know. Anyway, persuasion's tough. They brainwash troops hard—no rebel radio or TV, all our claims called lies. Broadcast Federation brass are parasites all day? Useless. Early on, some defected, but now? Too late. Only way's showing them a live parasite."
"..."
Situation was worse than expected. Fucked.
"Our forces are ragged. Mostly cops—no real combat fit, injured, exhausted. Requesting Aussie help for recon in force and urban civilian rescues."
"Got it. We can handle that."
Roles assigned. LA base troops were National Guard and police—little training, less combat. Aussies? All Iraq/Afghanistan vets, elite. Complex recon needing command skill and tactics? Their wheelhouse.
"Shall I show you the base? Good to memorize layout."
"Yeah, sure—"
Then—WHHHHIIIIIRRRR—sirens blared deafeningly. Colonel Douglas's smile froze solid.
Lounging GIs in the ops room snatched helmets and bolted.
"Isn't that the bio-attack alarm?"
"Yes."
"Enemy gassing us?"
"Nah. Just for mutant swarms."
"Shit..."
A subtle ground tremor. Cheol-woo clocked it wasn't imagination fast.
Aussie troops peering outside went slack-jawed. Mutants flooded the earth like ants—packed horizon to horizon.
"Defense posture! Seal entrances, prep barricade repairs!"
A sight Cheol-woo was sick of, but even he couldn't stifle awe. Hong Kong, Darwin—nothing like this scale. Continental power? Easy ten thousand mutants.
"Artillery incoming too? Fire support?"
"Affirmative. Battery not fully deployed—hold tight."
"All hands! Aussie arty support incoming. Hold the line!"
Every gun in base roared, hosing the horde. Mutants dropped, tripped, tangled—slowed, but not stopped. Soon they swarmed barricades, climbing over each other.
Aussies added fire from positions, but numbers overwhelmed. In seconds, mutants topped barricades east, west, north—everywhere.
[Mutants breaching perimeter! Mutants breaching perimeter! Support required!]
Fucked—we're dead— Douglas's pupils quaked.
Dozens already inside. By support's arrival? Barricade defenders slaughtered, hundreds pouring in.
It's over— Breath caught—
"Huh?"
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK—sharp rifle cracks echoed, mutant heads over barricades exploding in unison. Skull shards and blood sprayed wide.
Mutants lunging at downed troops? Heads gone.
Just cresting? Heads burst, tumbling back.
Chasing civilians at speed? Jaws vaporized, collapsing.
Heads popped like synchronized chips detonating—pop-pop-pop.
What the...?
Colonel Douglas stared, dazed by the surreal carnage.