Dean stopped. Something was wrong.

He looked left and right, but the setting around him didn't change. The bunker entrance remained where it was, the tree's remained swaying slightly in the wind. Dean narrowed his eyes. Was the world around him getting brighter? Was something wrong with the augmentations he had?

He stopped analyzing around him and instead focused to the front. The soldiers in front of him were staring behind him, mouths agape as their weapons rested at their sides. After several seconds, one soldier took a hesitant step back, then another. Dean finally clued in to what was happening and slowly turned around. The world went from bright to blinding in an instant and Dean was forced to look away, his eyes screaming in pain as he rubbed at them ferociously.

The metallic screech of an alarm came on. It started low, then became louder and louder, slowly worming its way into the minds of those still outdoors.

"What the fuck is going on!" Dean yelled as he stumbled towards his fellow soldiers. Each of them had their backs turned and were making their way to the bunker.

Glancing at them through squinted eyes, Dean recognized Jenkins just in front of him. Off to the left was Private First Class Leo, someone who Dean didn't talk to a lot. It would seem they heard his yell and both did a half turn towards him, being sure to keep the blinding light out of their eyes.

"Dean, is that you? I can't exactly see behind me right now!" Dean's lips twitched at Jenkins' snarky tone, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he quickly walked up and laid his hand on his shoulder, letting his friend know where he was.

"Let's just get to the mess hall. I'm sure they'll tell us what the hell is happening." Dean took a step forward... and was immediately thrown to the ground as the ground shifted beneath him. He heard Jenkins cry out with a surprised yelp as his forehead came into contact with the ground.

Ears ringing, a dull thump reverberated through his head. Dean could feel a stinging pain coming from his nose and quickly rolled over. Any noise flowing through the air was muffled for him, every vibration sent his vision spinning. It was then that he realized he could see, and the blinding light was gone. Instead, everything he could see was a dull red. He tried to wipe his eyes with his hand, but the ringing in his ears was to intense. His arms reacted on instinct instead and covered his ears. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his face scrunched in pain.

Ever so slowly, Dean began to regain motor function. He heard his something, a lone droning screech. Opening his eyes, he saw a figure stumble into view, but it's form remained encased in shadow. Dean blinked, and the form started to regain its physical shape.

Dean.

Dean!

"Dean! Common buddy we gotta go!"

Dean felt his arms being pulled and swiftly obeyed. His training began to kick in and he began to take in minuet details. MP's were running about the facility, shouting orders and assessing the situation. Private Leo was helping up a fallen soldier. Jenkins was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to move.

Dean looked into the sky and saw smoke billowing out from the nearby city. His city.

'Oh God. Marie, Jaxon!'

Deans mind cleared and he looked towards Jenkins with a steely expression. He nodded once, Jenkins nodded back, and together they double timed it towards the mess hall.

They passed by panicking staff and scientists, but ignored them for the most part. Dean did stop for one MP who was nearly crushed by a tool rack. He had tackled the MP out from under it just in time.

The halls of the complex were alight with yelling and panicking people as they ran to and fro. The once clean and pristine hallways were raining dust down upon the occupants in a very concerning matter. The bunker was designed to survive a direct thermo-nuclear strike; whatever had happened must have been ridiculously powerful.

'Did the Orith use a superweapon?'

Deans face paled at the thought. So far, the Orith had only been looking to take over the Earth and use it as their own... or so he thought. It would explain why they didn't just glass the surface with their ships from orbit.

After another minute of running, the small group joined into the ranks of a steady stream of cybernetically enhanced recruits making their way to the mess hall. Dean looked beside him and saw Jenkins demeanor had changed entirely. The usually happy-go-lucky prankster was now getting serious.

"Alright, get into formation recruits!" The voice of Staff Sergeant Lee echoed across the cavern they had just entered. Thirty some people milled about in confusion as they tried to determine their spots. After several moments of confusion, everyone stood at attention in a neat order before the Staff Sergeant. "Floor is yours Captain."

Captain Mason walked onto the stage before facing the crowded mess hall. Usually, it would only be the RSTF members that occupied the massive room, but Dean guessed that nearly the whole base staff was there.

The ground rumbled slightly before going quite once more, causing a few uneasy glances to be cast upwards. The Captain noticed and raised his hands.

"There is no need to worry. This facility is one of the most advanced bunkers in the United States. Now, you are all probably wondering what just happened outside a few minutes ago. All I can say is that we will be receiving a report in detail tomorrow on what transpired. For now, you are being sent on duty. Some of you may think that your training is not complete, some of you might think you are entirely ready, but know this: Nobody is prepared for a war, not even the bravest soldiers..."

As Captain Mason talked, Dean couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. He had gone through so much in such a short period of time, only being able to talk to his wife and kid every once and awhile had made him focus on the tasks at hand. But now, he wasn't sure if he was ready. Looking between the different faces, he noticed anxiousness on quite a few, but they all held a form of steely resolve; the kind of resolve a soldier who would die for their country represented. Dean focused on that: the faces of his brothers and sisters of arms. It didn't matter if he wasn't ready. It didn't matter if he completed or didn't complete his final exam... he would defend his country and his people till the day his heart stopped beating.

"...See to the barracks, get equipped, and know this: You are the best of the best, the elites of the military. Trust in your enhancements, your training, and your heart. Rangers lead the way!"

The room seemed to shake with the war cry as it was repeated by every single person in the room. Dean let a smirk touch his lips as everybody filed out in an organized line. They had been trained by professionals, Navy Seals and Delta force members. They had gone through every exercise, scenario, and tactic, drilling them into the heads of each and every RSTF member.

They were the best of the best, but Dean still had that nagging feeling in his gut. He would just have to wait and find out what it was....

*****

Dean took a deep breath and looked up. He tried to force the gruesome thoughts that were starting to pop into his head, the thoughts that haunted his dreams.

"Dean, are you alright?" Dean jumped when Twilights concerned voice pierced through his train of thought. His eyes settled on her adorable, but massive eyes. Her ears were twitching every so slightly and her muzzle was stuck in a small frown. If he had any less control, he would scoop her up and squeeze her like a teddy bear; her cuteness was almost overwhelming!

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Just a bad memory came up." He glanced at Midnight and saw his attention was still fixed. The pitch black Pegasus regarded him with focused eyes. Just glancing into them, he could tell that this particular pony had seen a lot.

Shaking his head slightly, Dean grimaced.

"See, the thing about humans, we have those within our society who are crazy and overreact violently. It was bad enough when religious fanatic's around the world started declaring the invasion as a start to the end times, thus panicking the masses and causing chaos."

Twilight huffed and ruffled her feathers. "But isn't religion supposed to be good? We have quite a few religious denominations on Equis and they usually teach about being good and living healthy. Why would religions want to cause chaos like that?"

Dean could only stare at her in dumbfounded disbelief.

'How can she be this naive? After all the atrocities she had to have witnessed...'

'Or maybe they lived a different form of life here? These ponies talk and think like a human, but they act very differently.'

"I'll have you know that most major wars were I came from were started because of religion, or in some way related to it. One of the world wars where I came from saw the mass extermination of a religious group. It wasn't directly a part of the war, but it was uncalled for and ended up fueling the flames needed to continue the fighting."

Dean saw all the beings present shift slightly at his words. Trignar looked like he wanted to say something, but instead kept his mouth closed. Dean huffed slightly in exasperation.

'Maybe this played a part in the ponies losing the war? Was it because they were taught peace?'

"Now, as I was saying..." Dean paused to glance at Twilight, but upon seeing she wasn't going to interrupt, returned his gaze to the wall. "There was one such finatic while I was on patrol. They had taken out the local law enforcement, so that left me and Jenkins as the only ones close enough to engage. It wasn't until we got visual contact that we realized the true severity of the situation....

*****

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Dean grumbled to himself as he jumped behind cover once more. The bodies of three terrorists lay on the floor, dead, from his last lightning quick attack.

Checking his ammo, Dean counted fourteen rounds left in his rifle. He mentally cursed himself for bringing such a long weapon on patrol with him. If he knew he would be traversing through a shopping mall filled with gunmen, then he would have brought something a little smaller and useful.

The patter of heavy feet brought him from his loathing; it sounded close.

Dean quietly slipped his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed his pistol and cocked the slide, arming it. A small sneer made its way to his face as he prepared himself for the pain to come.

'1'

The footsteps grew slightly louder, but one set was moving through a small shop, flanking him.

'2'

Light whispering could be heard, then the crackle of a radio while someone else responded. The whispering sounded nervous. Dean breathed once, and blinked.

'3'

Dean found himself flying through the air, his augmented legs launching him upwards and away. The deafening rattle of machine-gun fire echoed through the deserted mall. Sparks flew as bullets smashed into surrounding walls, benches, pillers, and anything else that was in the way. Not a single one hit Dean.

The man himself stuck his leg out, his world slowed down to a crawl as his foot made contact with the pillar he was hiding behind. He felt the cement give way and spiderweb from the impact, but it still held its form. Dean looked down as he was launched sideways. He slowly twisted his body to the side as a bullet ricocheted off his helmet, slamming into a wall soon after. Deans arm seemed to move on its own as his pistol started to level out.

Only hesitating for a second, Dean could make out the eyes of one of his attackers. He saw surprise, astonishment... and fear. it didn't matter to him though. He had watched as these men had gunned down escaping civilians, all the while yelling about providing mercy and a quick escape from the inevitable death they would receive.

As he looked into those eyes, the image of a little girl popped up. She was running away from the the shooting, crying and screaming for her mother. Dean had burst through the door to the mall, catching sight of her instantly. She seemed to recognize him as a member of the military, for her face had lit up into a smile at his entry. It was then that her head had exploded like a melon, painting Deans face and armour with blood and brain matter. He had shot three of the seven gunmen as they walked around the corner, but he had failed to shoot the one responsible for the girls death. And so here he was, staring into the eyes of her killer, the soulless bastard who had killed an innocent child.

Dean's eyes went from hesitation, to red rimmed fury. His trigger finger pulled down, the slide on top of the gun flew back, the explosion of gunpowder ignited, and an experimental bullet flew from the end of the barrel... all in the space of a microsecond.

The terrorists head exploded then and there, but the violence didn't end there. The compound inside the bullet stopped in his chest and exploded right afterwards. The mans chest exploded on the wall in a gory mess as Dean perfected a front flip over him, his eyes already searching for the next target.

Dean snapped his pistol around as his augmented hearing caught footsteps coming from the side. His first shot pulverised the terrorists right leg, causing him to scream in pain as he fell to the ground. Dean put and end to the screaming when he put another round in the man's head.

A gunshot sounded, and Dean saw stars for a moment as the wind was knocked from his lungs. He thanked whatever deity was out there for reminding him to wear his body armour. Dean did a quick leg sweep, catching his attacker off guard and causing them to fall to the ground. He was on his feet in an instant, and his brain barely registered the flowing red hair of a young women as he put a bullet between her eyes.

"Dean, we've got a situation, over."

"What is it Jenkins, over." Dean talked into the earpiece attached to his head as he scanned his surroundings once more. It would seem that he had eliminated all the gunmen, and women, in the immediate are.

"I need you to come to the food court ASAP with the medkit, I've got a young man here who tried to play hero and ended up getting shot in the side. The bullet pierced through his ribs but missed any organs. Hurry, he's losing blood, over."

Dean's eyes widened as he began to double time it to the food court. He kept his gun trained on his surroundings as he all but sprinted towards his objective.

A minute later, he reached it.

The massive crowd of people cried out in surprise and alarm at his speedy entry, but upon seeing the American flag on his breast and the RSTF emblem on his helmet, they all calmed down. Dean jogged towards Jenkins as the people parted like the red sea. He briefly noticed a small pile of bodies sitting near a Subway, obviously the terrorists Jenkins had taken care of. It pained Dean when he saw a few civilian bodies in the midst of the pile as well.

Dean finally reached the boy and got to work. No one else was going to die if he could help it, no one.

*****

"D-did the boy live?" Midnight flow asked anxiously. Dean looked from his spot on the wall and towards the pegasus. For a brief moment, the shadowy outline of a little girl appeared behind him, causing Dean's eyes to widen in fear.

"Dean?"

Dean refocused on Midnight, finding the shadow now gone, almost as if had never existed. "Y-Yeah, the boy lived. The bullet barely missed his liver; he was lucky.

....

"So, what happened after?" Dean was surprised to hear Trignars voice pierce the silence. It had felt like an eternity since he had heard the Dark Elf speak, not that he appreciated it.

"Well, I was actually bumped up a few ranks to Sergeant First Class. And before you ask," Dean cut Twilight off with a hand, "I prefer to go by Sergeant, Sergeant Dean, or just Dean among the people I knew." Dean saw Twilight's ear flick as she pouted from his interruption. "Sometime in the early stages of the war, each and every operative gained a special prototype body armour and exosuit, the same one you see me wearing. We became badass soldiers, and our exploits became legendary amongst the population. Morale is key in war after all."

Dean looked at his tacpad and checked the time. He frowned slightly when the clock read Twelve O'clock midnight. he needed to wrap it up so the others could get a proper rest. From his own experience, a few hours of sleep meant the difference between life and death on the battlefield.

"I have one more major event to tell you all about. I had received a message from somewhere. I didn't know the military knew how to make jokes, and 'lemme tell you, it wasn't a very good one... nearly made me lose my sanity." Dean mumbled the last bit as his eyes unfocused, but before could say anything, they snapped back to the present. He chuckled lightly as he rubbed his hand through his messy hair. "Anyway, we had just one a major offensive against the alien bastards....

*****

Dean sidestepped a swing from an Orithian foot soldier. Its massive, six fingered hands, were almost as big as his entire head. If he didn't have such a quick reaction time, he would become the headless horseman... minus the horse.

A quick jab found a gap in the Orithian soldiers armour, and Dean heard a satisfying snap as some sort of bone shattered. The alien let out a primal bellow and lunged for the human, but in its fury, it failed to account a certain knife being unsheathed. And so, as the human side stepped once more, the soldier made to let out another roar of anger, but instead began to choke. Its massive hands came up to its neck as its eyes glazed over. The last thing it saw was the smirk of the human soldier who had bested it so easily.

Dean smiled down at the alien below him before spitting on its corpse. He looked up at the battlefield before him. The sound of gunfire was slowly starting to die down, but the smells and sounds of death hung in the air like an overbearing spirit. He watched as a M3S4 Templar rumbled past, its main cannon swiveling and firing to a point in the distance. The city of Boston, smoking and in ruins, lay in front of the human army as they pushed forward.

Looking behind him, Dean contemplated if his latest choice was a good one.

He had called his wife a few days prior, telling her to take Jaxon and leave on the next plane in order to stay with her mother in British Columbia, Canada. He hoped that they were safe, especially with the Orith finally invading the mainland.

The Captain had ordered that they pushed forward, leaving it up to the national guard to cover their flank. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard any word on whether or not the National Guard had made it forward.

"Sergeant First Class Forester?" Dean looked behind him and saw a young soldier standing behind him. His rifle was clutched in his hands and they seemed to be shaking slightly.

"How can I help you Private?" Dean gave his most disarming look, which seemed to work as the boy stopped his quaking.

"A letter from Captain Mason sir, he requests you report to the command tent immediately. They set it up just behind that hill." The Private handed Dean a letter and saluted.

"Thank you Private, carry on." Dean saluted back quickly before jogging towards the designated hill. The HUD attached to his helmet and combat glasses let him know the movements of his allies, so he had no problem locating the tent itself.

Two guards were stationed outside the tent entrance, and each saluted in turn as he approached. Dean nodded towards them as he pushed the flaps open. Upon entering, all chatter stopped. Dean saluted smartly and held it.

"At ease Sergeant." Captain Mason waved his hand as all the officers and higher ups continued to stare at him. Dean brought his hand back down but remained stiff at attention. He had spotted the Major of the Rangers brigade standing off to the side and did not want to give the man another reason to hate of the RSTF. When the Rangers Special Task Force was created, a lot of people in the rangers corps thought their title was stolen from them. In reality, the RSTF was merely a branch of sorts.

"Sergeant First Class Dean Forester, you are likely wondering why you are here?" The Captain came and stood at attention a few feet away from him. Dean noticed that he was a bit farther away than normal. Why was that?

"Yes sir. Permission to speak freely sir?" Dean was very curious now. They needed him on the front lines, so why was he here.

"Granted."

"Sir, I was wondering why I am here. I am needed on the front lines with my fellow soldiers; we are very close to breaking through! Sir." The Captain let out a defeated sigh.

"Sergeant, I have some bad news." The Captain pulled another letter from his pocket and handed it to Dean. The letter was neat and in good condition. Dean breathed in the scent of paper that only a letter could give off. He flipped it over, and a wax seal presenting the RSTF's insignia. A small pang of worry bounced around his head, but he ignored it.

Dean opened the letter, gently tearing the top of and grabbing the small slip. His anxiety began to increase as he slid the letter free and rested in his hand. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. He recognized the letter, but he refused to accept what may be inside. He had seen the Captain writing in a similar one when the asshat, Deager, was killed.

'No, no, no....'

Dean, with trembling hands, opened the folded piece of paper. His vision tunneled as he slowly began to read the contents. He felt a moistness building in his eyes, but they refused to come out. He didn't see the officers present wince and hang their heads in sympathy.

"S-Sergeant Dean. At approximately oh-ninehundred hours...." Dean felt the tears begin to fall. Their forms tracing a wet trail down his dirty and windswept cheeks.

"Your wife, Marie, and your son Jaxon...." Dean felt his legs give out as he collapsed to his knees. Someone rushed to his side, probably to check if he hurt himself. He didn't feel anything.

"Were killed...."

And then, something in Deans mind snapped.

 

*****

Nobody moved, nobody breathed. The only noise that could be heard was the light rain outside the cave. Its muffled tip-tap echoed around the cave.

Twilight slowly stood up, her eyes fixed on the unmoving Sergeant Dean. She cautiously stepped towards the immobile soldier, almost expecting him to jump up and turn into a monster before her very eyes.

Instead, she caught a glimpse of his irises. They seemed sunken, dead. It saddened her to see him this way, and she felt tears start to moisten her eyes.

She was a foot away now, and she could hear his breathing. It was no longer calm and controlled. Instead, it was laboured and somewhat raspy.

She reached out a hoof.... and Deans head snapped towards her.

"It was just a joke. They were only trying to give me more motivation to fight. Once I'm done here, I'll go home, the war will be done, and I will live happily with Marie and Jax." Dean whispered, but it sounded like a booming yell. Twilights and Midnights ears folded against their heads. Unbeknownst to the two ponies and human, Trignar, one of the Princes of the Dark Elves, was battling his emotions. He was on the verge of crying, but he knew that he had seemed emotionally weak enough in the last day, his pride couldn't take another blow like that.

"I-I think I'll go to bed. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, so rest would be beneficial." Dean got up and walked towards his sleeping bag. His movements were robotic and jerky, but he stayed on course to the little sleeping bag.

Everyone present failed to move as the soldier tucked himself in and began to snore. After several tense seconds, Midnight ever so quietly went to his pack and unraveled his sleeping kit. He was out next. Twilight slowly walked towards her little sleeping area and pulled a blanket over herself.

'The things he had described, the situations he had to face... any regular pony would never made it as far as he did. Right now, he needs friends.'

And lastly was Trignar. The dark elf sat there for a good few minutes, his focus was entirely on the human in the bag across the cave. Frowning, he slid back over to his rugged old blanket and curled up as best he could. His last thought before he went to sleep was how much the human had gone through in such a short period of time. It was then and there that Trignar began to realize: This human, this Sergeant Dean... if he could survive so much and come out on top, nobody stood a chance against him.

Absolutely nobody.