Texas, U.S. – March 4, 1960
"KEEP FIRING! DON'T LET THEM ADVANCE!"
Soldiers crouched in their foxholes, sweat streaming down their faces as the acrid scent of gunpowder filled the air. Their machine guns rattled relentlessly, spewing volleys of bullets at the advancing monster horde.
GRAAAARGH!
The creatures howled as they charged forward, grotesque figures moving with terrifying speed.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The deafening rhythm of gunfire roared through the battlefield, brass casings clinking as they hit the dirt.
"THERE ARE TOO MANY OF THEM! WE NEED AIR SUPPORT NOW!"
Captain Harris squinted toward the front lines, his heart pounding as the monstrous army pressed closer. He turned sharply to the radio operator.
"JAMES! WE NEED A NAPALM STRIKE, NOW!"
James, fingers trembling yet precise, frantically worked the radio, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"TANGO-ONE, TANGO-ONE, THIS IS BRAVO-TWO! WE'VE GOT A MASSIVE ENEMY PUSH—REQUESTING NAPALM STRIKE ON GRID 12-35-58, OVER!"
The radio crackled.
"ROGER THAT, BRAVO-TWO. STAND BY."
The minutes stretched like hours. Then, the distant roar of jet engines rumbled across the sky, growing louder. The ground trembled as a squadron of F-4 Phantom IIs closed in, their afterburners igniting the night.
"PHANTOM ONE TO BRAVO-TWO. READY TO ENGAGE. CONFIRM TARGET, OVER."
Harris took a deep breath, gripping his rifle as he looked at his men.
"BRING THE FIRE, PHANTOM ONE! TARGET THE LEFT FLANK—GRID 12-35-58! TURN THEM TO ASH!"
"ROGER THAT, BRAVO-TWO. NAPALM RUN INBOUND. CLEAR OUT!"
VVRRRROOOOOOM!
The Phantoms banked sharply, diving low. The whine of missile locks filled the air as they aligned their payloads.
"Bombs in two, bombs in two…"
WHOOSH—THUD—KABOOM!
A wave of fire engulfed the battlefield, consuming the monstrous army. The air thickened with the scent of burning flesh, and the once-relentless creatures fell silent.
"SPLASH ONE! ENEMY DOWN. RETURNING TO BASE."
BOOM!
A sudden explosion tore through the sky.
"W-WHAT THE—MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MY LEFT WING—"
KABOOM!
Something—fast and unseen—struck Phantom One, sending the jet spiraling downward in a fiery wreck.
Captain Harris's breath caught in his throat.
"What… What the hell just happened?"
A sharp gasp pulled his attention.
"C-Captain!"
James stood frozen, his eyes wide in horror as a monstrous figure loomed behind him—its fiery spear already embedded in his chest. Blood spilled from his lips as he staggered.
Before Harris could react, another beast moved in from behind.
"Ugh… Ugh… Ahhh—!"
Pain tore through him as claws sank deep into his back.
Somewhere, in the midst of chaos, a man sat hunched over, breath ragged, his hands frantically scribbling on a sheet of paper. His wounds bled freely, but he didn't stop.
"I'm running out of time… so I'll keep this short."
His hand trembled as he pressed the pen harder against the page.
"I have fused the blood of a Nyxborn and an Angel. I will send this DNA 47 years into the future. Noah, when the time is right, assemble a team of extraordinary warriors. Find this weapon… and use it to end this futile war."
He signed it with the last of his strength.
Best regards, Atherius.
And then—
POOF!
He vanished. Never to be seen again.