• Published 15th Jul 2019
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The Centurion Project - TheEighthDayofNight



Elias "Rubrum Aquilae" Bright, the former leader of the Legio I Americana, on the run from his past, finds himself thrown into the conflicts of Equestria.

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Chapter 1: The Anomaly

Journal Entry

Day 1099

I swear, the worst thing about the end of the world is the absolute crushing boredom. What few books I do find are either worn to shreds, have been used as toilet paper, or are fucking romance novels. Why the hell are there so many intact romance novels? Cause that’s what I’m thinking about in the day to day, fucking romance. Right. Gotta say though, romance novels make for excellent firewood. Frog legs never tasted so good. Still, besides burning that scourge off the face of the earth, there is absolutely nothing to fucking do at the end of a day. I can’t carry what few books I do want to read, and this notebook only has so many pages to write on, so I don’t want to fill it with bullshit. Whatever, gonna close this entry out to save space. I swear that if the next house I find has romance novels in it, I’m gonna burn it to the ground and dance on its ashes.

Elias breathed heavily into his hand, trying vainly to remain silent while he caught his breath. The miles had not been kind on his worn body, and despite the burning in his chest, he wished only that he had more energy to keep running. As he peered through the dead shrubs that were his makeshift cover, a pair of torches stabbed through the muggy night, their light weaving and bobbing between the blasted trees. As they grew closer, the sound of panting covered up his own hard breathing.

A pair of skinny men in makeshift armor burst through the trees, then paused, their faces contorted with anger and exhaustion. The larger of the two began to look around while the smaller one nearly collapsed to his knees, hands gripping his chest.

“How does that bastard move so fucking fast in all of that damn armor? Shouldn’t we be able to see his shiny ass for fucking miles?” the small one said through desperate breaths.

“Maybe if you would shut up for a hot minute, we could try to hear his clanking, but every five steps you either start howling like a dying dog, or start bitching like a slave.” the larger one replied.

His eyes scanned the trees, passing briefly over Elias’ hiding spot. The man seemed oblivious to his presence. Elias shifted his hand down to the gladius hanging on his left hip, a plan forming in his mind. If he was fast enough…

“Hey, don’t get on my shit because you were too stupid to catch the fucker when he was still in the camp.”

The small man pointed a finger at the larger man accusingly.

“It was your watch! You were supposed to be watching! Yet the fucker still got by and lit the boss’s place on fire! You ask me, she should whip you to teach you a lesso-!”

The large man grabbed the smaller one by the throat and lifted him into the air. Both torches dropped to the ground, extending the shadows. Elias tensed, balancing on the balls of his feet. His eye twitched as he licked his cracked and bloody lips. The large man shook the smaller one viciously.

“Another word out of you and I tell the boss that you got your throat slit by the wanna-be roman," the large man threatened, "or maybe I tell her the truth and she rewards me for wringing your neck, you stupid worm.”

Elias moved fast, his gladius slipping from its sheathe as he sprang from his cover. The small man’s eyes widened, and his mouth flapped, trying desperately to convey a warning around the larger man’s crushing grip. Too late. The sharp steel of Elias' gladius tore through the back of the large man’s neck, and stabbed through his throat, a spray of blood covering the small man’s face. In one smooth motion, Elias ripped the sword out of the gaping wound, and dipped around the larger man, his sword stabbing through the smaller man’s ribs as he dropped from the large man’s grip. A wet gasp escaped the small man’s throat as he slid from the sword, collapsing to the ground in a growing puddle of blood.

Elias said nothing as the two men bled out silently. He swiftly grabbed their dropped torches and approached the large man, whose eyes had already begun to glaze over. Elias kicked the man’s hands away from his throat, then extinguished one of the torches in his neck. He grimaced, his nose turning against the smell of cooking meat, but he remained silent as the light died down and darkness crept in. He dropped the smoldering torches into the crimson puddle, letting them sizzle as he rolled them, making sure that all of the embers were dead.

As darkness once again became absolute, Elias bent over and briefly cleaned the blood from his sword on the worn clothes of the larger man. As he sheathed the blade, a whimper came from a few feet away. Elias squinted and rose quickly to his feet, barely making out a crawling form on the ground. Elias drew his dagger from its sheathe at the small of his back and approached the form quickly. The man reached up a weak hand in defense, which Elias batted away. He plunged the dagger deep into the base of the man's neck. Elias gazed at the corpse briefly before his eyes darted upward, searching for any more light sources amongst the trees.

Upon seeing nothing, Elias moved as quietly as possible back to his hiding spot. He shifted the dead brush aside and retrieved his pack and scutum. Elias slid the heavy pack onto his back, and after ensuring it was balanced properly, slid the large rectangular shield over his arm.

Elias had only a split second to bring said shield up as he dropped into a crouch. Two arrows thudded into the sturdy wood while a third glanced off his helmet, leaving a long scratch along its side. Blinding, artificial light filled the clearing, and Elias blinked rapidly to get his eyes to adjust to the bright whiteness.

“Take your time Mr. Eagle! Believe me when I say I have made plenty of room in my busy schedule just for you,” said a female voice.

Elias scowled, but said nothing. He glanced behind him, noticing another arrow sticking out his pack, as well as two men with compound bows standing at the end of the white light, their faces blank. Both had arrows nocked and pointed directly at his head. Elias assumed that similar men were stationed around the light source, with the source of the voice likely standing right behind it.

“Poke that big feathered head of yours out Mr. Eagle, we are all very excited to see the face of the great “legend” himself,” the female said, her tone mocking him.

Elias slowly rose to his feet, keeping his shield tight to his chest. He squinted at the source of the light; what he thought looked like a spotlight wired to a car battery. A tall woman with short brown hair stepped in front of the light, casting a shadow over Elias, allowing him to see his ambushers properly for the first time. There were at least twenty that he could see, all wearing black armor that looked more protective and uniform than the rags the first two had been wearing. Each and every one of them also had some sort of ranged weapon, most with bows, though at least two had throwing knives. Unfortunately, every single one of those weapons was pointed at him, including the shining revolver pointed at his chest by the brown-haired woman.

She smiled at him.

“I take from the grim expression on your face that you have finally come to terms with how absolutely fucked you are.”

Elias didn’t reply. She seemed to take his silence as confirmation and laughed loudly. She took a step forward, and the rest of the ambushers tensed up, as if expecting Elias to take a leap forward to cut her down. The woman noticed and waved them away.

“Oh, do relax gentlemen, we have Mr. Eagle here at our mercy. If any of you miss at this distance you should be more afraid of what happens if I catch you, rather than our new friend.”

She turned back to face Elias, her smile still stretched wide over her face. She rubbed her chin and her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

“I have to say, I expected you to be older. Oh, I’m sure you have the scars to be an old battle-hardened soldier, and the death glare, you have that down pat, very intimidating.”

She paused and tapped her chin with her revolver.

“But you don’t have any lines on your face. Hell, if I was a few years older you could probably be my son. My tall, strong, attractive son.”

Her eyes seemed to scan up and down Elias’ body in a hungry fashion. Her grin seemed to momentarily grow wider, before disappearing all together. She sighed.

“As it stands however, you are no child of mine, and while I would love to see how you handle in bed;” her eyes became momentarily hungry again before her face contorted in anger, “you burned my bed, as well as my house, and that has not only made me look weak in front of the other raider bosses, but as made me look weak in front of my own men. That I will not abide.”

The revolver lifted, and she pulled back the hammer.

“You have done me a small kindness by already executing the idiot responsible for letting you in my camp in the first place, so, I will return the favor. Drop your weapons, and surrender, I will make your death quick and only a little painful. Resist and I cut you open like you did to those morons in your little village.”

Elias growled softly, drawing a sadistic laugh from the woman. She took another step closer.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out about that Mr. Eagle? I don’t know what kind of fairytale you have been living in, playing dress up, hunting down the big mean raider tribes, but let me state this clearly so that it might shatter your little bubble. You are not any kind of hero. You are not noble, and you have saved nobody. All of your little friends are dead, and by the end of tonight, you will be too. I have heard of the work you did back east, and I wish that I had caught you fresh off of that little rampage.”

Her grin returned, and her eyes showed Elias a mean sadistic streak that she was only barely holding back.

Elias slid his hand into one of the pouches on his belt. He slid his forefinger through the pin.

“But unfortunately,” she snarled, “you have decided to play pretend and hunt down my men. That ends now.”

She took a third step forward.

“Take off the sword, drop the shield, and kneel.”

Elias paused for a second; it wouldn’t be convincing if he immediately gave in, and then he slid the scutum off of his arm and dropped it to the ground with a thud, the handles facing up. A small cylinder went unnoticed as he dropped it with his right hand in the shadow of his legs, the noise of the shield covering its fall. The woman grinned.

“Good boy, now the sw-…”

The world rang as Elias slammed his eyes shut and ducked, his foot popping his shield up. He felt the whistle of arrows flying over his head, and then he was off, sprinting toward the two bowmen that had been standing behind him. Drawing his gladius as he ran, he slammed the one on the left with his shield, the satisfying crunch of bone cutting through the ringing in his ears. Elias cut a quick line across the second man’s neck, and the man collapsed trying to hold both the wound at his throat, as well as his blinded eyes and ringing ears.

Elias saw a bullet impact a tree as he sprinted past, the sound of the gunshot only barely catching up as he sprinted away. He could tell his hearing was coming back when he heard the woman cry out;

“You fucking morons! Get after him!”

Branches slapped Elias’ face as he ran. He kept his shield close to his body to make sure it didn’t snag on any of the passing brush. Behind him, feet pounded desperately, and the raiders cried out in pain as they blindly stumbled in the dark.

Elias tried to keep his breaths deep as he ran, but he knew he wouldn’t make it far before he needed to rest. Ignoring the fact that he was carrying almost forty pounds of gear on his back alone, he was already exhausted. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he had slept for longer than an hour, and he hadn’t eaten anything other than moldy deer jerky and water for the last three nights. He needed an out fast if he wanted to survive.

Arrows began to fly overhead as the raiders got their bearings. Elias dipped under a low hanging branch and winced as an arrow embedded itself in the wood where his neck had just been. He didn’t dare stop to dwell on it, and he sprinted onward.

As the raiders began to gain on his heels, Elias noticed a dim light in front of him. Drawing one of the two fragmentation grenades from his belt, he pulled the pin and dropped it in his trail. A moment later, an explosion and a cry split the air. Elias sprinted on toward the light, hoping the downed raider would by him a few precious seconds.

Elias burst through a break in the trees, and the light grew brighter, emanating from over the side of a ledge. Elias glanced back at the approaching torchlight for only a second before he approached the cliff-side. His heart sank as he looked down.

At the end of a thirty-foot drop was the green, writhing light waves of an anomaly. Elias had only seen one in his life, but it paled in comparison to the one before him. The anomaly he had seen had been the size of a fist and had floated harmlessly by as he hid in a tree stump to stay out of its way. Even a small one like that had lit up the clearing he had been crawling through. This anomaly was easily the size of a bus and gave off a sickening green glow, like the light it was made from was poisonous. The landscape around the entity was blasted and charred, with no life anywhere near it. Elias had heard many stories about the effect’s anomalies could have. No two did the same thing. Not one of those stories had said anything about the effects being positive. Melted flesh, people turned to ash, even one wild story of a man vomiting up his lungs. Ultimately, it was not the miracle he had been hoping for.

Elias spun around; his shield raised to protect his chest. His gladius rested on the steel frame; its point aimed at the woman as she burst through the trees with her raiders in tow. The raiders quickly set up another arc, their arrows pointed at Elias’ head once more. The woman glared at him, her eyes promising a long, painful death.

“Nowhere left to run now,” she growled. “Last chance, drop your weapons.”

Elias remained silent, trying to think of a plan, any plan. The only thing he could come up with was to flip his middle finger up at the woman.

The woman snarled, her face a brilliant shade of red, visible even in the dim torchlight.

“Kill him. Now.”

Elias roared and began to charge, but was stopped as an arrow embedded itself into his chest plate, knocking him off balance. A second arrow found its way into his right shoulder, and a third bit into his calf. Elias crouched behind his shield and ripped the arrow from the armor protecting his shoulder. Two more arrows thudded into his shield. Taking a firm grip on his gladius, Elias began to get to his feet, poking his head above his shield. He stood just in time to see the head of the sledgehammer that came swinging into his chest. His scutum took the worst of the hit, but the force of the swing was more than enough to shove him off his feet. Elias staggered backward, desperately trying to regain his balance, only to find there was no ground under his right leg.

Elias cried out as he fell from the cliff face. The green light of the anomaly below seemed to grow infinitely brighter as he fell into its sickly embrace. Green light arced above his head, and what felt like a million fires crept across his skin, his very soul ablaze with pain. His cries of shock quickly turned to screams of pain. As his body twisted and bent out of shape, Elias watched darkness creep in, as if in slow motion. The ground approached all too quickly however, and Elias welcomed the peace of death.

Author's Note:

EDIT 2022: Here is the First chapter in the official Centurion Project Reading

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