War of the Fallen Race

by PegasusKlondike

Final Nights

From the beginning, Aaron Patterson had always felt insignificant in his life. No teacher ever looked on him with a light in their eyes, eager to teach the bright young student. No girl had ever looked upon him with anything but repulsion and disdain. Even his parents foretold a doom of mediocrity to which he would be banished. He strove every day of his life to mean something to the world. But the world never cared to notice. And now, nearly a year after The Surge turned humanity on its head, when mankind itself questioned its own significance in the face of a power greater than themselves, he had found his importance. He was the one, the one human being on the planet with the capability of stopping the will of a god. No single human life had ever mattered more than his did now. If he made a wrong move, humanity would die.

Looking out the window of the laboratory, he gazed upon the endless sea of tents and barracks that housed the greatest remaining concentration of human warriors on planet Earth. Over 200,000 of them, all dedicated to this single cause of reclaiming their world. A single breathing machine of war bent on conquest and craving revenge against the strange creatures that had overthrown their global empire. He looked down at his hands, these hands had just this day finished the ultimate weapon, these were the hands of the destroyer and the corrupter, bound to rescue mankind from annihilation, or send them to infinite darkness. From this day forward, he could never look upon himself as a part of the swarming sea of his kind below, never live with the guilt of destroying the beautiful gift of life that had been bestowed on so many creatures so suddenly.

"I am the Alpha and the Omega, The First and the Last, the Beginning and the End." he whispered to the world. With tomorrow's rising sun, the Army of Man would march from their dread citadel of Stronghold to meet the creatures of the Earth in the battle that would decide the fate of both sides. He looked at the device sitting on his workbench, a long shape like a small cannon with a box attached to the end and attached to that were cables that ran to a power supply mounted in a backpack. It had a look like a mini-gun, but with only one barrel that sat motionless. Theoretically, it could fire four shots before being completely depleted. It was Lucifer, the device complemented by a set of six Tesla Towers, currently being assembled below on various forms of transport. The towers would act as containers, and Lucifer would destroy the source, ensuring Man's victory over the god who dared defy him. And even if Man failed tomorrow, he still had Lazarus to fall back on.

His deep thoughts were broken by the entrance of General Winters, the man he hoped most would die ingloriously on the battlefield tomorrow. "Well, it turns out you aren't a little traitorous shit after all. I like the design, but I had hoped for something a bit bigger."

"You have your weapon, now I get out of this."

"And go where? If you hadn't noticed, everything that isn't human out there would carve out your eyes for their own amusement. I think I have a better use for you, you will oversee the use of the weapon tomorrow. Operation Hammerstrike will depend on you."

"No."

"No? Aaron my boy, you don't have a choice." and with that he left, chuckling to his own madness.

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They were ready, as ready as they could ever be. Cloud Hoof lay with his family, high above the forests and the mountain that had drawn him and his kind here months before. His spies had reported that the humans had lined up all of their forces at Stronghold. Tomorrow they would march, march here and destroy everything he had worked to build. Below lights flickered at campfires and huts that contained families like his own, families now just trying to build a life for their children. But there also flickered the forge lights of the Diamond Dogs, who had worked tirelessly to outfit the entire army in metal. The Dogs were little more than mercenaries, but they would play their part in the battle. On occasion a great gout of flame would burst from a dragon clearing debris.

"Watch out Cloud, she's coming to you." Starshine said.

Cloud Hoof turned to catch Hurricane, his beloved daughter and his reason for being. He gently grasped her in his mouth and placed the squirming foal back into her cloud formed crib. She protested her imprisonment, but a quick kiss sent the filly into giggles. "Starshine, before first light tomorrow I want you to take Hurricane and go as far away from here as possible. I am afraid for both of you, join the herd of those others fleeing and don't look back." He looked to the peak of the mountain, it seemed to glow with anticipation of the coming event, having some trump card up its cosmic sleeve.

His wife rose to join him as he overlooked their home. "Don't give them the satisfaction of fear Cloud. I want you to make me a promise. Promise me you will come back to us."

He said not a word, instead choosing to embrace the green mare who had made him whole and had made this great adventure of life worth the risk of breaking free from humanity.

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Dinner call, all the base's original contingent of soldiers gathered in the mess hall, including all scientific staff. Patterson entered the cafeteria, solemn and silent. He noticed that only a few men or women actually ate, though the KP had gone all out with the food tonight. Any other day like this would have to have been a holiday or freezer clean out. At the head table sat General Winters and his direct subordinates, the General boisterously laughing and filling his gullet. He was the loudest man overall. Patterson grabbed a tray, filling it with anything that looked edible. Sitting at the science team's designated table, he set down his tray and didn't touch it.

He looked around him, soldiers and scientists sat solemnly, like they were on death row. Others held rosaries and other religious emblems, praying to a god that would not answer. Still others simply wept, they knew what would happen tomorrow morning. Not a single man scorned another for showing weakness, and not a single damn was given about personal differences. Like cattle to slaughter they would march tomorrow to fight the very spirit of the Earth.

That night, military desertions ran an all time high. Any man who walked through the encampment would hear sounds of forced camaraderie, the clink of glasses that contained expensive and rare spirits, the laugh and compassion of a man telling his life story to those who would listen. If he listened hard enough, the observer might hear the subtle sounds of two embraced in passionate love, be it holy or illegal in many states. Others chose to gamble away everything they had saved for the future. Many chose not to live that night, but stayed in their tents, cleaning weapons for Operation Hammerstrike, loading magazines and sharpening knives. The sounds of weeping emanated from several barracks, but many fled that night. Fled the base that had become all that stood for cruelty and ignorance in the world. Any makeshift chapels were packed with those wishing to confess their sins or seek favor from God.

Jets would not fly tomorrow, though their assistance would have made the battle vastly one sided. Simply because they had run out of the extremely specific fuel for jet fighters and bombers in the past operations of the year. Tanks could run on anything that burned, and thus would take the frontline. Small vehicles like APC's and Humvees could run on fairly common fuels and would carry the massive army to the field of battle. The six unassembled miniature Tesla towers stood silent vigil on the backs of flat bed trucks, ready to fulfill their duty to the letter.

Not many slept that night, still fewer knew inner peace with themselves.

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Patterson looked at his weapon, Lucifer. Sitting in his lab chair with a glass of scotch on the rocks, he sipped as he contemplated the evil that sat in front of him. No, it couldn't be evil, inanimate objects couldn't feel or think and thus were incapable of evil. Then he remembered that the Earth itself was conscious and consciously trying to remove them. He finished his scotch and went to bed. For tomorrow, the Earth would stand still to watch the culmination of this war.