Chapter 8: Revelations

When light flashed before his eyes, James remembered his youth. How he was uncomfortable with his body, his first love, and his first divorce. The moment he graduated as a soldier, how he accidentally broke his first mech, and the time he became an officer. Memories of his mistakes and triumphs came to mind, and he liked it. It gave him clarity that he was close to dying, and he was given a chance to rewatch his life and wonder what he could do to change it.

Then, he remembered a point in his childhood. Where he went to the circus and found a puppeteer wearing orange goggles. How the puppet master freaked him out and made him run out of the circus in tears. James wasn't sure why his mind raced to that day, perhaps it was to show how he changed from a scared child to a brave man. Maybe, he saw himself as the child right now. Terrified to die and wanted to run. But he knew better than to run, he knew he had to get the job done.

The world was silent when he woke up. His back was covered in earth and ash caused by the nuclear explosion. After spitting out blood that had built up at the back of his throat, James huffed as he struggled to lift himself. Groaning as his broken ribs pop at every slight movement. He touched his left side and felt a small pocket of blood forming in his sync-skin. James felt the wet and warm sensation as he moved his hand to his back. Blood, he knew he wouldn't have long.

He looked around, observing his surroundings to see if there were any threats. Only to find the outer palace empty. He figured the nuclear explosion would’ve scared anyone off, though he was unsure if that was the case. James was unconscious for too long, and he needed to make sure the king was near.

He checked his gear. His shotgun revolver, a 25cm long and five cylinder shotgun loaded with 12-gauge slugs, didn’t have a scratch on it. The knife, which was more like a sword due to it being as long as his forearm, had a chip near the handle, but nothing to cause alarm. His belt with his ammo was still on him, that was for certain. To him, he was geared and ready for battle. Even if his body had taken a beating.

“Alright, time to get the job done.” He said to himself as he limped his way inside the palace. His right foot dragged his left while his gun hand rested on his side. The only regret he had at that moment was that he had replaced his med kit with additional ammunition. Thinking about it made him laugh, realising that taking some pain killers would’ve been a better idea than an extra slug or two. But in the end, there was no point in complaining.

The palace was remarkable. Despite the shattered glass and ash that made its way inside, it was beautiful. Gold trims on the rails near the staircase, paintings of previous rulers or legendary figures, and landscapes of their home nation. The walls had a silver lining, and the wood was polished to perfection, which complemented the marble tiles. They had pride in their home. James could see it. A display of history about a people whose world was falling apart. It also happened that James was involved in their demise.

James entered the main hall of the palace. All he needed to do was keep going forward, and he would be in the throne room. The king would be there. All the information gathered about the Lunarian’s hinted that he would not leave his throne room if his city was under siege. James hoped that was the case, because he dreaded the thought of trying to find the king in the maze of a palace.

“Halt!” A knight in dragon-scaled red armour approached James. His black blade sword was drawn at the ready. “I am the lord of these halls, the champion of his highness. Who dares a demon walk inside these sacred halls and challenge the Dragon of the West?!”

Annoyed at the jest of a duel, James raised his revolver and blew the knight’s head clean off. “Slug beats dragon.” He joked before he continued his way to the throne room.

However, before he could push the door open, which led to the throne room, a magical barrier went up and blocked his path. Painfully, he shifted his body and aimed his revolver at an elderly Jalzin. He shot at her three times. Yet every round slowed down and stopped at a halt in front of her.

“Shit,” James mumbled. Realising that the Silenced Sphere had deactivated, and that he was standing in front of the kingdom’s head mage. There was nothing he could do to even kill her, let alone hurt her. “Well, three out of five tasks completed isn’t so bad,” he mumbled to himself, ready to face certain death at the hands of his enemy.

“I don’t understand,” she commented as she grabbed one of the slugs in the air. Intently examining it while the others fall to the ground. “This war, this conflict. I can’t put my finger on why your kind is doing all of this.”

“Perhaps you should…”

“Don’t insult or patronise me, human.” The mage sharply cut him off. “There is no point in mixing words or dancing around the bush. The war is already lost, and you have won. This suicidal attack you pulled off has achieved almost all its goals, and the alliance will forever be crippled because of it.”

“Almost?” James lowered his gun, unsure of what the mage knows or doesn’t know.

“I am Al’dara, the Great Far Seer. I have eyes everywhere in this realm.” She scoffed, “we knew about Operation: Falling Skies for over a month now. We knew you planned to drop your machines into this city and strike our economic sectors and destroy our Spire to disrupt our war effort. We figured out where you would launch your metal birds and how many metal men will drop upon my city. However, I never expected your leaders to read our holy scriptures and act out the prophecy of the Children of the Sky.”

Al’dara grumbled, furious that she was bested by her opponent. “By the time I figured out what was going on, it was already too late. The Spire is destroyed, and you have shattered our resolve. Our soldiers near the front won’t feel the effects now, but they will when they realise fresh troops and supplies are not heading their way.”

“So you knew,” James apathetically responded. “Why not just kill me now? Get it over and done with.”

“Because I want to know why. Why are you doing this? Why go to such lengths to destroy us when peace was an option? This war is senseless, and you know it.”

James paused, calculating if telling her the truth would put the mission at risk. However, after hearing her reveal that the war was already over. He decided to tell her the truth, the whole truth. “It isn’t senseless. This war is part of a well-established doctrine and training exercise to improve the Order Militant’s combat capabilities. Your realm was one of many that we went to war against to test, sacrifice, improve, and modify our tactics and strategies.”

“You would go to war against us to improve your art of war? You would butcher children for what?” Al’dara’s eyes widened, shocked at the dark revolution James provided. “This is heartless, even for you. You don’t even value your lives! How can you improve when all of this is so… barbaric!”

“The life of an individual means nothing compared to that of the entire species. The Order Militant fights wars that wider humanity will never be aware of and never will. This war is a secret, and we keep it that way.” James grunted, taking a few breaths before continuing. “We fight in the shadows so everyone can sleep easily at night. Don’t confuse barbarity with strategic necessity. Your children of today would grow up to be tomorrow’s soldiers and thus must die. Even if I die here today, I have achieved the goals of the Order. Even you have admitted it. The war is over. We have broken the alliance and destroyed any possible chance of any enemy opposing our operations within this realm ever again. Total victory.”

“So this is it? Numbers? Is the genocide of my people just some sort of calculation you manifested in your metal men? What makes you think we are undeserving of life?!” Al’dara screamed. Her eyes glowed as her hand tightened around her staff.

James raised a brow. “Undeserving? No, your kind and the other races in this realm are deserving of life. All sapient life does.”

“Then why?! Why do this to us?”

“Your realm is dying. That is also how we found it,” James heartlessly responded. “It is at the stage where it cannot be healed or halt the decay. It will collapse, and everyone trapped inside will die a painful death. So, ensuring this realm doesn’t go to waste, we went to war to improve our military while we harvest your raw resources to fuel the next one. Once we got what we wanted, we would leave and collapse the realm.”

“You could save us!” She shouted, her eyes becoming watery. “We have a culture, a history. We are a people who can be saved. By the Goddess, we even gave you the hand of peace! You say you are not making our realm go to waste, but you are allowing our history to be erased and our people to die for your own selfish ends. How can you justify this? How can you look at yourself in the mirror and not call yourself a monster? Don’t you have empathy?”

He frowned and took a deep breath. His voice was calm compared to her righteous rage. “This isn’t my first war. I fought in countless realms and did things I am not proud of. At first, I was sick of what I had to do. Early on, I would allow civilians to run away and escape, even if they returned the next day to fight me. Because deep down, I believe they are not a threat and will not bring harm to me if I show them mercy. Then I realise the necessity of these wars, why we have to be harsh against our foes.”

“Then why do this?”

“Because you will do the same. It is why the Order Militant exists.” James bluntly revealed. “If you can invade different realms, you will know there is a chance that one will invade your home. In my case, it is Earth. It is why we have to be brutal, decisive, and relentless in our approach. Mercy and empathy are not weaknesses; they are aspects of humanity that many are proud to have. But the Order Militant can’t have them. We are fighting horrors beyond your understanding and have knowledge of threats that not even we have hope of defeating. It would be a matter of time before something comes to my planet and threatens my home. The Order must prepare for that eventuality. If it means we have to practice against hundreds of innocent realms, so be it. I don’t have hatred in my heart against your kind. But my priorities are with Earth and humanity first. You and I are both means to an end, which is to build up our defences before the time comes.”

“How many worlds have you invaded?” She asked, her eyes becoming normal.

James shrugged, “Don’t know. There is a reason we only give realms serial numbers instead of names. It is easier to catalogue.”

Al’dara shook her head, trying to understand the implications of all of it. The horror that the humans have been doing this sort of thing for far longer than she could imagine. She pictured thousands of realms burned to the ground, billions slaughtered for wars that could easily be avoided, all because they feared the same thing would happen to them.

She understood now. The evil that lurked at the heart of humanity. The drive and determination to survive at all costs turned their species into effective killing machines the likes the universe couldn’t comprehend.

However, the most terrifying part to her wasn’t the casualty slaughter of civilians or the acts of terror inflicted. It was humanity’s apathy toward the war. To her, it was a fight for survival. To them, it was just a ground to test ideas and new weapons. That no matter the outcome, and no matter how hard she tried to fight humanity. They would always win. How could one have hope when the outcome was the same? The death of her realm.

To James’ surprise, she lowered the magical barrier leading to the throne room. “He is inside,” Al’dara said in a tired voice before walking away. To her, the best she could do was accept it and leave. At the back of her mind, she preferred her final days to be with her family rather than organising armies. The king’s death would make people flee, and she hoped they would not go near any human before the time came.

James limped into the throne room. The king, an old man who once had all the power and influence in the world. Hiding behind his throne like a scared child. James chuckled to himself, finding it funny that a king would be afraid of a common soldier. “You know, I need to tell you something.”

“Tell… tell me what?” The king stuttered.

“I spent days reading your scripture, reading your holy text to plan how we can destroy your culture.” James examined his shotgun revolver. “I just figured that none of you know about the oath I took. The Oath of the Order Militant. Perhaps, I should tell you.”

“It goes like this.” The king flinched as James popped the revolver’s cylinder out and emptied all the spent shells to recite his oath. “Hear me, enemies of humanity.” He loaded his first shell. “For too long had we feared our Earth, seas and skies.” He loaded his second shell. “Thus, with my creed, I shall defend the relics and the weak.” James spun the cylinder to load his third round. “And by the Orders of the Militant, I swore an oath to sacrifice my body and soul.” After he loaded his fourth and fifth shell, he pressed his revolver against the king’s head.

“For I, Captain James Skichild. Have proclaimed your demise.”