March 5, 2018
4 months after the Ark Event, one week after the event in San Diego
Hopkinsville, Kentucky, United States
In the parking lot of a ruined Wal-Mart in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, twenty Army Rangers from the 75th Regiment were dig in deep inside as they fired outside, while M1-A2 Abrams tanks kept firing shells at the oncoming swarm of Cryptids, which had already over run four tanks, and destroyed three M113 APC's, which were carrying more Army Rangers.
"Ramirez! Get on the .50cal, we'll cover your advance!" One of the Army Rangers, Sergeant Foley, shouted at Private Ramirez, who was concentrating his fire at the Gargoyles shooting down spikes at the Abrams tanks outside, but having no effect on its depleted-uranium armor.
"Roger that, I'm moving!" Ramirez shouted as loaded a new magazine into his M16A4 and sprinted outside the Wal-Mart towards a pile of sandbags with a mounted .50 cal Browning behind it. Scout and Hunter Cryptids advanced towards him, but the other Rangers opened fire, moving them down as Ramirez leaped and landed behind the sandbags. Then, a frantic voice on the radio was heard.
"Be advised, this is Badger 2-3! We are being over run, I say again, we are being over run! We need support!" Shouted the gunner of one of the Abrams tanks. Ramirez peeked over the sandbags and saw several Hunter and Phantom Cryptids slashing away at the top of the Abrams tank, noticing that they had ripped off its 7.62mm coaxal M240 machine gun.
"Alright, take them out!" Shouted an Army Ranger. Ramirez then got his hands on the .50 cal, pulled the lever back, and started firing the Cryptids onto of the Abrams, easily mowing them down, and giving the Abrams a new orange paint job. He had an iron grip on the Browning, but it started steaming as he let go of the turret and brought up his M16A4, taking down some Scout Cryptids that were trying to flank him by climbing onto the trees to the right of him.
"Badger 2-5 Gunner! Behind the wreckage of the APC! Five Rhino's!" Sergeant Foley shouted of the radio. Then, one of the Abrams, callsign Badger 2-5, turned its turret towards a wreckage of one of the APC's, noticing five Rhino Crypid's slowly getting up from the ground.
"Target acquired!" The gunner responded over the radio, confirming it had sights on the designated target.
"FIRE!" Foley shouted. The Abrams then shot out a 120mm high explosive shell from its XM-256 Smoothbore cannon, connecting with one of the Rhino's, and killing all five within the explosion.
"Targets destroyed!" The gunner shouted as it turned its turret to a large group of Hunter Cryptids, and opened fire at the group with its .50 cal M2 machine gun.
"Alright! Everyone, move up with the tanks!" Foley shouted. Ramirez then made his way towards the other Rangers, who were jumping out and running through the parking lot, shooting away at the advancing Cryptids, taking cover behind the ruins of cars and tanks as they kept moving.
"Shit! Ancestors!" One of the Abrams gunners shouted. Foley looked up and saw three Ancestors floating their way towards the tanks. Behind them was a swarm of Cryptids, ranging from Scouts to Rhinos, and were moving along with them at a slow pace. Then, one of the Ancestors lifted up its right hand, forming a black hole in its hand, and launched it at one of the Abrams at a surprisingly fast speed. The projectile connected with the Abrams, imploding, then exploding, turning the tank into nothing but melting, burning, hot pieces of metal.
"Fuck! We lost Badger 2-3! Open fire!" Foley shouted. Him and the other Rangers rose up from cover as opened fire. Their M16's and M4 Carbines hitting the Ancestors hard with their armor-piercing rounds, making it shriek and lose its focus. It then rose its arm up again, and pointed a finger at the direction of the Rangers and the remaining tanks. The Cryptids all screamed as they advanced towards them.
"Shit.." Foley thought as he aimed his Scar-H at the Cryptids, then shouted over the radio.
"Open fire!"
The tanks and Rangers were about to start shooting with everything they had, until they heard the rapid sound of rotor wings in the distance.
"Yo! Up there! On the right side of the street!" Ramirez shouted, pointing a finger at the right side of the sky. The Rangers looked up, then spotted some things that they would recognize anywhere.
"Little Birds! Incomi-" Foley was cut off as the Little Birds opened fire at the Cryptids below them, firing off their M134 Gatling Guns from their machine gun pods below the wings, along with their two missile pods, which contained twelve Hellfire ATGM missiles. The Rangers covered their ears as the Little Birds commenced their strafe run, the 7.62mm rounds from the miniguns tearing them to shreds, while the Hellfire missiles streaked down towards the Ancestors, making them take more damage as their bodies were torn apart, sending a lot of pieces flying towards the sky, along with gushes of orange blood that fell back down to the ground, covering the asphalt below the Cryptid's feet. The Little Birds then disappeared behind a tree line to the left. Then, Foley's radio crackled to life again.
"Be advised, this is Starstreak One-Niner, part of the 160'th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. You missed us?" The pilot of one of the Little Birds asked over the radio. The Rangers whooped in happiness. Foley remembered his time back in Syria where he and his squad of Rangers and Marine Recon were fighting alongside the alleyways and streets, being supported by the infamous Little Bird pilots from the 160'th SOAR.
"You have no idea how happy we are to see your fucking asses, One-Niner!" Foley said over the radio. He then loaded in a fresh magazine into his Scar-H, but noticed that one of the Ancestors was slowly getting up from the pile of dead Cryptid corpses. It then looked towards one of the Little Birds, formed another black hole projectile and launched it at the Little Birds.
Starstreak One-Niner's P.O.V
Seven minutes earlier, Fort Campbell, Kentucky
"Get in the Little Birds! Go! Go!" Shouted Sergeant Mike H. Preston as he raised his modified AR-15 at the oncoming swarm of Scout Cryptids and fired. The .50 Beowulf rounds tearing into their skulls. He was grateful for the immense amount of stopping power these rounds contained.
"C'mon, Preston! Let's go! They can hold 'em off!" Shouted Captain Randy P. Treston from inside the Little Bird as he was prepared to take off. Mike then shot off the last of his rounds as he climbed inside and put on his helmet.
"Alright, let's go!" Mike shouted. Randy then lifted the Little Bird off the ground rapidly as the Cryptids lunged at it, but missed by inches. Mike then looked down at the scenery below him.
"Jesus Christ..." He said under his breath as he looked below. He and Randy were part of the 160'th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, or SOAR. Nicknamed the 'Night Stalkers', they were stationed in Fort Campbell, Kentucky, which they just took off from. The base was being heavily over run by Cryptids, and several of their aircraft were destroyed during the battle. Mike saw several Army Rangers and Delta Operators down below, fighting with everything they had to fend off the Cryptids. He then saw a Humvee get swarmed and toppled over as it tried to drive to a safer place and provide fire with its M2 .50 cal machine gun.
"C'mon.. we still gotta go to help our guys at Hopkinsville!" Randy said as he flew the helicopter away from the base. Alongside them were two other Little Bird helicopters, with pilots also part of the 160'th SOAR. They then flew towards Hopkinsville, where they were reported that a group of Army Rangers and M1A2 Abrams tanks were stuck near a destroyed Wal-Mart.
"Fuck dude.. we just lost the entire base in less than twenty minutes! Fuck!" Mike said as he put a fist down on his knee in anger.
"I know, but there's nothing we can do for them now. We still got a job to do, and damn it, we're doing it!" Randy snapped back. They then flew the rest of the way without saying a word, until one of the other pilots spoke over the radio.
"Starstreak One-Niner, this is Starstreak Two-Six. I got a visual on the Rangers and tanks below. And a huge swarm of Cryptids accompanied by three Ancestors; requesting permission for gun run, how copy?"
"This is Starstreak One-Niner. You are clear for gun run on those Cryptids." Randy responded back.
"Understood. All Little Birds; commence gun run on Cryptids below."
The Little birds then got into a triangle formation as they tilted their helicopters forward and flew thirty feet above the ground. They then all saw the swarm of Cryptids advancing towards the Rangers.
"All Little Birds, rain down hell." Randy said over the radio. With that, he looked through through the visor on his helmet, and activated FLIR imaging. He then aimed the crosshairs over the Cryptids, pressed the trigger on the sticks, and heard the miniguns spin up, and open fire, sending a volley of explosive rounds down towards the Cryptids. With his left hand, he occasionally pressed another button, launching one missile from each side of the Little Bird's rocket pods and down towards the ground. The Little Bird shook a bit as he held down the trigger until they all flew over the Cryptids. Or what was left of them.
"Be advised, this is Starstreak One-Niner, part of the 160'th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. You missed us?" Mike said over the radio, changing frequencies to communicate with the Rangers below.
"You have no idea how happy we are to see you fucking asses, One Niner!" A male's voice came over the radio. Mike chuckled as Randy turned his Little Bird to commence another gun run.
"Alright, we're coming in for another gun run. Stand by." Randy said as he got into formation with the other Little Birds. They started approaching the area again, until Mike noticed a black-hole like projectile soaring towards them.
"Shit! Twelve o' clock! Evasive maneuvers! Oh SHI-!" Mike shouted. The other Little Birds swayed left and right, easily avoiding the projectile, but Randy could not move, since he wasn't about to risk a collision with one of the other Little Birds. His eyes widened as the projectile connected with the Little Bird, enveloping it in a dark-purple haze, then imploding.