Chapter One

“What makes you think that Discord won't attack again?”

“I can assure you, Mr. Secretary, that Discord is gone.”

“Hmph, General, you mentioned in you brief that Discord is a trickster.”

“A practical joker is more like it, though his humor is somewhat dark.”

“Then how do we know that Discord isn't playing us all for fools?”

“He doesn't like to do the same trick twice, and believe me, Mr. Secretary, he has already played us for the fool for quite a while.”

---

“Bandits on your tail!”

“I can't shake him!”

“Radar lock! Fox two!”

“Good hit!”

“This is Idaho three, we've been immobilized! Contacts to the west!”

“This is Idaho four! Idaho five has found a weak spot in the north! We're making a push!”

“Derby Base, this is Whiskey one! We have injured, both ours and civilian! Where is our air support?!”

“INCOMING! BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!”

Rear Admiral Bogart, USN, looked out the window just in time to see some sort of spiked ball fly into the water just off the starboard side of the USS Fitzgerald shortly before the ship buckled and smoke poured forth from her funnels. “Damage report on the Fitzgerald!” He yelled.

“Major flooding in her engine compartments, both screws are gone. No casualties as of yet.” Came the reply.

“Tell the McCain to lay alongside and provide support!” Bogart ordered.

“Sir, McCampbell and Barry both report that they're Phalanx guns are depleted and the AEGIS systems are failing!”

“Contact port! It's gonna hit!” A lookout yelled.

“All hands! Brace!” Captain Clifton yelled into the carrier's announcement system. Another spiked ball hurtled out of nowhere and slammed into the flight deck, scoring a deep grove right through the ship's catapults and clipping the wing of an F-18 before crunching into the the big “76” on the side of the island.

The shock threw everyone on the ship to one side. Basic training kept the men and women at their stations and they kept working.

“Damage report!” Clifton called.

“Main cats are down! Ship systems are being reset! Reactors are stable!”

Bogart, somehow still standing, continued to stare at the large dome of energy off the starboard bow.

“Where are the ground forces?” He asked.

“Uh, the Washington National Guard has moved up several armored columns through Bellevue, but the bridges are heavily defended and even if they weren't, that shield is still presenting a big problem.” Came the nervous reply.

Clifton cursed. “They're tearing us apart in this channel. With the forward catapults down, we've lost our ability of simultaneous recovery and launching.”

As if on cue, an F-18 shot past on the secondary catapults located on the angled deck. It soared out and almost immediately began firing the 20mm minigun at some flying creature.

Bogart walked back to the screen showing the fleet in real time using footage from a drone perched high above. “Have Antietam begin to focus on taking out ground targets and clear a path for those tanks. Launch all remaining strike planes and order those that are out of fuel or ammunition to resupply at the nearest airbase. Any ship that is in danger of sinking is to run aground in a position that allows for fire on that energy field.”

“That will make them sitting ducks.” Clifton said.

“It's better than on the bottom of the harbor.” Bogart retorted. “I want Stethem and McCain to move to the south side of the dome and fire their five inch cannons into the dome.”

“McCain is still assisting the Fitzgerald, Sir! Stethem reports that they can move to the south side, but they may have to run aground due to flooding!”

“Very well, have Chancellorville move south instead of McCain.”

“INCOMING PORT SIDE!” Came a yell.

More than twenty randomized projectiles shot out of the dome and streaked towards the carrier. Several were shot down by missiles, even more by the high explosive rounds that sprayed from the gatling guns on the ships. However, two hit. One, a giant flowerpot of all things, crashed into the port side elevator, jamming it and leaving it hanging at a crazy angle. The other, an over sized bowling ball, crunched into the secondary catapults, causing them to vent super heated steam.

Clifton stared out through the bridge windows at the mess before turning around and yelling. “Damage control to the flight deck! All back full!” He moved to look at the overhead view.

Bogart continued staring at the dome. “Captain!” He barked. Clifton looked up from the computer screen. “Sir?”

“Make your course one-two-zero and increase speed to flank.” The admiral said grimly.

Clifton stared at the admiral for a moment, then carried out his orders. More than a dozen randomized projectiles ranging from the spiked balls to a giant Jay Leno's head shot out of the dome and streaked towards the American ships. The first line of defense were the RAM missiles that streaked out and slammed into several of the flying oddities. Then the Phalanx guns sprayed high explosive bullets into the air, destroying several more and knocking the rest off course.

Bogart picked up the ship's broadcast phone and spoke into it. “Attention crew! As of now, our main weapons have been crippled and the ship is heavily damaged. However, we still have over five thousand men and all four shafts. Grab the nearest weapon that you can and prepare to go ashore!”

The carrier began to accelerate as the two nuclear reactors deep inside the ship built up super heated steam and spun the four massive propellers. The deck rumbled and shook and a massive plume of water sprayed up from the stern. Slowly but surely, the pride of the U.S. Navy built up speed and turned towards the strange, glowing dome.

Clifton walked up to Bogart. “Sir, if we're going to do this, we might as well go out with appropriate music.”

“Play it good and loud Captain. I want them to know we're coming.” Bogart said.

Clifton steadied himself and once he was sure that the ship was moving in the correct direction, he too picked up the ship's broadcast phone. “This is the captain. I don't know what is on the other side of that wall, or whether we will even be able to break through. However, should we make by some miracle, that's still Seattle in there and there might be civilians that are still alive. Your main job is to protect them. Get them to safety. And no matter what happens, just remember that you are sailors of the United States Navy, and I am honored to have serve with each and every one of you.”

“Dome in five thousand yards Sir!” Radar reported.

Clifton continued speaking. “Engineering, damage control and weapons will remain at their stations, everyone else is free to go over the side or stay on the ship, it's your choice.”

“Four thousand yards!” The operator sounded frantic.

The captain found what he was looking for on his music player and plugged it into his personal computer. Static filled the speakers, then the sound of AC/DC's “Shoot to Thrill” began to play.

Clifton pick up the phone again. “Let's show those monsters the real meaning of crazy!”

“Two thousand yards!” Came the report.

“Sound collision!” Clifton ordered and the alarm began to scream.

“One thousand yards!”

“ALL HANDS! BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!” Clifton yelled into the phone.

The carrier hit the shield in excess of forty knots, sending a massive shock wave throughout the ship that threw everyone on board to the deck. The shield cracked and stretched before breaking open and the carrier shot past at thirty knots.

Like a bubble that refused to burst, the shield wobbled for a moment, then proceeded to crack across its entire surface before dissolving into a multitude of smaller bubbles that slowly got smaller. Now the sailors on the ships and soldiers of the National Guard could clearly see what the dome had been hiding. The city that stood before them was nearly unrecognizable from what was once Seattle. The buildings now had a lopsided look to them, leaning at impossible angles or flipped over in some cases. Additionally, all of them had some florescent looking color that turned different hues when looking at it from different angles. The roads turned every direction and looked more like roller coaster tracks, complete with loops and massive hills.

In the center of the city, a massive castle looking as strange as the city stood defiantly. Standing on the shoreline was an army of walking cars, lampposts and other pieces of the city that had come to life. In the sky flew winged creatures that resembled dragons, only more impossible.

“All back full! Left full rudder!” Clifton yelled. The ship responded and leaned to starboard as it strained to slow down and turn at the same time. Though the ship was stopping, it was still going too fast and crunched into the sidewalk that ran alongside the shoreline. The bow furloughed through the ground a good twenty feet before the ship finally stopped.

For one, small moment, all that could be heard was the music playing from the carrier's speakers, then the fifty caliber machine guns on the ship opened fire on the creatures on the shore. The flight deck suddenly swarmed with sailors surging up from below and a wild roar filled their lungs. Someone let down nets over the bow that stretched to the ground and men and women began to hastily clamber down while others stood on the deck and provided covering fire. Over three thousand sailors from the carrier hit the ground and began to fan out from the carrier, some armed with heavy weaponry like rocket and grenade launchers while others left the ship with nothing else than their service pistol or something heavy they could swing.

F-18s swept through the sky that the carrier had cleared and promptly went to work on the the air targets while several helicopters calmly cruised in and began to rake enemies with miniguns mounted on the sides. Another yell went up from the sailors as they began to push the strange creatures back towards the castle.

On the other side of what was once the shielded wall, the Washington National Guard surged across the remaining bridge, armored units blowing massive holes into the parts of the city that had risen up to meet them

For Seaman Duframe, the day had started off like just another day. Get up, eat breakfast, perform a FOD walk down and then work on a helicopter engine. Now he was in what was supposed to be Seattle, running up a street chasing a light pole that kept trying to take a swing at him and wondering if the world was going to end.

An M16 chattered and the pole crumpled. Petty officer O'Hara and Lieutenant Pursel ran up behind him. O'Hara held the smoking rifle.

“What, trying to take all the fun for yourself?” Duframe asked of O'Hara.

“Hooowee! Now this is why I joined the Navy!” O'Hara exclaimed.

Duframe highly doubted that O'Hara joined the Navy in order to run around shooting inanimate objects that had suddenly come to life, but he just laughed at his statement. He took a moment to analyze his new squad mates. O'Hara was from engineering, a nuclear specialist of all things, while Pursel was a corpsman from medical.

Civilians began to emerge from the surrounding buildings, and upon seeing the men dressed in uniforms they began to swarm the sailors with request for help. Duframe and the two others tried to calm the people and point them to the carrier.

However, any further discussion was interrupted when more civilians ran around a corner. “Help! They're after us!” One man yelled.

“Get to the carrier! She's two miles down!” Pursel yelled at them.

O'Hara leveled his gun at the corner as a strange clanking sound could be heard. The civilians ran past while Duframe pointed at the direction of the carrier before taking out his service pistol.

A car that now roughly resembled a giraffe roared around the corner that the civilians had just come from and charged them. Bullets sparked across the metal frame, but failed to take effect. Pursel dove for cover first and pulled out a hand held radio. Duframe ran into the cover of a nearby doorway, but O'Hara continued to empty the M16 into the mechanical beast until the last moment and dove out of the way as a wheeled leg smashed where he had been standing just before. The metal giraffe-car hybrid careened past and stumbled into a corner diner that was missing the statue of the waitress, probably having walked off earlier.

Suddenly, a scream was heard from within the diner. O'Hara reacted with the speed of an experienced veteran, loading a new magazine and shouting orders. “Lieutenant! Get us heavy weapons! Duframe! Check that building while I cover you!”

The M16 barked and the beast charged O'Hara again. Duframe wasted no time in making a mad sprint to the diner. Right before the last step he took a leap at the door to break it in. Unfortunately, his body weight was not enough and Duframe bounced off like a rag doll.

“Ow.” He grimaced. “Oooooh, ow.”

He noticed a broken window and climbed inside. There were five people, two couples and a man in a business suit, huddled in the far corner, but upon his entrance they ran forward and practically fell on him.

“Thank the Lord you're here!” One woman sobbed.

“Are they gone?” Asked the business man. His answer was the rapid fire of an M16 and O'Hara yelling out; “Come get some, you. . . Thing!”

Duframe herded them back and explained. “We're pushing them back, but we need you to head to the docks. There's a carrier there.”

“What about those things?” The man asked.

“Like I said, we're pushing them back. Now is there anyone else here?”

A Seahawk helicopter thrummed overhead, the minigun on the side opened up and proceeded to shred the metal giraffe before the helicopter banked away. O'Hara could be heard yelling thanks to the helicopter and curses at the strange creature.

“There was another couple in the lobby next door. We agreed it was best to stay put for the time being.” One of the women said.

Duframe thanked them and told them how to get back to the carrier from where they were at. “O'Hara!” He yelled out. “Got five civilians coming out!”

“You're clear!” Came a hoarse reply.

As soon as the civilians crept out and were on their way to the carrier, Duframe moved to check the hotel while O'Hara scouted ahead and Pursel watched the streets. It was a shattered building with the same crazy appearance as the rest, only more pockmarked. Pistol drawn, he carefully entered.

“Anyone in here?” He called. “U.S. Navy, we've come to help.” He was about to give up when a small voice called. “Over here.”

Duframe eased his tense stance and casually walked to the doorway that he heard the voice call. “Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here and- WHAT THE?!” Duframe jumped back and pointed his pistol at the form in front of him. It appeared to be a snow white wolf standing about three feet tall on its hind legs, wearing a vest and tie outfit and staring at him with cartoonishly large eyes.

“Please don't shoot!” It, or rather he, wailed. “I'm just an accountant! Those things turned me and my lady into this.”

Duframe's eyes were probably as large as the little wolf's when he regained his composure. “You-You-”

“Please help me! My lady is hurt!” The wolf pleaded.

Duframe cautiously followed the wolf and saw another small wolf in a yellow dress lying on the ground with a head wound. Basic medical training kicked in and he examined her head.

“Just a scratch. Can you follow my finger?” Duframe moved his hand in front of the wolf's eyes and she watched his motions. “She's alright.” He announced.

Duframe gently picked her up and began to carry her outside. “Heh, it's funny, I've never heard someone call their girl 'my lady.' You from around here?”

“No.” Came the reply. “We're here for the convention. I suppose we picked a poor time to visit Seattle.”

“As far as I'm concerned, any time is a poor time to visit Seattle.” Duframe replied.

Duframe exited the hotel and called out for Pursel. For a moment, they're was nothing. Then the growl of an engine rumbled closer. Duframe hid and watched for the machine in case it was another piece of equipment that had come to life.

A Bradley IFV crunched into view, Pursel, O'Hara and several other sailors riding on top. “Duframe! Where are you?” Pursel called.

Duframe stood, still holding the little wolf. “Over here! Got some civilians!”

The Bradley stopped one track and turned towards him, the turret turning around to point back the way it came. O'Hara saw the two wolves with Duframe and gave a yell. “Duframe! What are you holding?”

“Two civilians, one of those big monsters showed up and did this to them.” He yelled back. Pursel jumped down and looked at the female wolf's wound. “I need to call this in, or else we may end up shooting civilians. Duframe, mount up. The attack on the castle has already begun. I'll take these two back to the ship.”

“Yes Sir.” Duframe gave Pursel the wolf and jumped up onto the Bradley. It turned around and rolled down the street. Duframe looked back and watched Pursel walk back with his two patients.

Admiral Bogart watched the battle from the bridge of the carrier. In addition to the carrier, the USS Shiloh had beached herself and most of her crew had joined the shore fight with the exception of key personnel and weapon operators.

“Sir. I find it hard to believe, but we're pushing them back. Almost all enemy forces have been routed and are now centered around that castle.” Clifton reported.

“And our forces?” Bogart asked.

“The National Guard has met with our guys and they're currently assaulting the castle.” Came the reply.

“Contact Shiloh. Tell them to hit that castle with every missile that they have left.” He ordered. Bogart then looked down at the ruined flight deck. A Seahawk was landing to pick up ammunition.

“Hold that chopper! I'm going ashore!” He said suddenly.

“Are you sure that that's a good idea Sir?” Clifton protested.

“Using a five billion dollar warship as a battering ram was not a good idea Captain, but I did it anyways.” With that, Bogart turned walked away. “Keep those helos coming Clifton, we can still lose this battle.” He yelled over his shoulder.

Clifton watched him go, then turned to the radio operator. “Hold that chopper! Vector the next one to the Shiloh. New orders to all helos; they are to make missile and strafing runs on that castle and return for resupply.” He then pick up the ship intercom. “Engineering, pick every third man and have them report to the flight deck to assist the helicopters.”

Bogart emerged onto the flight deck just in time to see a massive barrage of missiles leave the Shiloh and streak away. By the time he reached the helicopter, he heard the satisfying explosions that signaled the end of the missiles' journey.

The Seahawk rose off the deck with a shudder and then dipped forward. “Good afternoon Admiral, it's a pleasure to have you aboard.” The pilot spoke into the headset. “We will be cruising at about five hundred feet A-G-L and you can expect to see fireworks later on in the flight. Refreshments will be served once we have hit cruising speed, bullets and targets are free to be expended at anytime.”

Flying lower than some of the buildings, the helicopter dodged in between several towers that rose up in odd positions. Suddenly, a giant mouth appeared in one of the buildings and tried to bite the helicopter. Only the pilot's quick reflexes prevented a disaster, diving down below the gaping jaws and away from the monstrosity. However, the entire building came to life and turned to follow them with an unnatural speed.

“All units! This is the admiral! Converge on the center of the city! Need heavy support for enemy building!” Bogart transmitted.

“Sir, we have the castle surrounded already.” Someone said on the radio.

“I need support for the building that is chasing me!” Bogart yelled back.

Clifton's voice came on the radio. “Roger that Sir, target locked, missiles out in five.”

The Chancellorville's deck was bathed in smoke as Tomahawks shot upwards before arcing over the city. They circled momentarily before centering over the moving building and then streaked downwards, crunching through the top few floors of the building before detonating in a massive explosion. The building took a few steps before breaking in half and falling to the ground.

“Sir!” The pilot's voice came through the headset. “Ground forces have broken through the castle defenses and are entering the inner buildings as we speak!” Bogart looked over and sure enough, an Abrams was driving through the giant doors of the castle and vanished inside.

“Get us closer!” He ordered. “You still have missiles?”

The pilot looked at him and grinned.

Duframe, O'Hara and some other sailors rode the Bradley inside the walls before jumping down onto the odd floor. “Right!” O'Hara yelled. “Time for some payback!”

Just as he said that, the wall in front of the Bradley crashed down and a giant snake with a lion's head rushed out at the men. The Bradley, however, rolled forward and cut the snake off, the 25mm gun rapidly putting lead into its ugly face. The Duframe was knocked to the ground by some flying debris, and a National Guardsman and O'Hara helped him up and pulled him to a spirally stairway.

Somehow, this stairway was in the middle of the room instead of a small alcove type, but Duframe and the others had seen enough weird stuff that day that an impossible stairway didn't even phase them.

“Come on!” The Guardsman yelled and ran up the stairs. Duframe and O'Hara followed. Before he took the last step into the ceiling, Duframe surveyed the room below. The snake had tried to wrap itself around the Bradley, but was learning the concept of roadkill from Bradley's tracks. Several other Guardsmen and sailors had surrounded the the beast and poured  bullets into it. Satisfied that the snake was going to die, Duframe climbed up the last step and followed after O'Hara and the Guardsman.

The stairway wound up for sometime, but finally exited into a large room that held the same crazy design the had overtaken the city. O'Hara and Duframe flanked the Guardsman as they advanced down the room, but nothing challenged them. Or so Duframe thought.

“Well, well, well.” A voice as smooth as silk echoed around them. “I had not anticipated such a quick response.”

“Show yourself!” O'Hara yelled. The three men grouped up back to back and looked around warily.

“Listen, we don't want any trouble!” The Guardsman yelled. “Just call off your army, and we can negotiate!”

The voice chuckled, then two yellow eyes and a smile, normal except for the single, saber like tooth that jutted downwards, appeared in front of Duframe. He screamed and fired his pistol. O'Hara and the Guardsman whirled around and both fired a shot. The bullets hung in mid air, just short of the face that materialized from nothing. A creature that Duframe could only describe as a composite of ugly reared up above them. The body was a snake, the right leg was that of a dragon while the left was from a horse, the right arm was a lion's and the left arm formed an eagle claw. One wing was a bat wing and the other was a parrot wing. Duframe didn't even know what to make of the head, or the antler and horn on top of it.

All three men tried to fire again, but they suddenly found that gravity was no longer in effect. The creature began to laugh, and then focused his eyes on Duframe. “Shall we begin?”

Bogart had found a Stinger underneath his bench and quickly went to work blasting away. The Seahawk went in for another missile run and parts of the castle exploded. The admiral suddenly saw something and he told the pilot to launch the remaining missiles at a certain section.

Duframe tried to level his pistol at the creature, but every time he did, an unknown force flipped him around. The creature seemed amused. “You humans are always so surprising. Tell me, how many times have you been suspended by a spirit of chaos? In the middle of a warzone?”

“Screw you!” Duframe yelled.

“Hm, exactly what I thought. Yet here you are, having done nothing extraordinary in your life, and you somehow have the guts to tell me off. Commendable, but not very smart.”

The creature waved its claw and Duframe felt a chill come over him. His arms began to itch, and his chest became stiff, making it hard to breathe. Black fur began to sprout all across his body, and Duframe felt his bones begin to compress. He screamed, but his voice began to choke out, and his vision became blurry. When it cleared, instead of a pair of human hands, two cat paws stretched out in front of him.

The creature had turned Duframe into a pure black cat wearing a flight suit. Ordinarily, Duframe would have tried to fight, or run, or do something. However, he had a major problem; he was deathly allergic to cats. In minutes his throat would begin to close up and he would choke to death.

Fortunately for Duframe, it was at that moment that two missiles blew a massive hole in the wall behind the creature. A Seahawk helicopter hovered outside, its minigun beginning to spin up. At the same time, soldiers and sailors broke through a set of doors at the far end of the room and charged forward yelling wildly. Duframe saw the creature grin, then its body faded away like the Cheshire cat, only that crazed smile remaining. The smile hung there as the men gathered around it, staring in wonder, then it rolled up and floated to the floor.

Duframe felt a relaxation on his throat, and slowly but surely began to grow back to his normal size. Two Guardsmen helped him to his feet, the last of the black fur finally disappearing. He suddenly began to hack and cough and spat out a clump of black hair.

“Duframe!” O'Hara shouldered his way through the men. “Oh man, I thought you were a goner.”

“Hey look!” A sailor pointed outside. It wasn't just Duframe who was turning back to normal, the city outside began to change as well. The roads began to fall back into place, the buildings returned to their original shape, and the monstrosities that roamed the streets fell where they stood. Only the castle remained.

The room was swept by heavy wind as the Seahawk that had been loitering outside carefully maneuvered into the room and gently set down on the uneven floor. Bogart stepped out and looked around. “What happened?” He asked.

A sergeant in a National Guard uniform stepped forward. “We had just breached when we saw that, thing, messing around with one of your boys. He's over there.” The sergeant pointed at Duframe, and Duframe suddenly felt the Admiral's eyes on him.

“Well, we breached.” The sergeant continued. “Then whatever was here just up and vanished. It left this behind though.”

The sergeant handed Bogart the piece of rolled paper. He looked at it and snarled. “Yeah, next time!” The admiral suddenly looked up and began to issue orders. “All sailors are to report to their ships and begin repairs immediately! All National Guard are to spread throughout the city and begin humanitarian operations! I want all units, Navy, National Guard, all units to begin setting up defenses!”

There was a chorus of “Aye aye Sir!” and “Yes Sir!” that echoed throughout the room and men began to file out. Bogart returned to the waiting helicopter and put on his headset.

“Where to, Sir?” The pilot asked.

“Take me home son.” Bogart said. “Get me back to the Reagan.”

Bogart looked at the paper in his hands. It was a simple square of white paper with clear and simple handwriting. The message was even clearer and yet as mysterious as the creature who wrote it:

Until next time!

-Discord, the Spirit of Chaos

To anyone else, the message may have seemed like a threat or challenge, but Bogart knew what the message really meant. After all, he wrote it. Beneath the dark sunglasses came a yellow glow, and his smile, for a moment, betrayed a set of perfect teeth with a single, saber like tooth.