Jack’s world turned from brilliant white to blue in a matter of moments. It then shifted rapidly between dull watery blue and heat-scorched sand as his body was sent tumbling like an armoured ragdoll. He barely felt the impact his body made against the dirty roadside ditch. His eyes rolled around in his head, causing his new world to spin continuously as the taste of salty copper mixed with the burning tang of cordite in his mouth and a high pitched keening noise consumed his hearing. The single note screeched in his head as blood leaked out of his burst eardrums. The world slowly began to stop spinning, and he was idly aware of a light pounding that surrounded him. Whether it was automatic gunfire or his own heart failing, he couldn’t tell. The only thought he could fully form was about the swansong in his ears.

Without warning, the world flooded back in through the shattered faceshield of his EOD armour. Tracers streaked over him, and he was faintly aware someone was tugging at him. Jack slowly blinked, his vision tinted a foggy red from the blood dribbling into his eyes. He tried to blink it away, before a familiar face appeared inside his slowly darkening cone of vision. A faint, delirious smile crossed Jack’s blood smeared features.

“hi mark…”

The man hunched over him looked panicked, and that was an incredibly bad thing. Mark jerked a look over his shoulder, before firing off a short burst from his spiker; the weapons barrel steamed in the midday heat. He turned back, and yelled something silently at Jack. Jack blinked hard, and slowly became aware of his body. Swallowing dryly, he managed to mumble to the other soldier.

“mark… mark, i can’t feel my legs… i can’t feel my legs man…” Jack coughed roughly, and his cone of vision flickered black. Mark squeezed his eyes closed; what looked like tears streaked his sooty cheeks, mixing with the foreign blood that was spattered there. He grabbed Jack by his thick kevlar collar and said something mutely. Whatever he said, it seemed to be incredibly important, but Jack couldn’t make out even the faintest of sounds; his own voice was mute, save for the reverberations it sent through his chest. Mark’s face disappeared from his vision, and Jack felt the edging knife of panic work its way deep into his heart. “mark? mark where are you man… please don… please… don’t..” Jack blinked rapidly as his vision continued to darken, and he found himself falling into the abyss.

Within moments, he became keenly aware of his body. Arching his back with a howl that would haunt his own dreams for years; Jack found his senses returning without any subtlety or tack. The smell of burning meat and cordite filled his nostrils, and the lance of thermic pain grew even hotter around his thighs. Thrashing and writhing in pain, Jack felt two pairs of hands holding him down as the pain increased two-fold. Another calm thought crossed through the back of his mind.

The Med-Gen Thermic Patch is designed to cauterize lost limbs so to allow wounded to survive long enough to reach proper medical care. Some activists pin them as ‘unethical’.

Haha.

A long, whimpering moan escaped his parched throat as the burning pain subsided, only to be replaced by a throbbing crackle. He felt somebody cutting open his body armour, but he couldn’t find the strength to lift himself up to see who it was.

“just hold on! i’ll get you out of here man! just hold on!”

The words sounded as if they were a mile away, and coming through water. More likely through blood. Jack was barely conscious as his thick chestplate was peeled back, and his sweat stiffened fatigues were ripped open. A needle jab punched into his chest, and a tingling sensation spread through his body like wild-fire. Abruptly, his senses flooded back once again, and the world burst into brilliant colour. Tracers whipped overhead like psychotic wasps, the MRAP was a blazing wreck, bodies littered the road and sand like discarded toys; in all the chaos and confusion, somebody shoved an abused Sig Sauer 226 into his clenching hand. Somebody lifted him up by his pull strap, and started pulling Jack away from all the death and fire.

Dark figures moved around near the edge of Jack’s vision; armed with deadly looking rifles, they moved forward to claim their final kills. One of the figures grew too bold, and pulled out from behind a mound of rocks with his rifle raised. Jack’s arm jerked up as potent adrenaline flooded his system and his trigger finger pulsed three times. The figure jerked as if palsied, before flopping over backwards like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. The .40 cal pistol bucked and barked in Jack’s adrenaline fueled grip. His eyes were saucer wide and his pupils were mere black pinpricks that darted to and fro to lead his iron sights.

Bang bang bang

Another three shots rang out nearly mute to his bleeding ears, and another figure stumbled behind cover.

Bang bang bang

Pink foam started to collect on Jacks lips, and was soon flecked across his chest and ruined fatigues as he heaved breath after breath through the searing pain.

Bang bang bang-clack

The slide stuck back, leaving the action smoking and exposed to the open air. Jack’s eyes widened in adrenaline fueled fear as another figure appeared. Tracer spikes arced over his head, and the figure went down in clumps and pieces. Mark stepped over Jack, and took a knee inside the ditch. He fired off another swift burst, before jerking a look over his shoulder to motion and yell something to whoever was still dragging Jack’s body. Mark turned his head back to the fight just in time to see the man who’s rifle would strike him down. The steel spike punched into his left hand, shredding the tough skin, shattering the bones, and blowing the trigger assembly of his spiker to hundreds of bits. Mark screamed as bone and machined aluminum shrapnel perforated his cheek; he fell over backwards, clenching the spurting, ruined stump where his mechanic’s hand had been only moments ago. His wide eyes met Jack’s, just as the figures set upon them.

In that moment, the world froze. Everything stopped, and the pain went away. Jack blinked, and looked around. The keening in his ears was gone; replacing it was the sound of a woman heaving and failing to hold back tears.

“i said… Enough.”

Rolling onto his stomach, Jack pushed up until he was standing on his two feet. A glance down confirmed that they were still the surgical steel and composite ceramic legs Hades Int. had given him. Slowly looking up, his eyes fell on the woman in the deep blue ball gown. She was shivering, and looking beyond him. She shuddered, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Jack quirked both brows as he stared at her. With cautious worry, Jack took a single step forward as he spoke softly.

“I… God?”

The woman blinked, and looked over to him, as if it was the first time she’d truly looked at him. She stared at him almost equally before answering. “No… No human, I am not your… God.” She looked around at the frozen carnage before shivering. “what god could allow this-”

“If you’re not God, then who the fuck are you?” Jack’s tone had an edge of bite to it, to mask his own confusion and intense worry. He stayed still, with his boots planted firmly in the sand.

She looked up at him, her expression growing softer; more calm. The look had a calming affect on him as well, as he felt his hackles lowering. “My name is Princess Luna. You are… Jack?”

Nodding, he took another few steps forward; mindful to step over the headless corpse of the squad driver. His grey matter was plastered across an old mud-brick wall; a piece of his jaw and what could have been anything rested inside a split open combat helmet. One of the drivers brown eyes was intact, and staring blankly at the pair. “Jack. Specialist Jack Kessle.” He did a misplaced curtsey as he started to grin. “Yer’ Majesty.”

The lunar princess smiled graciously at his misused formal greeting. “I am… pleased to make your acquaintance.” She swallowed as she looked over the carnage. “so much blood… You lost so much blood, I didn’t think it would be possible to survive something like… this.”

A sardonic smirk spread across Jack’s face. “Well, I mighta lost a lotta blood, but they found most of it!” He laughed weakly at his own joke; it was a laugh the princess couldn’t bring herself to match.

“Of course… Jack, do you know why I have such difficulties with your dreams?” She looked him over; her eyes flitting across his body with intense curiosity.

“My dreams? What? Are you some kinda… Dream.. fairy… princess?” Jack asked as his features screwed up in confusion. Luna lifted a finger, before curling it up so she could rub her face with annoyance.

“So you do not know then…” He simply shrugged, and started looking around the area with vacant interest. The cold detachment sent a shiver down her spine as she opened her mouth to speak. “Jack, forgive my asking, but… What happened to your friend?” She pointed at the still-frame screaming Mark. She frowned as he turned away and pinched his nose with two fingers. Luna’s eyes went wide as the scene snapped forward. Several men wearing shemaghs were circled around a seated Jack and Mark, who was tied to a short pole. Mark looked as if he’d been severely beaten, and was close to losing consciousness. A pug faced, narrow eyed short man walked over to the bound pair with a pistol in his hand.

Jack frowned heavily as he kept his eyes closed; he was oblivious to the scene unfolding. “He didn’t make it.”

The short, slant eyed man grabbed Jack by the mouth, and wrestled the pistol into his hand. Forcing Jack’s fingers around its lacquered wooden grip; the man grinned with perfect pearly white teeth. The pug-faced man cackled silently as he gripped Jacks head, forcing him to look at the silently pleading Mark. The legless Jack screamed silently and ineffectively as the short man pulled his finger back, and the pistol flared bright. Mark jerked on the post as a bloody blossom sprouted from the left of his chest. His eyes widened with shock and betrayal as he look slowly up from his sucking wound to the silently sobbing Jack. The pug-faced man ripped the pistol from his grip, and shoved Jack's head hard enough to bounce it off the old concrete floor. Turning her back on the scene, Luna pressed a hand against her smooth, porcelain-esque face.

“I…” She took a moment to compose herself. “I apologize for your loss, Jack Kessle.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but found the words catch in her throat as Jack turned, and stared at her. What Luna found staring at her wasn’t in any sense of the word ‘Right’. Whatever passed behind his eyes for that split moment was wild. Wild, furious, and deadly. It was snuffed out in a mere moment; submerged within a emerald sea of off-putting calm.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his stubbly cheek for a moment. “So now what? Are we gonna stand here awkwardly, or is something gonna happen?” He shifted from boot to boot in annoyance.

Luna blinked, before smiling weakly. “Well Jack, I do believe I have partially answered my earlier question. These are not dreams, nor are they nightmares. They are simply memories, playing onward and onward without changes or bias. My magic has difficulties forcing change into such a constant.” She regained some of her regal grace; her movements looked seamless and completely fluid as she closed the distance between them.

Stiffening at the growing closeness, Jack twisted his features up. “Magic? Are you-” He paused, and let out a groan. “Of course you’re serious. Outstanding! Fuck me.”

Luna jerked away from him as if she'd been slapped. “I shall do no such thing!” She squawked indignantly, and crossed her arms protectively over herself. A snorting laugh escaped from Jack as he looked over at the woman, only to start laughing harder. His face flushed red as he doubled over and continued laughing. Shifting in confusion, Luna blinked at the sudden outburst. “I… do not understand…?”

Jack’s laughter diminished to enthused giggles and the odd coughs. “Oh god, that’s great. I swear, you’re worse than Flitter.” He chuckles again, and straightens out. “This whole world is like some messed up PG kids show, complete with good ol’ zombies and human slavery; it’s fuckin hilarious!” He grinned, and assumed an enthused, vacant look. “Today’s special guest is an Ex-Marine, he’ll teach you all how to cuss and draw dicks on everything!” He chuckled again at his brand of humour; Jack barely noticed that Luna was not laughing along.

Staring at the giggling marine, Luna couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief and rub her face. A quiet sigh was breathed out from between her slight lips, and was soon followed by a question. “Jack, I need you to think of something that makes you happy.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Jack immediately stopped laughing, and regarded Luna with a curious look. “Happy? alright… happy… happyhappyhappy…” He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate hard. He lifted up a hand and started counting on his fingers. “Alcohol-” The landscape of his dreamscape shifted, becoming a swirling mass. “Recoil-” The imagery began to take shape of what looked to be a cave. “New titty mags-” A small fire crackled before Luna and Jack, with two indiscernible figures seated before it. “Uhhh… Soft beds, warm showers, and good steak.” He grinned, and nodded as if to agree with himself. “Yep! That’s what makes me happy.” His eyes wandered to the fully formed picture.

In the dream, Jack was seated on his log before the crackling and snapping fire, with Flitter fidgeting in his lap.

“Ouch.”

“Stop fidgeting.”

“OUCH!”

"Stop whining."

"Ow."

"Stop moving."

"Make me! OW!"

The dream Jack chuckled lightly as he pulled prickly burs from the mares mane and coat. He flicked them into the fire as he worked, causing it to pop and crackle. Watching the exchange, Jack smiled weakly as he looked over at Luna. He looked away from her once again to rub his cheek. As Luna watched the quiet exchange as a small, appreciative smile crossed her own soft features.

“I see…” She turned to Jack, and took a step towards him. “I can force your dreams away from your memories; allow you to sleep peacefully once more.” She laid a gentle hand down on his shoulder.

Turning his head to regard the regal princess; Jack nodded once. “Just black will be fine. A quiet rest would be better than anything else.” He sighed quietly, before looking around the expanse. “So this is the inside of my head?”

Luna nodded once in confirmation. “A glimpse into your subconscious. My magic is allowing you to remain here and comprehend what is happening. You are still sound asleep.”

Quirking a brow, he couldn’t help but laugh shortly. “Sounds hinky. Like one of those threads on tulpas and other bullshit.” He continued to look around, before closing his eyes to focus. The dreamscape shifted, depositing them onto the sidelines of what seemed to be a high school rugby game. Jack opened his eyes, and grinned happily. “This is fuckin wicked. That’s my first rugby game!” He coughed. “Also last…”

Watching with bated interest, Luna’s eyes wandered to the sidelines, where a large group of humans were gathered. Around eight of them were holding up a homemade banner that read ‘Go #82!’ A quick glance saw a much younger, and more stringy looking Jack wearing a #82 jersey. Luna regarded the group with increased wonder. “Is that your family? There’s quite a few of them.”

“Yeah, some of em. George and Sophia weren’t born yet- Oh shit, it’s uncle Dim!” Jack’s eyes shone with boyish excitement. “I didn’t even know he’d shown up.” He pointed at one of the largest humans Luna had ever laid eyes on standing behind the rest of Jack’s family. He was roughly 6’7”, and easily three hundred pounds. The man's head was shaved down to a clean high and tight haircut. He looked like a bear, and had the presence of a mean one. Luna watched as a rail thin man wearing reading glasses slid into ‘Uncle Dim’s' arms, before pecking him on the bottom of the jaw. Dim smiled happily, and held the smaller man close as they watched with the rest of the Kessle clan as the game kicked off. Jack leaned over as his eyes remained fixed on the opening of the game. “Uncle Dmitry is an ex-Spetsnaz bruiser. Married my Uncle William when I was eleven, after he emigrated from Russia to Canada, five years prior.” He grinned as the scrum started, but it was swiftly swapped for a scowl as a thicknecked opponent elbowed the younger Jack in the nose. Even from the sidelines, it was obvious it was broken. As fast as Luna could Blink, Jacks elbow caught the offenders jaw and set him to the ground. The whip-like younger Jack pounced on him, and started raining blows down upon the stunned teenager. The opposing team grabbed at him, only to have the scrim devolve into a full-blown fistfight. The younger Jack scrambled over the thrashing bruiser; locking his opponents ankle into his hands and rolling onto his back. The larger teens eyes bulged, and he let out a shriek as his calf was crushed and his leg broken. Whistles were being blown, and teachers were flooding the field to break up the fight.

One furious adult, presumably the teens father, tried to storm onto the field to accost the bleeding Jack. He didn’t get far. Luna blinked, and noticed that Uncle Dmitry and the other teens father were suddenly nowhere to be found. By the time she returned her gaze to the field, the teen who had started the entire altercation was moaning in horrid pain and Jack was being escorted off the field as his family watched on and his mother rubbed her eyes in frustration. His brothers cheered him on and his sisters smirked in approval.

The image distorted, leaving the pair standing in what seemed like nothingness. Jack chuckled lightly, and rubbed his nose where it tweaked over so slightly. “They had to put sixteen rods and pins in his leg for a year just so he could hobble straight. He lost two teeth, and had to get a plate in his jaw from where I introduced it to my elbow.” He chuckled darkly. “I was banned from any and all school sports teams, including the ping pong team. Got threatened with expulsion, but... he started it.”

Shaking her head, Luna looked over Jack incredulously. “Why would you do that? It was simply a game.” She cocked her head ever so slightly, and waited with interest for his reply.

“Because nobody fucks with the Kessle’s. He was a bully, so I gave him a reminder.” Jack set his jaw, and the image of a sniveling little boy covered in bloody scrapes and purple bruises came up. “Prick used to bully my little siblin’s when Jules, Jacob, and myself weren’t around. Got his sick little kicks out of beating the shit out of kids.” He smirked. “So Uncle Dim taught us all Sambo, and I joined the rugby team. I knew we’d face off eventually. We did, and I won.” His smirk spread into a shit-eating grin. "Totally worth it."

An appreciative smile spread across Luna’s lips. “I see. Family is very important to you…” She creased her brow as she considered something. “What is Flitter to you Jack?”

The question made Jack blink in surprise, before turning to stare at the smaller woman as he tried to weed out exactly what she meant. “She’s a great kid. Good heart-” He paused, as if considering his next words. “Soul of a true marine.” He thumped his chest. “That makes her family. She looks out for me, and I look out for her. Simple as that.”

Luna smiled, and nodded once again. She looked up at Jack, a curious look on her soft features. “A true marine? What do you mean by that? What is a marine-” She jerked as a loud bleating noise overcame them, and the dreamscape fell apart around them. The princess tried to yell something out to Jack, but he was already waking.

Jerking up in bed, Jack slapped ineffectively at his PDA in an attempt to at least hit the snooze button. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he finally found it, silencing the alarm for a few minutes. Jack fell back onto his cot and rubbed his eyes with his calloused fingers. As he thought over his terribly odd dream, he could only muster one single thought in return.

What the actual fuck.