Awakening peacefully to the sound of birds chirping outside the window, Flitter murmured happily as she felt the warm sun on her fur. Cracking open an eye, she felt her heart swell with happiness when she found herself still snuggled up next to Jack's comatose form. All was quiet, save for the chirping birds and Jack's soft snoring. Smiling to herself, Flitter nuzzled into his chest, and pulled the cover just a little closer.

Her morning pleasure was cut brutally short when a hoof knocked rapidly on the door to the room, and Jack snorted awake. Before Flitter could say a word, Jack had drawn the pistol under his pillow out and was falling into a well trained rut he could perform in his sleep. Slipping from the bed, he approached the door and spoke. “Who is it?”

He didn't recognise the voice that answered. “I'm Sergeant Woodstock sir, can you open the door?”

Quietly cocking back the hammer of his pistol, Jack cracked the door. Outside stood a lone stallion, dressed in plain olive fatigues. The pony saluted. “Morning sir, I'm with the new militia. I was told to relay a message to you.”

Calming down somewhat, Jack opened the door a little more, but didn't uncock the hammer. “I'm listening.”

“You're supposed to come to the airfield right away. They said a ship was coming?”

Pushing aside his morning fog, Jack yawned and nodded. “Alright. Thanks for the message, Sergeant.” Again the pony saluted while saying his goodbyes, and swiftly cantered off through the halls. Closing the door with a sigh, Jack rubbed at his scarred temple. “I guess sleeping in is out of the option. You still awake Flitter?”

Nodding from her place on the bed, Flitter remained silent on what she'd been watching during the entire exchange. “Do you need help finding your clothes, Jack?” Though she didn't mind watching him prance around in his underwear, she knew some might.

Waving off her offer as Jack found his pants, he began changing quietly. Remaining silent until fully dressed, Jack pulled on his concealed holster and stuffed his revolver back inside. “Ugh, what I wouldn't do for a handful of coffee beans. Or coffee.”

“Not a morning person?” Flitter asked with a smirk.

“The marine corp decided I should be. It stuck, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.” Yawning again, Jack motioned to the door. “Come on Sparky, you’re not allowed to stay in bed while I deal with crap. I'm taking you with me.”

Doing her best to hide her smile, Flitter shot Jack a mild salute and followed with a “Yes sir, Captain Jack sir.”

The brisk walk to the airfield only gave the pair a cursory glance through passing windows, though what little they saw of the outside was telling. The castle grounds had been turned into a tent city, with hundreds of volunteers camping out and going through the rushed militia training. Thankfully, the royal guard seemed to still have a large presence, meaning they hadn't been defeated in many of their operations. There was little wonder what the rest of the city looked like with refugees from dozens of villages and towns streaming in all around the clock. Soon enough, the airfield was before the pair, and it was even more busy than before. Spotting the Royal Princesses was easy, as they both stood before the moored imperial corvette, alongside Princess Gilda and her guard. The crew of the ship were slowly being led off at gunpoint, though it was clear there would be very little resistance from them.

Marching up drew Luna's attention, and she nodded in acknowledgement to the swift salutes she received. “Good, you have arrived. We-”

“Sister.” Celestia interrupted, drawing Luna's attention back. The captain of the vessel was the last one descending the gangplank, and though he wore an immaculate dress uniform, he had doffed his cap and looked like a man ravaged by what he'd seen. Coming to a halt before the group, the Captain pulled his sword free from his belt. As the guard tensed and prepared to strike him down, the Captain knelt, and offered the sword to Celestia.

“We surrender unconditionally.”

After a single second of pause, Celestia took the sword from the captain. “We accept. Do not fear, captain. We know that neither you, nor your crew had any say in what has happened. All I ask is that you tell us what has been happening across the border.”

Standing tall, the ex-captain nodded, before bowing again to Gilda. “Empress Gilda. Myself and the men are elated that you're alive.”

“Oh.” The princess seemed to freeze a little in surprise, clearly unsure as to how to respond. “Erm… thanks?”

Taking what little he could from the out of depth princess, the captain looked back to the others. “Please take care of my crew. We haven't had proper food in some few days besides-” he suddenly stopped himself, grimacing like a guilty man. “I'll tell you everything. Please, just… take care of my boys.”

Sensing that something was deeply wrong, Celestia agreed without hesitation. “Of course. Please, come with us, and I'll see that your crew is handled with the utmost care. We are not enemies, Captain.”

Swallowing thickly, the captain couldn't bring himself to look up at the diarchs. “You may not hold that sentiment for long, Princess Celestia.”

With the ship's crew quarantined and seen to, Celestia led the group deep into the castle, into the war room. Taking a seat, and motioning for the others to do the same, Celestia steepled her hooves before herself, and waited. Once everyone was seated, she spoke. “Start from the top, Captain. I assure you, you have our full attention.”

“I am… was, Captain Mattias, and I have served the empire loyally from the day my primaries grew in. It is with… heavy heart, that I must turn against it, but for the good of my people, for… for the good of the world, I must. Carolus and his generals are committing genocide.”

As mouth fell open and quiet gasps sounded, Jack let out a sigh and looked up to the ceiling. “Hell…”

“What do you mean, Mattias?” Celestia pressed onwards with great attention.

“Operational security doesn't exist anymore. With the country fully under his control, Carolus feels he can't be beaten, and he's thrown all tactics and caution out the window. The armies are… they are a front. They are only in place to keep Equestria, and the Elements, busy.” Confusion reigned as Mattias held his gaze firmly on the table. “Our ships are unfinished, weapons untested… we don't have enough supplies for extended operations. My crew was… starving… And whatever Carolus put in our heads just…” Mattias let out a shivering breath as he cradled his head in his claws. “They are forcing us to cannibalism. We're trapped in our own minds and forced to watch.”

Horrified gasps washed across the room like a tide. Covering her mouth with a hoof, Celestia too looked to the table to attempt to hide her utter revulsion.

“Captain.” Jack's voice rose above the waves of disgust that washed through the room. All eyes flicked to the human as he leaned forward, crossing his arm on the table. “You said, the army is a front. For what.” Gone was any hint or notion of unprofessionalism Jack ever held; in its place was a rigid marine who wanted answers.

Still unable to lift his eyes off the table, Mattias gestured weakly as he gathered his thoughts. “I… cannot say for certain. I have only been able to learn pieces… the control doesn't allow for questions, you see-”

“Stop dancing around the issue and talk.” Jack growled, earning several glares from around the room.

“Aye… aye…” Mattias looked up toward Jack as he ran a paw over his crest. “Our… civilians. Our people are… they are being rounded up. Shipped off. I do not know what becomes of them. All I know, is supplies come in, and more of those freakish progeny show up by the day…”

Luna scowled as she thumped a hoof off the table. “We must learn what his game is, at once!”

Nodding safely, Celestia sat tall. “Indeed we must. It is imperative we unearth these plans and bring a stop to them immediately.”

“It all sounds straightforward to me.” Jack had leaned back into his chair, though his hard look of stoic distaste had not left his face. “It makes sense, sort of. He's balled up everything he can grab, and thrown it at us to keep us busy. We're looking at a huge force to be sure, but we're looking at all they've got. All those towns, cities, little non-strategic hamlet's of hillbillies and dirt farmers, being taken by their army. They're taking the people, either eating them, makin’ ‘em monsters, or sending them at us.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and quietly lit it as the others looked to him. “Order wants to wipe the slate clean. No way better than to do it with twisted little abominations.”

Shaking her head, Luna pressed forward. “I still refuse to believe it. He cannot wish to wipe out all life on the planet! He is a god, he has the power to do so, so why wouldn't he?”

“You see-” Jack took a drag of his cigarette as he collected his thoughts. “I was wondering that myself. Came up with a Jarhead theory. He's Discords angsty brother, right? Meaning they've got roughly the same amount of power. Maybe. Now, when Discord took over the first time, it took him a while to fuck the world. Case in point, when he came back the most recent time, he only managed to fuck a fairly small area up at any given time. What if, these gods, don't have the juice to do it all in one go? What if they aren't gods at all?” He left the question hanging in the air for the moment as the voices in his head started bickering.

I could have thrown the entire world into chaos at any time I wanted! It’s just not fun to do that.

Snorting, Jack thought back a snappy response as Flitter glanced at him. Right, and that’s why you’re a shit covered lawn ornament, and one of the remaining fragments of your psyche is stuck playing copilot to a neurotic masochistic dopefiend with violent tendencies.

You… are not wrong. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though!

“Jack?” Flitter spoke quietly to him as the others discussed the topic he had brought up. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, he rubbed her wing lightly as he turned his attention back to the table. “Now.” All eyes fell back on him. “Going off of what’s been gathered and said, Carolus and his Generals are under Order’s control. Order fancies himself a god, and what care does a god have for tactics? I mean, fuck, why bother, right? When you can just mind-control whole swathes of folks, turn the ground upside down, or cause a global fuckin’ flood, who gives a shit about the subtlety of tactics?” Jack rolled his hand as he conjured more of his thought process. “I’m just drawing what I see here, don’t take my words as gospel. Now, this, believe it or not, is good for us. He’s sitting there high and mighty, with his thumb up his ass as his mind-slaves are stuck on repeat about how great he is and how his plans are the hottest shit since nutella spread. He’s wasting resource after resource chasing stupid shit and keeping us busy, just to keep us all from ganging up and dunking his punk ass. Deep down he knows we can, because why else would he even fucking bother? We can win this, we just need to be smarter than he is.”

Looking troubled, Celestia slowly nodded at the thought. “I pray your thought has merit, but… I cannot take my mind off of what may be happening to those poor civilians. They cannot be… turning them into the progeny, can they? I have only heard of such techniques in the deepest, darkest of our legends, and even then, the only references are incredibly vague, and … often contradictory.”

“What else could they be doing?” Luna questioned darkly. “If what the Captain says is true, then Carolus is killing his people, one way or another. And he must be stopped. We have all seen the recordings of the Progeny Jack has fought, and the reports mark the last as disturbingly cat-like. It is not too far fetched that they are using their populace somehow to make these monsters.”

“I can attest to the report.” Snubbing his cigarette on the heel of his boot, Jack stood, and gestured toward the location of the known battlegroup. “He’s hitting us like a hammer. He’s thinking he’s invincible, hiding behind his Progeny and mind control, using the griffon armed forces to put us on the defensive. The Militia and the Guard can be the anvil, to beat back the bulk forces, and hold the line. JSOG will be the scalpel that hamstrings them. He didn’t know the mind control could be stopped, and now we’ve got insider knowledge. I’d wager not a whole lot of those soldiers of his want to be a meatshield for his little freakshow. We hunt down more of those mask wearers, and bust them near large troop concentrations, I'd bet the rest of my smokes that they'd rather fight on the side that doesn't force cannibalism.”

Looking away from the table and to a guard who stood by the door, Celestia silently beckoned them over, “Please, take the Captain to his men, and see they are treated with the utmost dignity and respect.”

As the guard nodded, the Captain shook his head, and slowly worked his claws into his feathers. “No… nono! You don’t understand, they control the entire country! Everyone marches to their tune, they are all puppets now, but the higher ups, they aren’t puppets!” All fell silent as the captain shuddered. “The more important you are, the… the less control is exerted. It stops being forceful, and becomes this… this intense compulsion to follow the desires of your leader. If you fight it, you are struck with agony, and pain, and more control… Those who want what he wants, are given the most freedom, to do whatever they wish! His generals are all griffons who wish to see the Empire rule the world, and will do anything to see that wish come true…” Mattias was beginning to draw blood with his talons as they sunk into the soft flesh of his skull. “I can still feel those needles… sticking into my brain, and… gods the pleasures… it felt so good to do what we were doing! We cannot fight this! This is the future of the world!” Looking up with tears streaking the edge of his eyes, he seemed to implore those before him. “How do you fight a god that makes you enjoy eating your crew?” He asked softly as Jack rose from his seat.

Rolling his jaw, Jack didn’t look to the griffon. “Do what you want. Hide. Pray. Fight. Whatever. I’m fighting, till the bitter, bloody end. Right down to my teeth and nails, I’m fighting. Semper Fi.” He looked aside to regard the two rulers in the room he respected. “I’m going to square away my people. When you’ve got a mission for a pack of pissed off scalpels, you know where to find us.”

With a soft sigh, Celestia nodded, and dismissed Jack and Flitter from the room. As he exited the doors, Celestia turned toward Gilda, as Luna had the guards escort the broken griffon out of the room. “Princess, we will need to discuss the future of your country, immediately.”

Looking positively ill from the Captain's words, Gilda took a long moment to respond. “I loved my brother… I never wanted to lead the country, I wanted to leave it to him…” Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, Gilda slowly let out a shuddering breath. “I just… I just want to hope, and pray, and… whatever, that he's… that this Order dweeb is in control, and not him. He's… he's all I have left…”

“Princess Gilda, you have my word, as diarch of my lands, that we will do everything in our power to capture your brother, and discover the truth.” Celestia placed a hoof on the beleaguered griffons shoulder, and offered her a steady smile.

Hanging her head, Gilda let out a soft sigh. “I just hope there's something left after all this…”

Striding down the halls toward the barracks, Jack was dictating plans to Flitter as they passed by royals guards and militia members.

“Let's get a list of everyone hurt in the operation. I don't care how light. We gotta send them in to get checked over. While that's going on, let's do an inventory check, and stock up on what we're missing. I need to know where everybody's head is at and you're the only person who can do that. I need you to be the face they all come to, I know you know them a fucksight better than I do.”

“Of course, I already had plans to do all of that. What about Private Marvich?” Flitter questioned as she floated along next to him.

“I'll talk to him. I want you to go over squads with everyone. Split them up into semi-even teams. I don't think throwing all of us at a problem from here on is going to work, so let's try and keep it to squads of five and ten. You're the brains here Flitter, you actually know what the fuck we're doing, so I'm counting on you.” Jack muttered lightly as he lit his next smoke.

Rolling her eyes, Flitter placed a hoof on his shoulder and allowed him to drag her through the air. “I wouldn't say that. Sure, you didn't go through OCS, but you're a very good leader. The princesses wouldn't have you leading us all if they thought you were incompetent.”

“A competent leader wouldn't have gotten nearly an entire platoon of the world's best killed or captured.” The pain that laced the comment caused Flitter to flinch instinctively. Rubbing his ruined cheek, Jack slowed to a halt as he let out a soft sigh. “Sorry, just…” Waving his hand idly, he soon let it fall to his side in exasperation.

Flapping her wings to keep herself aloft, Flitter gave his shoulder a well meaning rub with her hoof. “It’s okay Jack… we can win this. I believe in you, and I believe in us.” She smiled softly as a faint smile graced his ruined face.

“Good enough for me.” Jack shot her a weak smile that she knew he didn't fully mean, though she said nothing about it. “Let's get a move on. Taven's been holding down the fort and he could use a relief.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Flitter shot him a sharp salute, before continuing to float after him through the castle halls toward their objective.

It was not long, before the pair reached the barracks where JSOG was billed. Royal Guards patrolled the area heavily, and through the painted glass, Militia ponies could be seen training in the various fields that had been opened to them. Inside, the usual chatter of the rangers was utterly absent as they all cleaned their weapons, checked gear, and underwent calisthenics. Eyes drifted up as the pair entered, and the soldiers all began to stand to salute. With the motion swiftly waved off by Flitter, they all gathered around for the debrief. Jack told them everything, right down to the grisly fate of the Imperial sailors. The mood shifted from trepidation, to disturbed and disgusted.

“Don't let any of this get to you. And don’t let the Empire's dumbass in charge throw any of you off. Their army is still massive and deadly. You give them an inch and they'll take a mile.” Jack made sure to make eye contact with each and every one of the soldiers under his command. “Our main focus will be denying them their main objectives; wherever they go, we’re gonna beat them there and take what they want. We're in this for the long haul, and it's only going to get worse when the Progeny start coming out enmass. At that point, we are going to have to trailblaze specific tactics for bringing them down fast and hard.” Jack sat with his shoulders hunched, and his hands laced between his knees. “By the way, damn good job on the train. They caught us completely off guard, and we still managed to pull ahead. I want you all to be proud of that. Anybody else, and it would have been even more of a bloodbath. Because of JSOG, we've found the crack in their entire foundation, with their mind control. From here on, if any of you spot anybody wearing one of those masks, eliminate with extreme fuckin’ prejudice. Do not damage the mask, unless you're in a sound tactical position. Those masks could mean VIPs, and entire battalions defecting to our side, and I don't think I need to explain why that would be really great for us right now.” Running a hand through his short cropped hair, Jack relaxed slightly and looked over the gathered soldiers. “How's everyone feeling?”

The question seemed to come as a surprise, as several ponies murmured lightly and nobody answered right away. Thankfully, Taven spoke up before anybody was singled out. “We're pissed off sir.” Jack's brows lifted mildly at the claim, though he couldn't blame the thestral in the slightest.

“What do you mean, Taven?” Flitter showed full interest in what he had to say, and it seemed to have an effect of the group.

Sighing, Taven fluttered his leathery wings and looked around idly. “I can't speak for everybody here, but I know I sure as hell am. We're fighting a war against a coward. A craven, disgusting tyrant of a griffon, who forces civilians to fight, and who's using magic we have no defense against! I mean, fuck… we're one of the most well trained and armed units in the whole world, and we were all turned into drooling drones, no offense Baron, by some jackanape with a magic ball mask. It's frustrating!”

A good number of pastel coloured heads nodded in agreement as Minerva eyed Jack cautiously. “You know… Captain, why weren't you mind controlled? You were right there with the rest of us, and you were the only one to keep your head on.” A quiet murmur spread through the small group that Flitter took an immediate dislike to.

“Before you all go making assumptions.” Flitter sat up, and put on her best 'stern XO’ face. “Both myself and Jack have undergone invasive tests to ensure we are free of Order's corruption, and we've both come out clean. The rest of you will likely go through it as well if you haven’t already, but I myself am very certain that you'll all come up just as clean.”

Holding up her hooves to placate her CO, Minerva nodded lightly. “I'm not insinuating anything here, I'm just… er… curious.”

“Its-” Flitter started to speak, before stopping as Jack placed a hand on her shoulder and patted.

“It's alright. I actually have a pretty good idea as to why, and how.” Tapping his heavily scarred forehead, Jack smirked. “But that ain’t important right now. What is, is what Taven was talking about.” Jack lifted his head and looked them all over. “I know this spooks you all. Hell, it spooks me too. Trust me, when I say I’m gonna be looking into this, hard. All I can ask, is that you all keep fighting as hard as you have been these past few weeks. We’ve hurt the Empire more than any other military unit in the world, and we’re gonna keep coming at him until we’ve beaten them to a bloody pulp. Failure is not an option here anymore. We cannot afford it, not with so many lives riding on the line. Understand?” The collected soldiers nodded in understanding. “Good. Now, Minerva, because I can see you still glaring at me; Order can't control me, because I have a plate of titanium in my forehead. Titanium, is heavily magic resistant, or so I'm told.”

“How the fuck did you end up with that in your head, and why?” Minerva blurted, before she could stop herself. Despite the embarrassment, the others did seem interested.

“It's a bit of a story. I'll tell you if you want, but it's not all that important. Any of you who aren't interested, I want reports. I need to know everyone who was injured in the operation, and I need to know who's in the infirmary. When those are done, go through your kits and write down what you're missing. I want everyone locked n’ loaded and ready to ship out at a moment's notice. That means no heavy exercises, we can't afford anyone to be laid up or running at anything less than peak. Oorah?”

Instead of the Oorah he had hoped to receive in return, Jack received some nods and a couple affirmatives, as a good number of the JSOG operatives set off to do their duties. Despite that, several still remained. Minerva stared at Jack with unblinking eyes. “We're listening. Sir.”

With a chuckle, Jack sat back and ran his hand through his hair again, though his thumb lingered on the ugly scar that crossed the entirety of his forehead. “I've got a plate in my head because I was an idiot teenager.” Flitter perked in surprise, and didn't move from her spot beside him. “I was out in the hills with my older brother, and we were ripping through some trails on dirtbikes-”

“The fuck is a dirtbike…?” Mythic muttered, before perking at the realization that he'd spoken out loud.

Jack paused for a moment, and attempted to think of a way to explain it to those around him. “A dirtbike is a… do you guys know what a bicycle is? No? Shit… uh… well, a bicycle is a metal frame with two wheels, that a person sits on, and pedals to move the wheels. A motorcycle, is that, but with an engine. A dirtbike, is that, but with a powerful engine, and big knobby tires meant for going off road. Still with me?” Jack grinned a little as the ponies and griffon tried to draw the mental image. “Alright, so, I was going too fast for my own good, trying to race my brother. Well, being the dumbshit I was when I was younger and thought I was invincible, I wasn't wearing a helmet. So when my bike went out from under me thanks to some wet wood, I had about a softball portion of my skull cracked wide open on a rock. I had to be airlifted out, and I spent about four months in traction as they put a steel plate in my head. Skip forward a couple of years and a lot of bad choices, I got shot in the head in Iraq, but thankfully, the plate in my head meant I didn't die. Course, the plate was fucked and I almost died from the internal hemorrhage, so the marine corp replaced the plate with a nice bit of titanium, which has now saved my ass twice. Once from being shot-” He tapped the ugly scar on his forehead.”- and from being mind controlled, because mind control magic is finicky and I'm apparently a walking 'go fuck yourself’ to magic. Boom, exposition.”

The group stayed silent for a moment, before Baron groaned. “That has got to be the most idiotic serendipity I've ever heard of. You have to be the luckiest, and unluckiest sack of asshole I've ever met in my entire life.”

Humming lightly at the statement, Jack nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that about sums it up. I'm only lucky enough to suffer a little more.” Cracking a mild grin, he stood and stretched. “Has anyone seen Private Marvich? The medic on the train?”

Nodding, Taven motioned toward the door. “Still on the train I'd reckon. He didn't seem like he wanted to leave his comrades behind.”

Chewing his cheek, Jack glanced down at Taven. “Think he'll join up.”

“I seriously doubt it, Jack. Besides, you shouldn't be running around picking up strays and stealing valuable assets from other arms of the military.”

“Bah.” Jack scoffed derisively. “If they're being wasted where they are, I'm not gonna be equally wasteful and not offer them a position. Just look at Simoh!” Jack gestured toward the griffon, who was busy cleaning his talons with his beak. The griffon froze as eyes turned to him, the moment his talon was in his mouth.

“Wuh?”

“Or don't.” Jack mused quietly. “Either way, I'm headed out. See that everybody gets squared away, and keep tabs on everyone. We're a volunteer force. I'm not gonna force anybody to fight monsters if their hearts aren't in it.”

“Tall order…” Taven said with a sigh, before nodding to Jack. “Alright. Good luck Jack.”

“Later, Taven.”

Jack swiftly set off toward the train station, where he hoped he could run into the private.

On the station, Private Marvich watched with morose silence as body bag after body bag was pulled off the train. He was one of ten survivors, not counting JSOG or the engine crew. He did not turn to look as ponies murmured and the sound of heavy boots approaching met his flattened ears.

“Private Marvich?” The human’s voice was familiar, though it didn't hold its helmeted echo.

The private glanced up at the tall man as the militia began finally offloading the heavy crates of armour and munitions. It took a long moment for Marvich to gather his words together and speak. “You need something. Captain.”

“A moment to talk, if you're feeling up to it.” Jack stood at the large earth pony’s side, and watched as the crates were loaded into multiple carriages, alongside the body bags.

“I do not have anywhere to go. Captain.” Marvich remained seated as his eyes slowly traveled the length or the ravaged train.

Taking a seat next to the pony, Jack pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “I'm glad you were with us. There would have been a lot more casualties if not for you.” Taking a drag off the butt of the smoke, Jack sighed and let out the smoke through his nose. “Doesn't make it feel any better though. I won't jerk you around or sugarcoat this. JSOG needs a medic. You fit the bill.”

“No.”

Jack rolled his jaw momentarily, before nodding. “Alright. The offer's still open. You're a good soldier, Marvich. Anything less wouldn't have made it out of that mess.”

Finally, the private turned to look Jack in the eye. “I'm a veterinarian.”

Standing as he nodded once, Jack set his hands on his belt. “Not anymore.” He offered his hand toward the pony, who regarded him with tired eyes. “Good luck out there.”

Finally taking the offered hand, Marvich shook it once, before looking back toward the train. “Goodbye, Captain.”

The two parted ways wordlessly, with Jack ambling back into the city, and toward the palace. As he walked and smoked, he considered his position and casually spun ideas in his head. As he neared the castle grounds, and passed by royal guard checkpoints, Jack suddenly felt the intent feeling of somebody watching him. Not slowing, Jack began to cautiously scan about, before nearly running over a familiar face. The Omega Hive operative skittered out of the way just in time, causing Jack to curse in surprise. Before he had a chance to speak, Agent Orange spoke first and cut him off.

“We need to talk, now.”

Author's Notes:

Welp, I have nothing to blame but myself for the delay on this chapter. Well, it, and STALKER: Call of Chernobyl. And a lot of other games. Regardless, it's out now, and I'm going to attempt to put down some scheduled writing time in my days.

So much time has passed since the last chapters; for some of you, you're reading through and the tone is changing slightly, characters are shifting, and personalities are starting to merge. For me, I've been picking away at this story for over two years. I went back to about chapter thirty, and I was actually surprised by what I was reading. I've actually forgotten some of the things I've written because it's been so long.

With that said, don't expect all of the tangents to get solved. I might actually have forgotten about some of them. The big ones won't be, hopefully. Ugh.

Anyways, here's a bit of free art my Roommate did for me, of the Progeny. Go give him some love. http://redstarart.tumblr.com/