Source Error

by GearShift

Chapters

• Program Source_Equestria
• Chaos Generator, a survivors tale
• 2-fort times, when legends meet

Program Source_Equestria

Disclaimer: I do not own Team Fortress 2, Left 4 dead, Half life 2, Portal or My little pony, All rights go to their respective owners, and I take no credit in the creation of these characters, nor do I claim any connection with the actual personel of Valve, all themes displayed are purely fictional.

Image created by me using Gimp image editor

Contains some violence and inappropriate language, but not too sad for all you crybabies out there

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"Brrring....brrring...brrring...click,"

"Valve offices, Gabe Newell speaking"

"Mr. Newell!"

Gabe smiled, it was Rebecca, his receptionist, such a sweet voice, and the same voice that was used for many of his female game characters...

"Ah, Rebecca, what seems to be the problem, not those idiot Treyarch lawyers again, is it?"

"No sir, it's Mr. Walker, he's here to see you, he says it's an emergency,"

Gabe glanced at one of the many television screens mounted on he's wall, sure enough, he could see his old friend Robin, arguing with Rebecca as she talked into the phone,

"Has he said what this big emergency is?"

"No sir, but he insists that he must...Hey!"

From the screen, Gabe could see that Robin had snatched the phone from Rebecca,

"Gabe, we've got some serious shit here, I'm not kidding, drop whatever the f*** it is you're doing and let me in!"

Gabe smiled, Robin was never one for formalities, he was still a street gamer at heart, and left the "softcore, ass-kissing crap" to the other employees. That's what Gabe liked about the man, he knew how to think differently, and that's what makes a difference in his line of work.

"Robin... give the phone back to Rebecca please,"

Gabe saw Rebecca snatch the phone from Robin, shooting him a dirty look,

"Well, you've heard it from him, shall I call security now?

Normally, Gabe would have passed whatever Robin was worried about off as a tiny glitch, or some new idea that didn't matter to him, but there was something about Robin today, the way he paced around the waiting room, a sense of...urgency? Robin was never urgent, or early, or worried, this could be big...

"...alright, send him in,"

On the monitor, Gabe saw Robin push past the burly security guards at his doorway, and and into his office,

"GABE!"

Gabe Newell turned around, Robin barged into the room, dressed in his "work gear" (ripped jeans, TF2 T-shirt and a denim vest), then promptly sat himself down on one of Gabe's prised (not to mention pricy) leather armchairs. Gabe took the other seat, curious to see what could get Robin so worried.

Robin sat there for a second, checking his fingernails as though there were something of incredible interest to him lodged between he's nails. Then he spoke,

"We have a problem."

A simple phrase, Gabe waited patiently for him to continue, which he did after a minute of silence,

"We found a system file in the scripts system of Episode 3," Robin droned, "It is heavily archived, but has no program scripts or model links, I thought it was a incorrectly programed file, so I dropped a message for some of the techies to fix it,"

This made sense, there are many "disconnected" files in Valve's game folders, mostly these are discarded or cut features, sometimes it's a program or script that isn't correctly linked to the game's main system, thats when they had to release a patch to fix the resulting glitch. Robin began talking again,

"A couple of hours ago one of the techies left me a message, the file disappeared, I checked it up and it was gone, I didn't know what was going on, so I retraced my steps and found the file, I tried opening it, then it crashed my computer and, from what I heard, it crashed every computer in America, the news is already reporting on it, and I just know it has something to do with that file..."

Gabe interrupted him here, "was the file name G.ai?"

Robin looked surprised, "yeah, it was, how did you know?"

Gabe looked confused, and perhaps, to Robin's distress, worried. Sure it wasn't like Robin to worry, but Gabe? The calm, brilliant leader of the gaming industry? That had to be apocalypse.

Gabe finally spoke, as if measuring each word, "it was a failed experiment, we called it project G, it was to create a "director", like the one in our Left 4 Dead games, that could program itself to adapt to the situation and create new scenarios, unlike the "director", project G was far more advanced, it could change the landscape, communicate over the internet, adjust the game's scripts and create new ones, basically, it is a programmer, capable of creating the game from scratch, it could think for itself, and direct the power flow of the game's world as needed. We made it as the "director" of Episode 3, but it failed, every time we activated it, project G would not only alter that game files, it would alter the computer files, therefore we cancelled the project. I thought I asked some techies to erase the file, guess it somehow survived and you activated it."

Robin paled visibly in the well-lit office, "so, what you're saying is..."

Gabe looked grim, "yes, project G is G-man, and it had most likely taken over the entire internet and every individual programmed system in the world, that includes power girds, personal records, national security protocols and even global defense systems."

Robin felt his heart drop, "so, in that case, we just got taken over by a computer system?"

Gabe gulped, definitely looking worried now, "programming is an energy source, program G's energy source is imagination, if he transfers this to any program or model, it gains the same properties as he has, which is a mind, in effect, he can give a mind, an imagination and a personality to everything connected by reality and perception, which effectively creates a paradox in reality..."

Robin slumped, defeated by the reality of what he was hearing, "that means whatever G-man imagines..."

Gabe nodded, pale faced and sweating, "...becomes reality."

At that moment, reality made no sense, the laws of physics and reason were twisted, life forms extinguished and re-created, dimensions and space was abolished, and in place, a new world, based on imagination, rose from the extinguished ashes of the old. The very universe was transfered into binary code, then sorted into files by "program G", in the depths of this new reality, Program G began to create a new world, based on what he knew best;

PROGRAM: WorldSpawn

Files: "Team Fortress 2>Scripts>classes>all"

  "Left 4 Dead>Scripts>Survivors>all"

  "Left 4 Dead>Scripts>Infected>all"

  "Half Life 2>Scripts>entities>ai>all"

  "Portal>Scripts>Source>Physics"

  "Valve>viewmodel>props>all>insert to scripts"

Program G paused for a second, a world, it needed a world. Searching through Yottabytes* of data, until it found a suitable world;

WorldSpawn: "Hasbro>My Little Pony Friendship is Magic>worlds>Equestria"

      "Insert: Hasbro>Entities>Residents>all"

      "Insert: Hasbro>Scripts>Personality>Base=Brony community>all"

      "Insert: Valve/Hasbro>world>dimensions>combine"

      "Apply"

Confirmation: "active world: Equestria"

      "residence: Team Fortress 2, Left 4 Dead 2, Half Life 2, Portal, Ponies"

      "Scripts confirmed, Main pony personality files missing"

Program G mused over this, then found a file full of personalities that seemed to work for the pony residents

Personality: "World pony main population (exclude pre-programmed)>Earth population"

    "Confirm: Program saved"

Program G observed what he had created, satisfied the world is full functioning and can create new adventures for the "chosen characters" Program G activated the program.

Program Autorun: "year 2000, begin main program"

Program G was content with the world, in a para-normal dimension, in a vacuum, consisting of only programming files, an entity, a single creature, shaped from the program file "gman" stood, then spoke to no-one in particular

"it seems we are ready for this event, time to begin..."

Reaching out, G-man gathered all the files that amassed over the thousands of years at his fingertips, then a single command appeared;

"Program ready, run?"

G-man clicked the button, and the amassed filed exploded in all directions, forming atoms, then matter, then binding themselves according to program, then "entity_time" began, "event_big-bang" was complete, and the world began to run, on "Program_Equestia".

And so, as the world was complete, so was program G, so it faded away, becoming a silent observer as the well-known story of Equestria begins, Program G would simply watch as the events unfolded, and program G would remain a spectator, until the year 2000, when the events would begin...

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Please leave any reviews in the comments, this is more of an experiment, and whether i continue writing this series is entirely up to you.

*a Yottabyte is the largest possible measurement of data;

1 Yottabyte = 1024 bytes = 1000000000000000000000000bytes

Chaos Generator, a survivors tale

Disclaimer: I do not own Team Fortress 2, Left 4 dead, Half life 2, Portal or My little pony, All rights go to their respective owners, and I take no credit in the creation of these characters, nor do I claim any connection with the actual personel of Valve, all themes displayed are purely fictional.

Image created by me using Gimp image editor, I do not own the characters displayed

Contains some violence and inappropriate language, but not too sad for all you crybabies out there

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Chaos Generator, a survivor's tale

Bill stood alone, furiously pumping the machine.

Dust flew, roars of anger, they appeared. The infected, every infected in the port, attracted by the huge sound the 3 generators were creating. Bill took no notice, all concern for self safety forgotten, "Louis...Zoey...even Francis, I...I just want you to be safe..." Bill surprised himself, saying this, he was getting soft, giving a soft smile, he doubled he's efforts, "please...stay safe...all of you..."

"BANG!", A shell was projected, the bullet propelled into the air, a green cloud of smoke, the tongue fell lose, the shot had found its mark. Louis stood with a hunting rifle, and pulled Francis to he's feet. The biker seemed sheepish, "i guess...i guess thats one I owe you, Louis," Francis rubbed he's neck, trying to forget the feeling of that wet tongue...

"BILL!" Zoey's cry broke the silence, "THERES A...A TAAAAANK!!"

Cursing, Francis bought his rifle up, peering down the sight, sure enough, there he was, a hulking, red chunk of rippling muscle and bone. The three survivors on the bridge released clip after clip into the monstrosity. The shots didn't seem to even bother the giant creature, who turned his sights on a much closer target. Drivin by pure need to kill, the beast tore a huge chunk of asphalt from the road, ripping it clear with a huge crack, and tossed it as if nothing but a chunk of cardboard.

The chunk flew across the air, missing bill by a hair. "just a little more..." Bill felt some electricity spring into the generator, making it vibrate and splutter, "c'mon, you piece of junk, WORK!"

"BILL!" Zoey screamed at the old man, "FORGET THE GENERATOR, RUN!"

"Dammit!" Louis re-adjusted he's fire, sending bullet after bullet from he's mounted gun into the tank, "We have another one, A SECOND TANK, BILL, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!"

Bill ignored this, one thing they had learned throughout their time together, "never interrupt Bill while he's working," Francis grunted as he hefted a grenade launcher, sending a shot tearing through the air, the explosion sent several surrounding infected into the air, mostly in several pieces. The tank shook it off as if it was nothing, "darnit, this...thing...just...won't...DIE!"

"Bzzzzzzzzzzzz...ka boom...boom...BOOM...BOOM...BOOM"

"Yes!" Bill wiped a sweat from his brow, "done, finally..."

"BILL, WHATCH OUT!!!" Bill turned, just in time for to see a car, flung through the air, flying towards him...

...too late...

"BILL!!!!!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

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"...OOOOOOOO!!!"

"wha...whats happening, are there zombies here, why are you screaming?" Louis peeled himself from his sleeping bag, feeling for his gun, instead, he fell from the platform he had slept on, landing with a painful thump, "where are you, whats going on, the light...someone turn on the light!"

Someone turned on the lantern, its dim light was just enough to allow the group to see. Zoey sat in her corner, she appeared to be sobbing.

"Zoey, are you..." Louis was stopped by Francis, looking groggy, but alert, "careful, she might've turned into one of them crying zombies, kill the light. Bill, get my shotgun..."

"Francis? shut up."

Bill approached Zoey, making sure to slip a pistol out of his pocket in the process, "Zoey, are you ok? Speak to me,"

Zoey looked away, "it...it's ok, j..just a bad dream." She was acting brave, what she saw in the dream wanted her to curl up and keep crying, the thought of losing the last people left on Earth who cared for her, the thought was almost too much to bear...

"Oh, gimmie a break..." Francis grumbled, then collapsed back on his sleeping bag, a couple of seconds later he began snoring.

"well, as long as your ok..." Bill holstered his gun, giving a huge yawn, "it's round 5 o'clock, judging by the fact that it's still dark, you should all probably get a couple more hours of sleep, we set off at 7." From he's sleeping bag, Francis grumbled "we're the last f***ing humans left in this goddamn city, what the f*** do we have to get up early for?"

The other survivors went back to sleep, Zoey sat in the corner, unmoving, still shuddering slightly.

"Hey, you sure you ok?" Zoey felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, comforting her, "I'm f...fine, go back to b...be..." Zoey fought back tears bubbling up again, not willing to look soft, Zoey turned away, biting her lip, "thanks Louis, I'm fine..."

Zoey felt her friend sit down beside her, "you know, I was never much of a social person, I screwed up friendships all the time, but I sure as hell won't screw up this one," Zoey looked at him, there it was, that smile, reassuring as ever, "I can at least tell when there's something bothering my friends, trust me, it feels better to let it out than try to act brave."

Zoey held back tears, but Louis's words took their toll, and she burst into silent tears. Louis handed her a clean rag, he was right, it felt good to let it all out. she had tried to be brave, she had held in all the grief and pain, and it had hurt her, deeply...emotionally, she tried to stay brave for her parents...

now she understood, her parents were dead, her friends were dead, her world was dead, nothing could be done, the best thing to do is to just...

"...let it out."

Louis said this, he could easily interpret what she was going through, he's job had been based on analysis, attention to detail, his life used to be as cold as the hardware he examined. He was different now, Zoey had a warm life before, Louis's life has always been cold, ever since he's childhood. Thats why, after 3 solid days of tears, locked in he's office laboratory around the corpses of he's former employees, he emerged a new man upon the ruined streets...

Live life free of worry, never worry, never back down. Louis looked at the sobbing girl, perhaps it's time she learnt that...

Zoey sobbed for hours, Louis sat there, comforting her friend. Until the light of the sun peeked through the safe-room window. Louis gently let Zoey down, asleep, and stood. Louis looked into the mirror, adjusting he's tie, then picked up he's trusty uzi sub machine-gun, checking the ammunition, stuffing half a dozen spare packs into he's pocket. Strapping a med-pack to he's back, and hoping he would never have to use it, it always began this way, each day.

Louis stood in the morning light, that was something that could never be taken away, the light of a new day.

Louis felt someone side up with him, Zoey gave him a light hug, then looked at the world with new eyes, she smiled for the first time in months.

Time for a new day...

"Well, well, well..." Louis and Zoey turned to see Francis staring at them, obviously trying to suppress laughter, "you two lovebirds sure seem to be in a good mood," having said that, he burst into laughter, Zoey, blushing fiercely, pushed an equally flushed Louis away, "Francis? shut up," Bill unrolled himself from his sleeping bag, instantly reaching for his lighter, with a new cigarette lit in his mouth, Bill seemed to be in a better mood, "looks like we overslept...if some of us slept at all!" To everyone's surprise, Bill burst into laughter, to which Francis followed suit, giving the old man a hearty slap on the back, "glad to see you've finally lightened up, Zoey" Bill chuckled at an uncomfortable looking Louis, "c'mon, we got zombies  bastards to kill..."

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"Boomer!" Francis shoved the bloated monster back, then backed away, firing a shot, obviously not far enough, as he and Bill were covered in green goo, "Francis, what the hell is the matter with you?" Bill spat out his cigarette in disgust, aiming he's trusty rifle at a large group of incoming zombies, the rest of the survivors did the same, Francis unhooked a cylinder shaped object from his belt, lighting the fuse and turning it on to produce a loud beeping noise, "ugh, I hate goo..."...

Running for his life felt like an everyday chore now.

Dodging a couple of those "vampires", Francis looked around for his companions, Zoey was next to him, firing as she ran, Louis was ahead, clearing a path, Bill...

"Crap!" Francis stopped, and turned, sure enough, the man was surrounded, furiously shoving the zombies back, he's rifle clicked uselessly. Francis called out to the Zoey, Louis was busy holding off incoming zombies, "Zoey, it's Bill, com'ere and help me!" Not waiting for a response, Francis dashed up to the group, driving the stock of his pump action shotgun into the face of the nearest infected, then fired off 2 rounds, sending dozens of infected sprawling, all missing body parts.

Zoey heard Francis's call, "no...BILL!"

Francis was being swarmed, "ZOEY, CUT THE CRAP AND COME HELP!"

Zoey found herself unable to move, frozen by the possibility of losing her friend and mentor.

"ZOEY, SNAP OUT OF IT" Louis's familiar voice broke Zoey out of her trance.

"SORRY, HOLD ON, I'M COMING," Zoey quickly primed her hunting rifle, aiming it at the closest zombie.

"RAAAAGH!" a hideous scream, before Zoey could fire the shot, she was knocked back by a black blur, pinning her down, it began to tear at her clothes, "argh, you SICKO!" Zoey attempted to push it away, no use, it took no notice and kept tearing at her flesh with razor sharp claws, "NOOOO," Zoey saw Louis fall, out of the corner of her eye, being slamed by a huge one-armed zombie. The same with Bill and Francis, who fell, cursing, under a sea of zombies. Zoey closed her eyes, it was over...

A hail of gunfire, the Hunter fell back, head blown to smithereens, zoey found herself being helped to her feet by a short haired boy, wearing a bloodstained "Bull Shifters" T-shirt and faded jeans. Zoey tried waving him away, "Bill, Louis, Francis...help them first, please..."

The boy stepped back, beckoning to someone, a large black man, wearing a Havana High School gym shirt, which seemed strange with a pair of beige formal trousers, he carried a wicked looking chainsaw around he's waist.

"How is she? Will she make it?" Zoey was relieved to hear Louis voice, he came into sight, supported by a slim girl, same colour as the large man, wearing a pink T-shirt bearing the name of the band "Depeche mode" with skinny jeans, it seemed a shame for the T-shirt to be covered in blood. "I..I'm not sure, I ain't no medical expert, Nick?"

'Nick' came into view, seeming extremely out of place wearing an expensive looking white sports jacket and tuxedo trousers, he was rather handsome, in he's late 20's, and sported a large cut on he's forehead.

"Get out of my way, i didn't get a medical degree for nothing..." Nick expertly checked for wounds, asking occasionally if an area hurts, and not waiting for a response.

Eventually, he drew a large red medpack from behind his back, pulling out a large syringe, he plunged it into Zoeys arm, sending a shock of cold pain through her limb, "relax, it's to lessen the pain...", sure enough, Zoey felt a numbing sensation, doubled with a slightly prickly feeling, looking over, she saw nick wield a needle, sewing up a large cut.

Finishing on her arm, he proceeded to various other area's of her body, finishing by winding a bandage around the damaged areas. Wiping he's brow, Nick stepped back from he's work, "she'll be fine, give her a couple of minutes," he turned to the youth, "Ellis, give her the shot."

Zoey felt another needle plunge into her arm, this time sending a bolt of energy coursing through her body, she sat up immediately, gasping as the wounds stretched. The large man helped her to her feet. She could see Nick work his magic on Bill and Francis, though they seemed to take considerably less time.

Francis stood, rubbing a large bandage on his shoulder, "I guess we really owe you one, speaking of which, what the hell happened to you back there Zoey?" Zoey grinned apologetically, "haha, well, I guess I just freaked out a bit, sorry bout that..." The large man, who had been introduced as Coach, spoke up "hey, it's no big deal, everyone makes mistakes, whats important now is that everyone's safe."

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The two groups exchanged stories, by the light of a small lamp, they were in a small safehouse, not too far from the pier.

"Wow...you guys got to drive Jimmy Gibbs Jr.'s car?" Francis was in awe, "why couldn't we have gotten to do something like that?" The boy, introduced as Ellis, chuckled, "I know right? Here, let me show ya'll something," Ellis rummaged through a small pack, "there, check it out, that's he's helmet, we found it in he's car," he held out a white and blue racing helmet, handing it over to Francis, who cradled it like a newborn baby.

"Hey Nick, i didn't know you had a medical degree," the man shrugged, "never got a chance to use it, 10 years in some crappy university to be chased by cops and ex-boyfriends across every city in America...damn medical inspectors, one missing kidney..."

"Well?" The other girl, who introduced herself as Rochelle, broke the awkward silence, "what are you guys planning to do now?" Bill seemed reluctant to reveal their plans, nudging Louis, but he spoke anyway, "we're gonna take a sailboat, from the pier ahead, we're gonna go for the Florida Keys," at this, Coach seemed to be lost in thought, "ah, the Keys, i've been there before, lovely little set of islands."

"Why don't you guys come with us?"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself, the other survivors stared at her. "Zoey..." Bill looked worried.

"Relax, we're not gonna impose" Coach calmed the mood, "we're heading for the military camp at New Orleans, we'll be safe there, who knows, if this all blows over, we'll come back to find you guys." He gave a loud laugh, which the others joined in, knowing well that this wont ever "blow over"...

Zoey sat back, chewing on a piece of chocolate Coach had handed her. It felt good to talk, share, they all felt a connection, the same desperation, longing for the past, and steely determination in every survivor, and that made them closer than friends, it made them...teammates...

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"Ok, just cause we gonna head our separate ways, don't mean we can't help out those of our own," Coach was speaking casually, with 8 in the team, they could walk casually down the street, taking out the infected as a single squad, "We gonna have to get through anyway, and the bridge seems to be the only way through, so let's get going."

Three generators, Nick, Louis and Rochelle headed to the furthest one, Bill, Ellis and Francis headed for the one in a warehouse, Bill seemed to be on the brink of shooting the young boy, as he recounted tales of him and a friend named "Keith", Francis, however, seemed fascinated and kept asking questions, Bill looked at his gun longingly, then shook his head and stomped ahead. That left Coach and Zoey to guard the final generator.

Coach leaned against the table, polishing he's prised chainsaw, Zoey looked worriedly at her watch, they agreed to activate all three in exactly ten minutes, the noise would probably attract infected from all over the city...

"relax, we'll be fine," Zoey felt annoyed, how was everyone reading their thoughts? "I know, it's just that..."

"You miss your old life," Coach answered for her, "tell ya the truth, there isn't a single person here who doesn't, after all, what could be worse than this?" Zoey nodded, then hesitated, "...I did meet up with the gang, I guess I should be grateful for that," Coach hesitated at this, thinking back to he's own group, surprisingly, he found he does care for them, "yeah, i guess your right." Coach glanced at he's watch, then sighed, pumping another shell out of his pump shotgun, "i guess it's time, now or never..."

Zoey watched, worried, as the man lumbered over to there generator, pumping it furiously, Zoey had a horrible sense of deja-vu, like she's been here before....

...like she's been here before...

Zoey shuddered, "stay calm, it's not the same, Bills not even here..."

At Coach's powerful strokes, the generator soon began to splutter, coming to life, even the spluttering was loud enough to attract a couple of zombies, which were quickly polished off by Zoey, more arrived around the corner, attracted by the sound, "this is gonna be loud..." Zoey slammed another clip into her rifle, ready for a fight...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

A sound of gurgling and spluttering.

Zoey looked around, that sound was horribly familiar, there it was, lumbering up behind Coach. "Boomer! look out behind you!"

Coach reacted surprisingly quick for a man he's size, turning swiftly, he jumped behind the Boomer, dodging the stream of vomit from it's mouth. Coach gave the Boomer a mighty shove, it fell forwards, onto the generator, "Get back! It's gonna blow!"

Both survivors jumped, green goo and chunks of flesh rained everywhere, but mostly on the generator, which seemed to react to the Boomer bile, spluttering slightly, but it kept on pumping, and the zombies kept coming.

Zoey cast a worried glance at the generator, before focusing back onto the horde...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

10 minutes past, finally, Ellis and Francis appeared, swinging what looked like street signs at the incoming infected. Bill Gould be seen crouching behind them, taking accurate shots with his trademark M16.

"What took you guys so long?" Coach lowered he's chainsaw, obviously exhausted.

"Sorry Coach, got caught up with one of them big arm in zombies," Ellis took he's place, tactical shotgun in hand, as did Francis. Bill surprised Zoey with a tight hug, "thank god I'm back, I couldn't take one more second with those two..."

Zoey found herself laughing at the man, it felt good to have her friend back, it felt so much better to have people you could trust back-to-back in a zombie apocalypse...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Another 5 minute passed...20 minutes...half an hour...

No sign of the others.

"Bridge is almost down!" Coach yelled above the sound of he generator and infected, "what the hell are those three doing?" Zoey glanced nervously at the far generator...what?

"Their generator, it's gone!" The other survivors glanced, sure enough, the tall generator's tip was no longer visible. Bill grimaced, "this cant be good, these two generators seem to be doing well on their own, but without theirs, it's gonna take a lot longer..."

Zoey was shocked at how cold the old mans statement was, "that's not the problem! What about Rochelle, what about Nick?" Zoey could feel tears well up again, "what about Louis?"

Bill didn't immediately respond, "like I said before, we have to pay more attention to the matter at hand, and thats..."

Coach suddenly shouted "Spitter! Look out!" Bill looked confused, "Spitter?" He's question was answered as a tall infected standing behind them, most of it's face had been dissolved, and a sickly green liquid dripped what was left of it's mouth. Zoey gagged, "ugh...that's new," Francis let out a snort, "think she's single?"

Ellis and Coach stood looking at then as if they were insane, "what the he'll are you doing?" Ellis yelled, "DODGE!!" As if on cue, the infected spat a glob of goo at Francis, who quickly dropped he's weapon and dived out of the way. The goo hit the generator, hissing, Francis quickly fired a couple of shots from he's pistol, the Spitter fell, acid leaking from a hole in it's head.

"The generator!" the survivors turned to the machine, it was spluttering as the boomer bile and Spitter goo mixed, the generator dissolved into a pile of white goo, slowly spreading across the floor.

The survivors could do nothing but stare, open mouthed, at the pile of white mush that used to be their last hope (except Ellis, who had chosen that moment to get pounced by a Jockey).

Coach was the first to break the silence, though everyone wished he hadn't. "Sooooo, anyone have a plan B? If not I'm going to help Ellis." He turned to he's companion, struggling to pry the jockey off hia face with a crowbar.

Francis groaned, "this can NOT get any worse," everyone glared at Francis, "you KNOW whenever you say that, things are just gonna get worse," Zoey looks around nervously, expecting an earthquake or flying zombies.

"C'mon, what could be worse?" Francis continued despite the others frantically telling him to shut up, "we're missing 3 people, got a never-ending horde of zombies, lost two out of three generators, and we've got some sort of white mush covering over our ammo pile. The only way this could get worse is probably a..."

"TAAAAAAANK"

Francis facepalmed, using his free hand to give the finger to the sky, "what kind if sick god..."

Zoey felt around for a molotov, they were running out of ammo, and the horde kept on coming, "Francis! The puke!" The biker responded by hurling he's boomer bile at the tank, it struck home, the horde turned, they had a new target...

Zoey leaned against the wall, safe for the moment, the Tank disappeared under a sea of frenzied infected.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I'm out," Ellis tossed his empty shotgun away, pulling out a large machete. This is bad, the ammo pile had been destroyed by the white goo, which had stopped spreading and pooled in the middle of the clearing. They were running out of ammo, fast, the single generator was doing little to provide the huge amount of power needed to move the bridge.

There...could that be?

Zoey stumbled back, "T...TAAAAAANK!!" groans from all around, even Coach had lost he's bravado. "Well, I guess this is it, nice knowing ya'll, but I ain't going down without a fight ," that said, he pulled out he's chainsaw, pumping it furiously, the powerful machine's roar filled the air, Coach squinted at the tank, "is that tank...holding something?"

Sure enough, in it's right hand held...the last generator, still pumping with energy, the tank roared, then lumbered towards the disarmed survivors...

A bright flash, a bottle flying through the air, the tank was lit ablaze, screeching in the sudden light and pain. It stumbled back, revealing Louis, arm limp and bound with cloth, but with a steely look of determination etched on he's face, behind him, Rochelle supported Nick as the missing trio dashed towards their friends.

"Hey, what's with all this goo?" Louis looked at where the generator used to be, "anyone wanna fill me in on where the generators gone?" Zoey pulled him into a hug, feeling him wince as she touched his injured arm. "it's a long story," Bill there him a small bottle of pills, "short version? Never mix boomer bile and Spitter goo.

"RAAAAAARW!!"

Bill glanced at the tank, now looking very pissed, "oh yeah, knew I forgot something..."

The tank lifted the generator, still working, above it's head, "awww...f***," with that, the tank hurled the generator at the survivors...

The generator struck the white goo, shattering into tiny pieces, megawatts of electricity flowed into the goo, igniting it with blue flames, the flames quickly spread, "what the, argh..." Zoey screamed as the flames consumed her; expecting to be burnt to a crisp.

Nothing, what was happening? Zoey opened her eyes in wonder, she was completely consumed by the fire, yet felt nothing. "What is this?" Francis weaved his hand through the apparently harmless fire, "am I dead, or something?"

Zoey felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned, startled, "Bill! Whats happening here?" The old man was clearly at a loss for words, "if I didn't know better, i'd say we've been taking drugs." Having said that, he pulled an adrenaline shot from he's pocket, plunging it into he's leg, he blinked, shook he's head, "nope, whatever this is, it's real."

Then the ground began to sink, Zoey's own voiced joined the other seven survivor's voices as the goo seemed to 'suck' them in. Soon they had sunk up to their waist in the ground, Zoey could hear gunfire, though none of the survivors had their weapons.

The floor seemed to become transparent, revealing a blurred landscape, a desert?

Zoey closed her eyes tightly, she was up to her neck, then was an eerie period of silence, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, it was all she could do not to panic...

Then came the falling, she screamed all the way down, and she heard seven other voices do the same, Zoey felt faint, last thing she heard before she passed out was what sounded like a battle cry...

"SAXTON...HAAAAAAAALE!!!"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hey ya'll bronies out there, just wanted to thank you all for the support shown, this is one of my first fan-fics, and i spent a long time brainstorming ideas on it, please rate and leave comments.

/) brohoof to ya'll (\

GRAMMER NAZI'S ARE WELCOME, I AM ALWAYS WILLING TO IMPROVE, JUST BE SPECIFIC

Ps. for those wondering why I put left 4 dead before TF2, its that if i brought the TF2 characters into the left 4 dead world, THIS would happen

2-fort times, when legends meet

Disclaimer: I do not own Team Fortress 2, Left 4 dead, Half life 2, Portal or My little pony, All rights go to their respective owners, and I take no credit in the creation of these characters, nor do I claim any connection with the actual personel of Valve, all themes displayed are purely fictional.

Image created by me using Gimp image editor, I do not own the characters displayed

Contains some violence and inappropriate language, but not too sad for all you crybabies out there

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

2-fort times, when legends meet

"...oops, zat waz not medizin."

"Doktor, little man save my life, you must help,"

"Zey vill be fine, giv zem some time..."

Nick groaned, so much pain, who are these people?

"Medic! Little baby man is awake,"

Nick felt somebody lean over him, pressing something against he's chest. "Ah, excellent, you are awake, heaven forbid I practice medizen on an dead man..." Whoever was speaking let out a light, sarcastic chuckle.

"BZZZT!"

Nick jerked up instantly, screaming, "what the hell?"

Nick stopped, staring at the pair in front of him, the first, presumably the man who revived him, was of a slim, graceful build, wearing a long white doctors' coat and small spectacles. He held a strange cylindrical object attached to a large steel backpack he wore. The other man, in stark comparison, was huge, with no hair, He wore a belt of huge bullets across he's chest, and held a ridiculously large minigun almost as large as Nick.

The smaller man helped Nick (still having no idea what happened) up, holding out a hand, "Medic," he said simply, Nick suddenly had the life squeezed out of him as the huge man pulled him into a crushing hug, "Little man is safe, I am very happy," he spoke with a heavy Russian accent, taking sense of Nicks struggling and coughing, he let go, to Nick's relief, "I am Heavy Weapons Guy," he hoisted the minigun, looking at it fondly, "and this, is my weapon."

Nick, still recovering from the bear hug, looked around, he was in a small room, filled with electronics and wiring, a glass wall on one side showed a large control room with a large screen showing a projected map of the world, on a small desk was a large, blue briefcase with "TOP SECRET" stamped across the surface. In a corner of the room, a strange, dual barreled contraption turned left a right, beeping once in a while.

It was impossible not to notice he's friends scattered across the room. Turning to the "medic", he gestured to his friends, the Medic nodded, "zey vill be fine, I could guess zat zey are in ze same condition you were in," the man spoke with a thick German accent, he lifted the strange cylinder he held, "a quick shot from zis and zey vill wake, ze same way I did to you, except I vink I may have stretched your heart slightly...normal hearts are not made to withstand zis voltage."

With that said, he set to work, directing the barrel at the nearest survivor, which happened to be Francis. Flipping a switch, a strange blue beam weaved it's way out of the cylinder, seemingly finding it's own way to Francis's body. as soon as the beam touched he's body, Francis jerked, as if struck by lightning, "HEY, the f*** is going on here?" Medic instantly switched his beam off, turning casually to the next unconscious survivor as Francis sat up, took one glance at the scene, then lay back down, cursing in what sounded like Spanish...

"How did we get here, and where exactly is 'here'?" Nick asked the large man, "Heavy Weapons Guy", his response was pointing at the roof, or what was left of it.

"I guard intelligence, evil baby spy sneak up behind me, you and your friends fall from sky, you break roof, but saved life because you landed on puny spy,"

Heavy pointed at the limp figure of a man, dressed in a red suit and balaclava, with his back obviously bending in the wrong direction.

"This is our intelligence room, we guard from sneaky RED mercenaries, we in the North-west hills of Me...Mex...of country where taco come from. We have regular transfer to different place in world to fight. Now is your turn to explain, you arrive from sky, we see no outsiders here"

Nick shrugged, "no idea, I remember running from a Tank, then there was a long fall...next thing I know your friend was...waking me up."

The Heavy nodded thoughtfully, "I fight tank once, puny German model, crush like toy."

"...What? Not an army tank, one of the infected..."

"Nick, care to explain what's going on?" Coach walked up behind. Heavy grinned, and told he's story again to the other survivors, who listened intently, except for Ellis, who eyed the Heavy's minigun with great interest, and Bill, who was busy looking for his tobacco supply.

The Heavy saw Ellis staring at his gun, he grunted, "beautiful, is she not? She is Sasha, the greatest weapon to be produced in Motherland...stay away from my girl," Ellis shrank back from the Heavy's murderous gaze, quickly looking away from 'Sasha'.

Nick approached the Medic, who was polishing he's strange contraption with what looked like a surgical mask "what...what is that?" Nick was fascinated, he had worked as a doctor before, but never seen anything that could heal so quickly, the Medic grinned, with a slightly disturbing gleam in he's eye, "zis is my finest creation, I call it ze quick-fix, it uses the same function as a growth hormone except it affects only the cells used for repair and mental stability."

"How powerful is it?" Nick hadn't heard Louis approach, "every army in the world would be dyin' to get their hands on that piece."

The Medic chuckled, "do you vant to hear ze story of mine medigun technology?" Nick nodded, feeling his old interests of medicine arise. To Nicks surprise, the Heavy also walked over, sitting himself down for the story. The Medic sat on the desc, eyeing the blue briefcase on the table, "I suppost zis story vould also tell you a lot about everybody here..."

The Medic looked at the small crowd, he looked...sad, as if remembering a time long gone...

"Ok, I vas born in an time of great social disrest between mine country, Germany, and Heavy's country, Russia. we vere at var, neither side vas villing to give in."

"Mine mother died by ze hands zis...var, she vas a drill sergent, and one of ze strongest humans i've ever known, and mine father, being a medic for ze German forces, vas killes in combat, both died in a zingle year, I had just began ze study for mine 3rd Phd in medical science, and vor 6 years, knew nothing of zis."

The Medic smiled grimly, "it waz at ze graduation ceremony, I vas recruited into ze army az medic, then, when mine turn came to recieve, there vas much applause, but mine parents vere not present, thought zey promised zey would be there, instead, a message vas read out, in front of every person present at ze time, zat mine parents had died in ze service...6 years ago."

"At zat moment, and every moment ever since, I hated zat war, I left mine city, soon after ze ceremony, and travelled to almost every zity in mine country, zeeking out victims of zis war, I met ze heavy in ze town of Diemelstadt, he vas imprisoned in ze jail there, for stealing food, ven I saw him he vas half zis size, and dying. I saw in him vat was in me, a hatred of zis war, and, zat night, I helped him escape. Together, ve travelled ze land, recruiting more and more resistance members."

The Heavy seemed to be lost in thought, "da, I remember, was sad time. War fun, but no fun if fight for no end, and no reason. I enjoy battle, but when close friends and Motherland is hurt, I cannot watch," the huge man returned to cleaning he's weapon.

The Medic continued his story, "At ze end of 6 months, ve had less zen 100 members, not many men vere brave enough to fight against zis war. Ve hat no vay to stop ze war vith such a pathetic forze, we vould have been gunned down on sight, things vere looking...completely hopeless."

"Zen, one day, a man arrived at ze resistance camp, I knew him, he was friend of mine father, his name vas Igor. He had been impressed by mine work in ze academy, and had tracked me down to ze resistance leader."

The Medic seemed to be lost now, "I saw him as an idol, he waz incredible, he taught me ze other side of medicine, vat can give, can also take..."

Nick swallowed nervously, glancing at the strange gun the medic held, it was filled with razor shape syringes, somehow, Nick didn't think they were flu vaccinations...

The Medic continued, now with the old gleam reappearing in he's eyes. "Ve worked vor veeks on ze zirst medigun, it vas a much simpler design, merely speeding up bodily repair functions whilst maintaining correct organ functions, it could bring men back from ze brink of death, and raise their vitality to up to two times their normal limit."

The Medic frowned, "it vas a huge success, ve used it as a threat, to both the nations. ve said if zis var is not over by ze end of zis month, ve vill give zis technology to ze opponents'. In ze end, ze Russians relented, and agreed to sign ze surrender. Ze var vas to be over, but..it vas not to be..."

The Heavy suddenly took over, a deep, burning anger in his voice, "Puny German officer plot, to kill Medic and Resistance and take medi-gun, he bring half army to attack base, everyone dead, very few men escape with help of medi-gun, only ten men, including Igor, though he was puny civilian."

The medic grimaced, "most of zem vere men who had been hired in ze var by ze armies, then left. Zey vere mercenaries, from all around ze world, who grew sick of fighting in an endless war. The first ve had recruited vas an american soldier, he called himself..."

"CAPTAIN JANE DOE!"

A loud cry rang across the room, everyone turned, startled, towards the voice.

In the doorway stood a tall, broad-shouldered man, clad in a blue army issue shirt and black pants, he had a sling of grenades wrapped across his chest, and a dark blue helmet hid his eyes, incredibly, a still smoking rocket was buried in the helmet, to which the man didn't seem to notice.

He held a large green shotgun, pumping a shell from its stock, he pointed the weapon at the gathered survivors, cocking the barrel menacingly, "NOW, who are you sissified maggots, and why are you talking about me?" He peered at them from under his helmet, squinting his eyes, "are you spies? Without waiting for an answer, he let out a ear-piercing shout. "PYROOOOOOO!!!"

The Medic facepalmed.

As the survivors are still trying to figure on whats going on here, the Heavy stood, looking very annoyed "Soldier! Put down puny gun, they are not threat to us, they not even have guns, and Doktor was telling story of our war."

Nick quickly tucked his magnum into his inside suit pocket.

"Mmph..."

The survivors turned at the strange sound, staring at yet another newcomer, a masked man, or woman, or creature, clad from head to toe in a strange body-suit, a belt of cylindrical, yellow grenades graced it's chest, and he held a wicked flamethrower, adorned with a dragons head at the end.

The Pyro, no doubt, pointed his weapon menacingly at the gathered crowd.

"Pyro! There you are!" The Soldier seemed delighted, though the resident scowl on his face didn't change, "listen carefully, these maggots sitting here are spies, I want you to burn the living shi..."

'CRASH!!'

A large, flaming object fell through the roof, landing on top of the soldier, followed by a shower of splinters, the Pyro clapped, obviously enjoying the show.

The medic quickly jumped up, directing his medi-gun at the Soldier, then to the object, who turned out to be a man.

The man stood, desperately searching for something, he looked very distressed. "Me bottle o scrumpy! Ah've gone and lost it!"

"Right here you poor drunken excuse for a cyclops," the Soldier pulled himself up, tossing a brown bottle to the newcomer. The man seemed delighted, catching the bottle and taking a deep swig, "ahhhh, that's the stoof, thanks mate."

The man turned to the crowd, "whashappening here?"

The man was black, with only one eye, the other was covered with an eye patch. Like the soldier and pyro, he wore blue clothes, and had 4 cartoonish bombs strapped to his chest, and wore a plain black beanie on his head. Strangely, he spoke with a distinct Scottish accent, despite looking African-American.

Nick stared at the 3 newcomers. Strange wasn't how you could sum up these men. Dimly, he realized the black/Scottish man was offering his bottle to the survivors, "annae one of ye want a swig?"

To everyones surprise, Zoey took the bottle and gulped down a mouthful, despite the Medic and Heavy making frantic hand signs at her. As soon as the liquor touched her throat, she bent over double, coughing, "holy...sh...shit," she spluttered.

The Medic dashed over, "zat brew...it iz made of fermented cola nuts, and iz stronger zan medicinal alcohol, I should hav varned you..."

The Medic started to raise his medi-gun, but was quickly stopped by Zoey, obviously terrified of being shocked again, Nick couldn't blame her. "I...I'll be fine, do you have some water?"

The Medic turned to his large companion, "Heavy?" The big man shrugged, lumbering off out of the room, mumbling to his...girl.

The Soldier dusted himself off, "I suppose that by the fact you didn't refuse the Demoman's drink means your not spies." The 'Demoman' grinned, taking back his bottle, "it's me personal form o spycheck, if any of yae laddies had refused me drink, you woulda found this here bottle buried in yer skulls."

Bill walked over to Zoey, who was still trying to get the alcohol taste out of her mouth. "What were you thinking? That drink could have killed you!"

Zoey shrugged, eyes still watering, "you know, with a zombie apocalypse and all my family dead, I figure it's better to go a senseless drunk than a frightened victim."

The Demoman slapped the girl on the back, causing another fit of coughs, "ah, good ter see another person who understands meh, if I wasn't man I was, I'd kiss ya."

The Pyro sat himself down, stowing his flamethrower away. Taking out a battered old lighter, flicking it repeatedly on and off. There was something about him that was...unsettling

The Medic beckoned the newcomers over, "allow me to introduce mine teammates. Ze Pyro, vell, I know little about him, only that we recruited him as a deserter from ze Russian army...he had been...experimented on in an attempt to create a super-soldier. Ze Demoman, he had arrived in the country vith ze Soldier."

Nick was getting inpatient, eager to hear the rest of Medics story, "go on doc, the story..."

The Medic looked lost for a moment, then his eyes lit up again, "ah, yes, mine story, where ver we?" the Medic looked lost in thought, "oh, I remember, ve had a small group of rebels remaining from ze attack, ze Soldier vas one of zem, he had arrived from America to lead his own attack against Herr Hitler, unfortunately, he did not have a return ticket, and when Hitler vas defeated, Soldier vas stuck in Germany. Ve had found him on ze streets, juggling grenades and rockets for spare change..."

He Soldier cleared his throat, pulling out a large rocket and his grenades, with a loud chuckle he began to juggle the explosives, much to the everyones amusement.

"...Yes, anyway, ve had a small force, and ze enemy had discovered our location, zey vould stop at nothing to get mine weapon. Igor proposed an idea, ve had been vorking on something past the healing capacities of mine medi-gun. A sort of...god mode using ze medi-gun. With zis feature, ze medi-gun can create a temporary increase in power, healing so fast zat any incoming damage in stately nullified as ze body repairs itself, ve called zis ze ubercharge."

The Soldier snorted, "fat lot of good that little...creation of yours did," he rubbed his chest, as if it pained him.

Medic sighed, "ve did not have ze time to perfect ze ubercharge, but ve had no other choice. Ve had to use it to fend of ze enemies attacking us. Herr Soldier and Herr Heavy both volunteered to be ze test subject, but ve knew zey could not be spared, in case something goes wrong. In ze end, Igor convinced us to use it on him."

The Medic picked up his medi-gun, examining it for any blemishes, "ze medi-gun had one vital flaw. Ze voltage of ze ubercharge vas far to high for any human to handle. Igor sustained ze ubercharge only long enough hold off ze first wave of incoming soldiers. Igor did not survive the experience. I...I had to perform the autopsy...his insides were burnt out, his heart had released such heat that it destroyed him inside completely. I could barely identify ze vital organs...ze experiment had failed."

The Demoman and Pyro made a couple of light chuckling noises, but were abruptly cut off by a dark glare from the Medic. "sorry bout that, ya know, just me love of explosives talkin..."

Th Pyro nodded, then returned to flicking a lighter on and off, staring into the flame, as if entranced.

An almost visible shudder passed through the room at the medic's gruesome memory. The Medic didn't seem to be affected, "Then, as ve vere about to surrender our world into the Germans hands. A member of ze resistence approached me, asking for only 2 days. Ve could hold ze enemy off for 2 days. Ve vere elites, the best possible men who survived through the vicious attacks. Zis mans name was...is Dell Cohager, in fact, zat over there is one of his inventions."

The Medic pointed at the object, still rotating in the corner of the room. "No doubt you vill all meet him very soon. He regularly comes down here to maintain his buildings...ah, Zoey, was it? Your water has arrived."

The survivors turned, again, and this tine saw another 2 men, dressed in a similar color to the others. The first was tall, skinny, but had a dark look about him, much like Nick. He wore a leather vest with several high-calibre sniper rounds in the pockets, a beautiful Slouch hat sat upon his head, and under it's shadow they could make out mirrored sunglasses. A jagged Kukri knife adorned his belt, and he held a wicked looking bow, a quiver of arrows hung from his side, along with several jars of an unidentifiable yellow liquid and and a small submachine gun. Despite his bow, he also had a huge sniper rifle slung across his back, made from a strange black metal that seemed to absorb light.

The other man was much shorter, and wore a simple hard-hat. Blue formal shirt with dark blue overalls. He wore a gun holster full of blueprints on his belt, and held a wrench in hand. His other hand seemed to be completely mechanical, and glinted in the light. It held a simple automatic pistol. A beautiful silver shotgun adorned with carvings and patterned wood was strapped to his belt. His eyes were covered with dark googles blue.

The pair stared incredulously at the crowd, stopping at the Demoman, who held out his drink to the newcomers. The tall man grimaced, but took a deep swig of the liquid nevertheless, the shorter man refused the drink, but the Demo didn't seem too concerned.

The medic waved to he newcomers, beckoning them over. "Zey are not any threat to us, put zat away Dell."

Only now did the survivors notice the short man, Dell they presumed, was pointing his pistol towards them. Grudgingly, Dell put the gun away, slipping it into his holster.

"Medic, ah told ya ter never use ma real name, especially not in front of possible spahs...Pyro, have ya checked them yet?"

The pyro stood up excitedly, picking up his flamethrower. Nick backed away from the firebug.

Thankfully, the Medic stopped Pyro before he could dish out any damage. "Sit down, mine fiery friend, zey are not spies...nor are zey familiar vith our ways, put zat away Sniper."

The tall man shrugged and put away the jar of strange...liquid he had been holding. Though his hand never left the knife hanging on his belt.

The two men cautiously walked over to the group. The tall man, Sniper, spoke first. He had a charming Australian accent, and doffed his had before introducing himself. "G'day, you can all call me Sniper, or Mr. Mundy. Names don't really matter to me as much as they do to some. I would, however, love to know what in the blazes is going on. The big guy just ran up to me on the battlements, threw me this bottle of water and told me to come down here, then he ran off towards the enemy base, something about...Sasha being hungry."

The short man spoke now, he had a distinct southern accent, and spoke in gruff, simple lines, giving no greeting to neither his team nor the newcomers, "Ma names Dell Cohager, ah agree with Sniper, information would be muh appreciated, ah was on ma way down here anyway, someone has ta keep our main defense runnin'."

Nick eyed the 2 men with interest. He had a talent at summing up people's talents, these two could not be more different. The Sniper, mr. Mundy, had a cheerful look and acts like a gentleman, deep inside, Nick felt a strange coldness, as if he had coated his dark side with a light cheeriness. Nick knew it wouldn't take much to uncover the man within, though the man seemed to have a good layer of patience.

The engineer, Dell Cohager, was the complete opposite. Beneath his gruff, hard exterior, Nick could see a kind man, worn down by years of experience. It may need a while of digging, but Nick was sure the old Dell was still there, sheltered by his cold personality.

"Ay, doc, care to explain what's goin on here?" The Sniper tossed the water bottle to Zoey, who gratefully gulped down the liquid.

The Medic beckoned them over, "zey saved ze intelligence from an enemy spy, it zeems zat zey themselves don't know how zey arrived here...except that zey fell from ze roof."

The Engineer squinted at them from behind his dark goggles, "ya'll sure they ain't spahs? I've a good mind ta slap 'em over the head with ma wrench." He raised his wrench menacingly, there was a small dent on the edge and what looked like dried blood...remains of it's last victim.

The Medic frowned, "if zey vere spies, zey vould have targeted zat sentry gun first, vould zey not?"

The Engy grunted, but thankfully accepted the facts, "Well, 'slong as they don't interfere with mah work..."

The Medic sat down, relieved at having no more complications, "ok, vere vas I...yes, Mr. Cohag...ze Engineer volunteered to build a device to make ze ubercharge successful. Ve had to hold out for 2 days. It vas hard, but ve managed, ze engineer had created a new power-storage device that stops ze heart from overflowing. But ze voltage of ze ubercharge vould still kill those who used it...I vas able to solve zat problem, and ze Heavy's heart problems, by inserting the heart of ze mega baboon into each of mine team members."

(Play Meet The Medic Now)

"Ze result vas perfect...Herr Heavy vas ze first to use ze ubercharge, on ze battlefield, fields of enemy soldiers mowed down, ze blood fell from ze sky like rain, and ve climbed a mountain of ze fallen's bodies. He had become ze ubermensch, if only for a moment..."

"Was good day for killing."

Nobody had heard the giant re-enter the room, but from the half dozen bodies slung over his shoulder, he had been very busy. "I feel alive with ubercharge, was bulletproof, kill mountains of soldiers, revenge for motherland, great honor." Heavy nodded to the Sniper and Engy, dumping the pile of red-clothed bodies in the corner, then sat himself down again, polishing his treasured weapon as though he couldn't stand a single speck of dust on it."

The Medic was looking very pissed now, "now if ve are done with zees interuptions, I vould explain how ze internal mechinisms of mine medigun..."

"Need a Dispenser here!"

"Gentlemen."

The Medic facepalmed, with both hands this time.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

The survivors found themselves telling their story. The mercenaries said nothing, though the Engineer started taking notes halfway through.

"...next thing you know, medic was waking us up here, haven't the slightest idea how we got here." the survivors stopped, waiting for the incoming reactions. Bill and Coach told most of their story, both being in a good mood. Bill had gratefully accepted an offered cigarette from one of the newcomers, a tall, masked man in a blue suit, who was introduced as the spy. Coach was chewing on a bar of chocolate, or "dalokohs" as the Heavy had called it.

The first to speak was the man introduced as the scout, he couldn't have been much older than Zoey. He wore a blue tank top with black track pants, he had a large bag slung across his shoulder, and wore a large headset. He wore green wristbands, socks and shoes, and had a large boom-box strapped to his back. A pistol similar to the Engy's was carelessly stuck in a pocket, and what looked like a large circular shotgun was holstered on the same side. He never seemed to let go of his baseball bat, a strangely designed piece of aluminum, it had blue circular areas protruding from some parts, the word "ATOM" was etched proudly into it's side.

"So, whatcha saying is dat there's some kinda zombie apocalypse happenin' in America right now, you sure ya haven't just escaped from a loony bin or somethin?" He spoke with a heavy Boston a accent, and had a strangely...annoying voice.

Ellis nodded, "yeah, that's bout right," he found the entire room staring at him, "what? Ah meant bout the apocalypse, not being a buncha loons."

The Soldier made to talk, probably to criticize their story, and state that America would never fall to anyone. Luckily he was stopped by the Engineer, "regardless of whether y'all are tellin the truth, ya must be tuckered out, y'all sure look it. Why dontcha take a good nights sleep at our expense? From whatcha said from that there story of yours, ya'll really need it."

The Sniper grumbled, but managed to retain his cheery exterior. "Assassin I may be, but I can hardly turn away those in need, I agree."

Nick grinned, they were finally revealing their true colors.

None if the survivors seemed sure about the mercenaries, they had been very welcoming to strangers, but this was probably since they could take out the survivors in a matter of seconds should they choose to do so.

Bill stood, dragging on a fresh cigarette, "any hospitality would be greatly appreciated, I can't remember the last time we've gotten a decent nights sleep...and quality cigarettes, I must ask, what brand are these?"

The spy chuckled, a strangely sinister sound. "Eet is one of France's finest brands, "le phantome", eet is very rare, and is delivered on order only. Even so, nobody knows who makes them, and the maker, god bless him, only delivers a set amount. Luckily, I always have these in supply, I have my ways..."

Bill realized what he meant, but expected as much. The man was an assassin anyway. Instead he took another offered cigarette, studying it's impressive quality. Francis coughed, and also received a cigarette in response. Francis didn't smoke often, as a biker, he once had access to more...exciting goods. But there was hardly any choice here.

The survivors didn't trust the spy, despite his friendly exterior, there was something about him, like he was accustomed to using people, then betraying them. He seemed to wear a dark blue balaclava at all times, and his fine suit looked extremely out of place among these other men. A large silver/bronze revolver, decorated with intricate carvings, was never far from his reach. He absently spun a strange black butterfly knife in one hand, and the other held a cigarette he was constantly puffing on. A golden watch sat proudly on his wrist.

"well, it seems battle has been called for the day." The Spy spoke in a light French accent, checking his watch, "from what I hear from Heavy...which wasn't very much, you...let me recall...fell through the floor somewhere in America, and ended up here in the isolated hills of Mexico via the roof?"

Ellis answered first, enthusiastically, "I told y'all, we we're fightin' a couple'a tanks, then we got puke and goo mixed up, then the ground started glowin' like it was on fire, and we fell through and next thing I knew, the German was zappin' me awake."

Groans from all the survivors, except Francis, who helpfully piqued in "don't forget the vampires and army bombing us."

Luckily, Bill intervened here, "you say the infection hasn't reached Mexico yet? Strange, from what we heard most of North America had been taken..."

The Medic shook his head, "zat iz not it, ve have not had any news of an infection anywhere, if zere truly was any...'ahem'...zombie apocalypse, then our employers have been hiding it from us."

Heavy yawned, "whatever is problem, can wait tomorrow, we sleep now, as one team, like communist propaganda say, we share all here, make yourself comfortable."

Another reminder of how close this team was. They relied on each other on a daily basis, putting their lives in each other's hands. Though the Sniper and Spy were constantly glaring at each other, there was no doubt they would work together in any situation.

Ellis looked back at his own ragged band of survivors, they had forged iron bonds together in battle, but take away the constant need for survival, would they still trust each other? Almost certainly not, he would have never gone near someone as shifty as Nick. Still, after all they've been through, it was probably the only good thing to have come out of this infection, knowing there would always be people watching his back.

On the other hand, if they mercenaries wanted to attack them, there was nothing they could do anyway, besides, they would have already acted if they were hostile, even so...

The Engineer stood up, surprising everybody by taking a battered wooden guitar out from behind his back. The mercenaries seemed to know what to do, the soldier scout took a pile of papers from a nearby cabinet, tossing then in a pile on the floor, the demoman sprinkled a generous share of his booze onto the papers, and finally, the Sniper tossed an ornate wooden shield onto the pile, the pyro tossed small flame he somehow conjured out of thin air onto the pile, setting it ablaze with cheery orange  flames, which quickly warmed the cold floor they were sitting on and filled the room with a cheery warmth.

Rochelle looked at the pile, especially at the sniper's beautiful shield now snapped in half from the sudden heat. "That shield, why didn't you use some more papers."

The sniper snorted in disgust, "that piece? First time Mann Co. ever got the bad end of a deal, ordering half a million indigenous Australian shields, they were gonna use it as a new signature product for the company, what they didn't know was that they were about as strong as 20 year old limestone, cracks on any sorta impact. The indigenous group that made he deal no longer exists thanks to our 'benefactor' Saxon Hale. I only wear it as a way to block those sneaky backstabbers..."

Sniper shot a glare at the spy, who snorted. "any competent spy would just shoot you if they see you with something covering your back, foolish bushman"

"Yeah, if I thought they any of ya bloody frenchmen had the brainpower to cook a croissant, Sneaky bastard,"

"Unhealthy bushman,"

"Mental defective,"

"You live in a van that reeks of urine!"

"And you're bout as useful as a raw steak pickled in humus sauce!"

"HEY!" The heavy looked up from the giant chunk of raw steak dipped in yellow sauce he was munching on.

Rochelle leaned over towards the scout, "are they always like this?"

The scout gave a short laugh, "dem two? Always at each other's throats, dey have a long standing rivalry from way back when we were using crowbars as weapons."

Zoey suddenly realized something, "wait...did you just say Saxton Hale?"

The Sniper didn't even look up from what he was doing, which happened to be comparing knives with the spy, "yeah, Saxton Hale, he's the bloke who supplies us with our weapons and hats."

Bill choked on a cigarette, "I'm sorry, did you say hats?"

Sniper sighed, sheathing his knife back onto his belt, "hats are a way of determining rank and skill here, like this here beauty." the Sniper proudly patted his crocodile slouch hat.

Zoey sighed, "I heard something when I was...falling, a man screaming..."

"that was me" Ellis jumped in.

"No, he was screaming that name, Saxton Hale, I heard it, like a battle-cry."

The mercenaries seemed shocked, "Saxton Hale? Here? Not too likely," the Soldier gave a nervous chuckle, "he does visit once in a while to deliver new weapons, but that man is trouble, every time he arrives, we get transferred to a new area."

"Transferred? As in relocated?" Bill was interested in how these mercenaries operated.

The Medic nodded, "yes, ve are regularly moved to new areas around ze world, to various new objectives, ve had just arrived here, in two-fort, Mexico, a couple of days ago, so it's unlikely ve would get moved again so soon..."

"SAXTON HAAAAALE!!!"

The medic facepalmed, for the third time that night.

A loud stomping could be heard from one of the two corridors leading to the room, the earth itself seemed to shake as the sound drew closer. In an instant, the mercenaries were up and loaded, weapons instantly primed.

Suddenly, the stomping stopped, leaving an uneasy moment of silence. The soldier laughed, "HA, probably the red team maggots trying to scare us, it will not work, man up! You spineless foo..."

A deafening crack from overhead, more splinters fell, covering the unfortunate scout with wood chips. An ear piercing shout, "PROPERTY DAMAGE!!" A huge man, as large as the Heavy and rippling with muscle, landed on the floor with a loud boom. He stood up straight, hands on hips, Zoey swore she could see a strange light shining from behind him.

The mercenaries had been aiming at the corridor, now instantly swung their weapons towards the newcomer, the survivors clumsily scrambled to their feet, taking out their weapons from hidden locations, the roar of Coach's chainsaw filled the room.

The man, Saxton Hale, ignored the survivors, instead directly addressing the mercenaries. He wasn't wearing much, just a ragged pair of trousers and a hat adorned with half a dozen crocodile teeth. His chest sported hair cut in the shape of Australia, and a sherif style mustache proudly sat on his face.

"What in the blazes is going on 'ere?" Hale dumped a huge sack he had been carrying into the floor, "I'm 'ere to give you some new weapons, picked them up on my way out of Mann Co."

He lifted the sack, pouring it's contents fall to the ground. A couple of dozen wooden protest signs clattered to the ground, most had chunks missing and what looked like blood splattered across it's front. From what could be seen here, the signs mostly said "down with Mann Co."

Saxton Hale frowned, giving the bag another shake, this time an unconscious man fell out, Hale hastily stuffed him back into the bag muttering something about hippies.

The mercenaries looked skeptically at the battered wooden signs lying in front of them. The Scout picked one up, giving it an experimental swing, the pole snapped in half, smacking him across the face.

The Medic facepalmed again, thinking his face may be bruised from his constant doing so, "ve are going to be transferred again aren't ve..."

Hale patted the German on the back, accidentally sending him flying across the room. "There there, it's not so bad, you get paid well, don't you? Anyway, this is an emergency, so you had better get going." Hale made like he was about to jump out of the building.

"Wait! Where are we even meant ta be goin'?" The Engy bought out one of the rolls of paper he kept in his belt, unrolling it to reveal a map of the world.

Hale tossed him a small envelope, sealed with a single wax stamp reading simply the letter "A". The man the somehow defied the laws of gravity and leapt out of the room, yelling out "BRAVE JUMP" as he did so.

The Engy scanned the note, frowning slightly. "Hmmm, this is strange..."

The scout nervously turned his bat in his hands, "Well hard-hat? where we goin' next?"

The Engy sighed, "tool up boys, looks like we're headin' ta Nucleus, and we'll be takin' the van." He nodded to the Sniper, who stood and walked out of the room, beckoning at the Survivors to follow. Ellis ran excitedly to the Australian, "where we goin'? Nucleus? Awww man, that sounds cool!"

The Scout snorted, "Dude, you're like me back when I first started this killin' business. Man, Nucleus is gonna be hard on ya."

The spy laughed, "not as hard as the trip there, we are going in the 'van', remember?" the Spy shivered, spitting out the word 'van' like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

The Survivors got a hasty explanation from the Engy, then they were packed into the mentioned van, a tan colored caravan, equipped with everything needed for a long journey. Surprisingly, it was already light outside, and the Survivors were momentarily entranced by the view of 2 fort in sunrise, before they followed the survivors over to a steel fence encircling the perimeter of the battlefield, the Engy pulled a strange golden key from the envelope he had received from Saxton Hale, sticking it into the gate's lock, then promptly stepped back as the lock and key erupted in flames. "The Engineer chuckled at the survivor's stunned looks, "Self-destruct mechanism, Mann Co. uses it on their crates too," the gate swung open, creaking on rusted hinges.

The Sniper drove his van out from the well secluded spot it had been hidden in. He had retained his usual good mood, and cheerfully greeted the Survivors, and passed around cups of coffee. Despite the van's somewhat grubbiness, the coffee and lack of zombies began to bring Coach back to a good mood he had before the infection had broken out.

Coach squinted at the other fort, which had been constructed in an exact copy of the mercenary's fort. For a moment he thought he saw men climbing into another van on the other side of the fence. He shook his head, gulping down more of the strong coffee, he was just tired.

As the van pulled away from 2 fort, Coach noticed something else, a large circular...thing, above the roof of the BLU fort, glowing eerily, it seemed to pulse with energy, a whirlwind of blue and green energy. This time it couldn't be a hallucination, he called over the others, who crowded around the van's tiny window.

The Engineer cursed, stomping his foot, "ah was afraid of this happenin'..." He turned to face the survivors, looking unspeakably grim. "A portal, first ah've seen in...so many years, it's a gate, if sorts, but it can be used in more than one way."

The Engy bought out a strange looking device, a hollow center, with two arms extending out to either side. Placing the device on the floor, the Engy activated it usig a switch on it's side. The machine flickered to life, arms extending and broadening, until it became large enough for a man to stand on, slowly, it began to spin, trailing blue sparks. Soon, the device was spinning fast enough to become a continuous disc of blue light. "Teleporter." the Engy answered to the survivors dumbfounded stares, "it's a miniature, one way portal, mah great grandfather wrote half a library on portals, he was obsessed, even after perfectin' teleportation, he wanted to go further, he had the heart of a lion, that one, kept workin' well past his time. ah found him one day, ah had been livin' with him at the time, and ah was woken by some sounds in his lab, ah went ta investigate. Ah saw him then, he was close to death, old as the hills, but still full of energy, he was standing in front of a portal, the first one ever in existence, a...ah can still see it ta this day, he was thin as a wire, suspended by life support to keep him goin', the outline of the portal against his frame...he looked young again, happy. Then he...let go, went on through the portal and took half the lab with him, ah barely escaped with ma life, and when ah came to, ah was in hospital, missin' ma right hand, never saw ma great grandpa or arm again. I thought ah'd never see another portal, but..."

The Engy shook his head, unable to go on. "That's when ah went over to the war as a mercenary for them Germans, met ma team, and ah've been happily workin' with'em ever since."

The others didn't need to hear anymore, the survivors stood there, realizing the magnitude of what had just been said, could do nothing more but contemplate what they could do.

Francis, always the pessimist, broke the uncomfortable silence. "Well, looks like we ain't gonna be able to get home, now that settled, anyone here wanna grab a shotgun and head on over with me to the nearest town?"

Bill was tempted to slap Francis over the back of the head, instead, he directed his anguished companions to see the big picture. "Are you kidding me? This is great! We're finally out of that shithole and if it means leaving our bloodied, shredded lives behind us, I say good riddance."

Coach took up his chainsaw, checking it for any signs of damage. "Look here, old man. If we came through that portal, and it's still open, what's to stop them infected coming through?"

"Errrm...I think we have bigger problems," the Sniper called from the driver seat. Everyone rushed over to see what the problem was, almost causing the sniper to lose control of his vehicle.

A tall black wall, adorned with danger and radioactivity warnings, surrounded a circular area, blocking what was inside from view, though a large glowing orb could be seen sticking up above the wall. They knew this had to be nucleus, without asking. The only way in appeared to be a huge iron gate, topped with barbed wire.

That wasn't the problem. A huge pile of bodies, tall enough to dwarf the nucleus walls, sat directly in front of the van, even from here the survivors recognized the scowling expressions and paled skin of the infected. More swarmed from all directions, almost a moving sea of zombies. There must have been several towns nearby, emptied out by infection. While nobody knew how the infection spread, it obviously spread fast.

Standing on the top of the hill, beams of the setting sun creating a halo of light around him, Saxton Hale stood, effortlessly scything through hordes of incoming infected with his huge fists. At his side stood a young women, in her mid-twenties, hair packed into a tight bun, she wore formal business attire and large glasses, she wielded a huge silver revolver, firing down on her enemies with fierce precision.

The survivors brought out their weapons, Francis casually tossed a pipe bomb out the window. The zombies swarmed after the bomb, giving the two figures on top of the hill a chance to get down. Saxton Hale grabbed the young woman and slid down the hill, using a infected body as a sled. In an instant they were next to the van.

The mercenaries donned their weapons, making sure everything was working properly, the Engy pulled a thick yellow glove over his mechanical hand. The spy casually checked his watch, disappearing entirely, his voice seemed to come from thin air, "I will sneak behind them, perhaps we could find out how this...infection spread so quickly."

The remaining mercenaries climbed out of the van, priming their weapons, the survivors climbed out after them, hardly able to believe they the bloody infection had followed them across a world.

The soldier hefted Francis's shotgun, snorting, "what is this, a steam-stick? Get a real weapon, private." he handed Francis a large green rocket launcher, the united states army logo stamped across it's side. Francis hefted the huge weapon, grinning feverishly, "man, ya don't know how hard I tried to get one of these back in my biking days, wouldn't sell me one, something bout being...let me get this right...'shifty, violent and mentally impaired'." The Soldier patted Francis on the back, "The armies said the same thing about me, damn commies...good thing Tavish here and me bought a ticket to Germany, joined up with Medic over there, never looked back."

The mercenaries seemed so...casual, blasting away hordes of infected with ease a they advanced toward the gate, they chatted with the survivors all the while, happily discussing their old lives.

The Demoman, Tavish Degroot, gave the soldier a hug, "ahhh, Jane Doe here is me best mate, convinced me to use me talent with bombs to be a mercenary, despite me missin eye."

The Soldier snorted, "that is not a disability, a missing eye doesn't make you see things that aren't there." The Soldier lifted his helmet, shocking the survivors as his eyes were revealed, golden irises, with tiny black pupils. That wasn't the most shocking thing about those eyes, the two eyes seemed to be looking in different directions, a lazy eye.

The soldier saw their reactions and replaced his helmet, hiding his eyes again, "that, my men, is a real disability, that's why I was rejected from every branch of the US army. Good thing ol' Tavish here was able to convince me into going to Germany with him." he shrugged, "it doesn't bother me so much, but it did earn me a nickname of..."

"Ah Derpy Doe, come give us a hand here will ya?"

The Soldier scowled, lifting his massive weapon, "I swear, one...more...time..." he ran off to assist the Sniper, busy trying to hold off a large horde of infected.

The Mercenaries gradually divided into teams, with the survivors following. The Heavy and the Medic dashed off towards Saxton Hale and the young lady, with Zoey and Ellis (who seemed flushed and infatuated) following them. The Demoman grabbed the pyro by his backpack, and dragged him towards a particularly large group of infected. Coach and Francis ran off after them. Rochelle and Louis hurried to catch up with the spy and Engineer, who were busy discussing strategies to deal with this outbreak. The Scout ran off towards the Sniper and the Soldier, who were already struggling with the main chunk of the horde,  swinging his baseball bat while swigging from a purple can, the remaining survivors, Bill and Nick, followed him.

The day had only just begun...

________________________________________________________________________________________________

In the shadows, an infected stood, twitching. He was a normal infected, but his cells were changing, muscles rippling as they tore through his skin. He continued to grow, taller and stronger, all remaining reason being replaced by anger and pain.

Transformation complete, the tank bared his fists and roared to the setting sun in defiance and blind rage. Sensing prey nearby, he lumbered off towards them, drooling with the need to destroy something...

The battle for Nucleus now begins...

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hey there, sorry for the huge delay, i just had too much to write about tf2, and i felt i had to set the stage for my future chapters, now turns out i have to split it into two parts, the next will be "the battle for nucleus" featuring Chell, Weatley and SPAAAAAAACE.

COME AT ME ALL YOU GRAMMER NAZIS, I AIN'T AFRAID OF YOU

/) brohoof to ya'll (\

PS. I hate school