Dimensional Travels: World at War-Chapter 75: Adaptation

Prince Heith sat on his throne as four generals kneeled in front of him. He took a sip from a wine glass as he looked out at the moon. "Did you know that this world was origninally built by a being called ’The Cardinal Phoenix’? The Phoenix grew tired of seeing mortals warring constantly and killing each other in droves, so he created this world." Heith stood up, he set the wine glass on his desk as he walked over to the window. "You mortals are so pitiful. I send you with one tenth of our forces, and you barely made it past mountains."

He turned to his guards. "Kill them."

"You’re Highne-" The schlick of a blade cut off the screams of his former generals. Their heads decapitated. Heith didn’t turn around, merely waving his hand. "See to it that the mess is cleaned. I will address the new generals myself tomorrow. Have that fool Misrebeth report her findings of those wretched machines."

He left the room, and the guard looked down at the fear stricken faces of the former generals. "Is this really my life now?" He whispered, his eyes gazing out the window and to the sky.

Heith entered the next room. His eyes narrowed as he focused on a man sitting with two Elf slaves in his arms. "I do not see what you enjoy in those half breeds." Heith said coldly.

The man laughed, grabbing one of the slave’s thighs. "In my world, elves were like the pinnacle of fantasy. Supple thighs with juicy breasts, and all of them have natural beauty. Plus..."

His eyes glint with malicious insanity. "Their screams are music to my ears."

Heith shook his head, looking at the man with pure disgust.

"Whatever, otherworlder. Remember to not soil the couches with fluids, blood or otherwise." The man grinned while grabbing the slaves again, their panicked yelps filled the silent room.

"Whatever you say chief."

"So, what’s up? You must have looked up from your desk for a reason."

Heith crossed his arms. "You and your kin will infiltrate the new additions to that Riemskin territory. Blend in with the otherworlder factions, and bring me information."

The man nodded. "Mm. Seems fun."

Heith shook his head. "And no killing."

"Yet."

After Heith left the room, Mickey held his two slaves. He admired their features before a memory flashed in his eyes:

Blood dripped down her face, the knife embedded into her skull a reminder of how weak Mickey is. "No!" He cried desperately...

But it was too late. His lover was gone.

The world erupted as he held her body, tears running down his cheeks.

The elves noticed the fluctuations in his temperament and backed away slowly. "Master?" The blonde whispered. "Is everything okay?"

Mickey nodded, coming to. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Yes. Come on. We gotta tell the others what we’re gonna do."

He grabbed his phone while walking to the next room, sending out a mass text to the group of heroes he lead. "Meeting at 3pm. Be there."

No one talked about the cracks in the floor where Mickey had been standing.

Eric stood in front of a now destroyed Ant Hill. Ant Corpses piled all around a large motorpool, and Eric rubbed his face in his hands.

"So you’re telling me... that it was so bad..."

"You had to call in air support?"

The Lieutenant Colonel nodded. "Yes, Master Sergeant."

Eric nodded and sighed. This battalion hadn’t had any weapons, and their vehicles weren’t loaded. The commander had been smart when he realized what had happened, and ordered all the men to load into their vehicles and shelter in place.

"Alright, you now fall under Task force 6-8. At a later date, you will move your vehicles to Hood Hill."

The Colonel nodded.

As they were finishing up the final task orders for movement, Eric recieved a call. It was Milano.

"Dryer, have that battalion move to Hood Hill now. If there are deadline vehicles, have them rigged with C-4."

Eric paused. "Yes sir."

After hanging up the phone, he turned to the commander. "We need to move now. Priority will be on operational vehicles. Deadlined vehicles will be rigged with C-4 and destroyed."

The commander nodded, understanding the urgency of the situation.

Soldiers were woken up and the motorpool became a swarm of activity. The smell of hot fuel permeated in the air as Abrams and bradleys roared to life. A quarter of the vehicles had to be left behind, and Eric took one last look at the motorpool.

"Blow it."

He got in his truck, and began driving towards Hood Hill.

Milano was waiting for Eric at his office.

Eric walked in, closing the door. "What’s going on now, sir?" A sigh escaping his lips as he sat across from Milano.

The General didn’t answer, turning on the TV. A news station from Austin was broadcasting the image of a burnt out area at the Hoover dam. Vegas Police had four people in hand cuffs.

Milano turned the TV off.

"We have to reinforce Hoover Dam now." Milano said, rubbing his face. "Over the last few days, there has been public outcry from across the country, saying that we are ’keeping Austin’ hostage."

Eric leaned back, folding his arms as he stared at the General. "They think we’re doing this?"

"Some do."

Eric held his hand up to his face, rubbing his chin. "I don’t think reinforcing Hoover with ’us’ is a good idea, sir." He pulled out his phone, looking at Social media posts.

"What if we hired someone?"

Milano looked up at him, he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Why?" His left eyebrow arching.

Eric chuckled at the reaction. "I finally broke you, old man."

Milano waved his hand. "Ignore that. Tell me why you think we should hire someone."

Eric folded his hands on the desk. "The public doesn’t trust us, so we hire someone they do trust. And we will stay back with a QRF force on overwatch."

Milano paused, considering the logic. "Who would we hire?"

Eric held up his phone:

"Veteran Executive Tactical Service."

Milano facepalmed. "Could they not have been any more subtle?"

He then leaned forward, looking Eric directly in the eye. "What problems do you forsee happening?"

"I think you already know, sir. That is why QRF will stand very close and monitor. They may be vets, but money still talks."

Once finally at home, Eric collapsed with a sigh. He could hear Mia tending to Liara while Jessica was cooking dinner. She turned, smiling at him while stirring the pot. "Hey Dad! Liam wants to know if he can come over for dinner? I told him I’d ask you." Eric let out a weary sigh and nodded.

"Sure. Tell him he can come over, but you two stay out here. I don’t want loud noises waking your sister."

"Dad!" She groaned as Mia walked out chuckling. She sat next to Eric, handing him Liara. "Hello love. Was work okay?"

Eric sighed as he held Liara. His worries seemed to fade as he stroked her ears gently. The baby cooed. "It was another day in paradise." He answered with a chuckle. He then turned to his wife. "The fractures are getting worse. It seems like every fracture solves a problem, and then the next brings two more with it."

Mia nodded, trailing her fingers along his back. "Go clean up, dinner will be ready soon."

Eric sat in the shower for nearly half an hour. His hands leaned against the wall as he let the water wash over his body. He barely felt when the water got cold. Liara crying brought him back to his senses. He looked down at his hands, clenching them. "None of that." He growled to himself, focusing on the sounds of his family chatting and the clinking of plates.

I gotta make sure that ’boy’ ain’t getting too handsy.

After stepping out of the shower and dressing in shorts as well as a tank top, Eric joined the dinner table. Mia shot him a worried side glance, but didn’t bring it up. He squeezed her hand as Jessica was put on Baby duty with Liam.

"It’s good training for the future!" Eric said with a grin.

Jessica groaned in response, the two teenagers taking Liara to the living room.

Once they were out of sight, Mia turned to him, grabbing his hand. "What’s really going on?"

Eric sighed. He held onto her hands, looking at the teens playing with Liara and turning back to her. "You remember during the first battle we fought together, how I couldn’t protect you...?"

His face dropped, looking down. "I can’t help but worry about something like that happening again. I have folded too many flags, and heard too many wails. I don’t know what i would do if one of you were lost to this war."

"And I don’t want anyone to have to hand you a folded flag."