Advent Ascendancy

[Guest]

It was a brilliant night, with the moon gazing down on the fertile lands of Earth, shining the landscape in its nightly splendor. Blanketing the area in a dimmed lighting much unlike morning's embrace. Yet there existed a foreboding land that almost lacks any sorts of life around. South of Central City existed a remote farm sandwiched by two mountains, and left unmarked on the maps. A lack of life save for a few supposed ones exist, as fogs are a constant.

There were many untended rows of vegetables, weathered by dryness, a lack of care, and the weeds that surround it. Pestilence takes place, with the carcass of cows tipped over, half-eaten by parasites and degraded by time alike. Rib cages were exposed as they lay at the fields. Yet that wasn't the most unusual features of this apparently abandoned farm. Rather it was Dustan, the brave fatty of a thousand Sundae delight, whom was called by an anonymous contractor that lurks from the shadows, to in fact blow up a farm house.

Lo for a farm house existed, the wood was dark and brittle, creaky with age. Standing tall in the middle of death and stinking rot which clouds this area with pungent stench. Hard to see from a distance away, the only hint that even shows a semblance of a hint towards it, is in fact a dirt road in differing texture from the surrounding soil. The house was silent, dead silent. Instructions were specific; to plant an explosive into basement's basement, something to unveil by a lever's pull.

[Dunstan Hue]

Dunstan was not a conspicuous man; a large form and a burnt face do little to hide a man. But he was a bomber by trade; he had to at least know how to enter a place, hide an item and leave, all unseen. He knew the principles of the sleuth, and this night, as beautiful as it was, piled on the terrible circumstances. The moon was bright, forcing its way through even the fog, and all plant life was dead, meaning that he could not choose to hide behind cover. So he had to improvise. The Princess ran along the dirt road. If he could not approach undetected, he would have to pretend to be a mere motorcyclist enjoying the night. He kept a low head, his trenchcoat wrapped around him. This was his first time to Amestris, a land of unfamiliarity, so he hoped that his complete anonymity in this land would be plenty enough to evade any authority.

Finally, he reached the farm house, a humble structure of rotting wood and black; it fit perfectly with the scene of decay that was this valley. Dunstan set the Princess against a tree, leaving the engine on. The choking of the bike, he hoped, would convince the residents that he was still driving, or had stopped to rest. He walked with a calm and silent pace to the building, his singular eye scanning it. The contractor said that he wanted the bomb planted in a hidden floor beneath the basement, so Dunstan assumed that this was a job for damages rather than outright annihilation. Thus, the bomb he made was suitable; a incendinary bomb the same dimensions of a shoebox. The ground would fall away, and the supporting walls from the houes would simply collapse from sheer force; and if that didn't do the trick, then the fire would. A small, controlled explosion, difficult to detect. When forensics come by they'd find out, but by then he'd be long gone.

The act of entering the house was easy; Dunstan first tested the door's condition, pressing against it. Wood, damp and rotting. Weak. He grabbed the hammer from his belt and very sharply slammed it onto the handle. The lock went with the metal, wood tearing from wood. His hand was gentler in pushing the door open as he walked in. Not a movement. Dunstan's nerves was on edge, and for the first time he started to question the validity of the request now that he saw the state of the house. Destroy the farmhouse with a bomb from underground? He could knock it apart piece by piece with the hammer if he had the patience. As he forced his way into the basement, he decided that whatever it was he was here for, it wasn't bombing.

The basement itself was nearly black, small and featureless, but for a lever that sat in the corner of the room. Dunstan stood right at the other end of the room; if this wasn't a bombing request, it was probably a trap, but he was too curious to turn back and run. So, instead, he stood back and readied his wrench in his hand. He looked to the lever, aimed and threw the wrench.

"Fuck!"

Dunstan walked forward, picking up the wrench, having completely missed, and walked back to his corner, before trying again."Argh! Fuck!" Pick up, throw. "Oh come on!" He growled, then he threw the wrnech a final time, finally hitting the lever, activating whatever device it was connected to.

[Guest]

A loud rumble shook the ground, with dust raining on the fat pancake man, Dunstan's head. A segment of a wall otherwise mundane and usual, revealed a sinister secret behind. A corridor of a long length is unveiled. Long and narrow, yet wide and high enough to accommodate the bomber's fat and height. Unusually it was a corridor of white steel, shimmering with white, lighting up brightly. A sharp contrast to the dark and grimy basement the bomber occupied.

From around the corners of the bomber's eyes were shadows, blurs as fast as they appear, disappear. The wind whistled in their presence, hissing against the small openings left in the decrepit wood long infested with termites. It was too dark to make their figures, and they were too fast to make of them at all. They apparently lingered no longer, as there was no traces of such creatures.

Yet ahead of the fat man was the jewel of his goals. A minor spectacle that spans as a dot from such a distance. Presented to be a corridor that descends downwards at a comfortable slope of straightness. Though the lights soon dimmed in the corridor, synchronizing with the fat man's presence, darkening till one can barely see their own figure. And only a vague outline is present. A circular object is at the end of the corridor, which resembled a button and an unseen sign thanks to darkness that explicitly says in bold letters, "DO NOT PUSH".

[Dunstan Hue]

The dust collected and spilled across the floor in a messy fashion, slowly falling to earth and on Dunstan's head. He barely had time to see the corridor emerge just to the right of him, casting a brilliant light into the room, though it slowly dimmed and turned to black. Dunstan looked down it. A gentle descent into nothingness that ended with a singular, large button. Dunstan frowned, his singular, beady eye unable to judge the distance. His foot moved forward slowly, tapping the metallic shine of the new flooring, and he pulled it away instantly. This was definitely a set-up, he thought, but somehow that was comforting. If whoever built this place wanted him dead, he'd have heard a shot by now. No, this was something else. It was just a matter of finding out what.

Dunstan's hands leapt to the pockets of his large trenchcoat, scanning them for a light and a rolled spliff. He found both, and he placed the paper into his mouth, lighting it. He inhaled the smoke and blew a smoke ring out of the corner of his mouth, and put his lighter back in his pocket. His eye narrowed and focused onto the button.

"Hello button. Time to be pushed." He said, beginning a sprint down the corridor. He kept his weight moving and he got to the end of the corridor in no time, his hand forcing its way onto the button with joy. He stood back with a smile, and turned his head. The light from his spliff alit the small portion of the corridor, and he saw a small that, in large warning letters, said "DO NOT PUSH!" He grinned. Now he was going against authority, against the rules. "Take that, sign!" He thought to himself.

[Guest]

Escape was wiped out in the instant the curious fat cake pressed the button that explicitly warned against not pushing. The room lit up as well as his surrounding to a healthy amount of light, which suddenly caused several hisses to wave past the intrepid bomber. It was all behind him. The vents were broken into very quickly, as the shadows faded away without a moment's notice or even a warning, save for their displeasure. A blur as always. Thumps were heard all over the vents. Not one, not two, but several clutter. Lingering away and away and very quickly too.

The corridor itself shifted its lanes, rotating as the room does, to a different segment. Locking itself to lead to a laboratory environment. Complete with broken pods of glass, and spilled fluids. There is faded blood all over the lab, and rotten pieces of meat littering the place. Eyeballs, brain, a nostril, if not a woman's intimates connected to a decayed sickly flesh of grey -- the waist. Not a single segment of the body was complete, and they all appear to be old. Biohazard symbols were all over the place, in large icons, and several warnings written in Amestrian.

Achtung! Schutzanzüge erforderlich. These lines were accompanied by a gasmask symbol on top of it.

There is no life found in this room. Only the remnants of the dead. A sanctum that lead deeper and deeper, and unlike the previous room, this actually led further. Several doors were present, in a corridor with several rooms laid neatly behind doors next to each other, on both sides of the walls. There was even a T intersection at the end.

The following rooms are labeled as, Inkubationszeit, Bakterienkultur/Zellkultur, Abstellraum, Waffenkammer, and finally, Sperrgebiet. Otherwise, the T intersection houses a mystery yet to be explored. And each of those rooms have their twist knobs broken in one way or another, forcibly unlocked and closed with nothing within to interfere in opening them recently. As if forcibly entered into. There is dried and faded blood leading into each of these rooms.

[Dunstan Hue]

Dunstan gulped as the corridor began to shudder. The breaking of ventilation shafts as shadows passed through them, and Dunstan immediately looked to his feet, hoping he hadn't trodden on one of... whatever those things were. The rambling and the rattling, the constant thump thump of movement with in the confined metal corridors rattled around Dunstan. "Maybe I shouldn't have pressed that button." He murmured. He turned back, seeing a whole new room. It was well lit and full of death, a woman's dead, naked body, the pieces scattered everywhere. Dunstan's stomach withheld the temptation to vomit. He was a bomber; he had seen an exploded pile of bodies before, and at least this singular corpse didn't carry the guilt of himself being the killer.

His progress was by no means jovial. He was increasingly unnerved, but he just didn't get this place. The body's skin was grey and the blood was faded; this woman had been dead long before he got here, at least a week and at most months. But the lights were on and the handles were burst off the doors, probably recently judging by the fact that the doors were still closed and hadn't swung open by themselves. Dunstan walked into the greyness of what he guessed was a laboratory. His first act was considered; he grabbed all the shards that could fit in his hand and put them in his pockets, save for one which he held. Weapons. He walked silently but with confidence. The bright meant only that no one could attack him without revealing themselves, or possibly itself. Five rooms, not including whatever the T intersection led to, were dotted around the room. Dunstan looked to the bomb he had originally brought here. The incendinary bomb was probably not going to destroy this place, but he started to get the idea that this was what his contractor wanted detonating. Though he knew that he'd need an escape route first. So, carry the bomb in one hand, a glass shard the size of a knife in the other, and the spliff in a corner of his mouth, he backed to the door labeled "Inkubationszeit" and pushed it with his foot, spinning with the door so he faced neither way; he could see into both rooms easily.

[Guest]

The room was very pungent in smell. It was so horrid, that the stench stuck to whatever garments it attached to. Maggots gathered around several undeveloped fetuses within incubating pods for developing infants Those deformed infants were in fact half eaten, a sharp wavy pattern was vaguely present, and the rest of the necrotic flesh thrived a prosperous insect community. Devouring each of those dozen in an abominable feast, with eggs clearly laid on the empty eye sockets of the fetuses.

Walls spoke of a great struggle in this room, distinct by dents, blood splatters which are also faded on said dents, and several miniature dents all around the room, with flattened circles of miniature steel cluttered around said miniature dents. Yet questionably, there were no corpses that are larger than an infant's. Only evidence of a battle, that the other side of the door from which Hue opened up bore three long slits. The incubation pods on wheels were overturned and more glass was shattered, with sticky green liquid hanging on each of those shards.

When the door creaked, loudly when opened. It beckoned a moan in turn, echoing throughout the hallway from the T intersection, followed by several clutters from the vents, all going towards the sound source. Suddenly, there were loud bashes. A growl followed by a loud unnerving shriek sounded. It was guttural and very much inhuman. The lights flickered all over the place, and suddenly it went out. Everything is pitch black. Covered in darkness. Air seemed to whistle high at the door way at this moment.

[Dunstan Hue]

It didn't take long for Dunstan to decide that he wasn't a fan of that room. Insects reigned supreme in a land of dead, devoured and deformed infants, all in tubes. Oddly enough, though the infants had clearly been attacked and the room gave a clear indication of destruction, the tubes were intact, leading Dunstan to believe that they had been put in the tubes in the state. He looked to the maggots and grinned nervously.

"Yeah... I'll just leave you to it." He murmured, moving back into the room he had started in, closing the door behind him, and sighed. He breathed in heavily, then looked to the spliff that he smoked, taking it away from his lips and holding it in his hands. "If this is a trip, I'm fucking quitting." Suddenly, clatters and clangs resonated through, approaching fast, before a singular, inhuman growl unlike anything on this earth or hell itself, and the entire world turned into a pitch black monochrome, besides the light from the cannabis gently burning away. Dunstan bit his lip. He was the only thing anything could see, and he had heard things approaching. Marvellous. He didn't budge an inch, though he held the door that was behind him, making sure it was shut; if whatever was coming was on the other side, it would not get through. He extended his spliff out like a weak torch, the glass shard ready to stab.

Whatever the fuck you are, stay back! Dunstan shouted. "I've got a fucking bomb!

[Guest]

"Why would you be fucking ze bomb now, you piece of merde!" A man of Rouenian accent sounded off from the end of the hallway in an echo, well placed right after a few shots of a high caliber pistol that banged loudly. An explosion followed, shaking the place, that given circumstances, lit the whole place up. It was foggy this time with green gases, and it would seem that that the dents were gone, and corpses were gone, and so were the entirety of the setting. Rather it was a cleaner environment. The growls slowly tuned into gunshots, and clatters at the vents were the machine gun firing at a distance.

An alarm seemed to become apparent, and the primal vision of fear, the worst to happen, had become in tune with reality. The vents cleared up most of the hallucinatory agents pumped into the corridor in anticipation of the intruder that was in fact flooding into the segment. Whimpers were heard at a corner in the room, a hysterical man in a lab coat with bloodshot eyes shivering and whimpering from the battle that rages outside beyond the T-intersection.

"Nein! Nicht Dorothy! SO NICHT!" He shook madly, gargling out a foreign tongue in madness, perceiving things for what they don't appear. Tears streamed down his cheeks, he shook before lunging at Dunstan. Leaping at him with a ferocity as he shrieked filled with the instinct to survive. Launching his fists at his round belly with a punch that lacks his drive, given his frail build.

[Dunstan Hue]

"Why would you be fucking ze bomb now, you piece of merde!" Came a voice. Dunstan's gaze leapt from side to side, the beady eye nearly popping out of his skull. A human voice? Finally! "Thank frigging god. Got any idea what's with this..." He paused. A scent reached his nose. A smell he hadn't smelt in a long time, but he knew it was a gas, military grade, designed specifically for the purpose of... of... "Oh god, not that memory as well!" He moaned angrily. His brain turned to reasoning; if it was a narcotic, he'd be out for the count. If it was nerve gas he'd be dead. If it was tear gas, he'd be on the floor screaming. What other kinds of gas would one install into a place like this?

WHAM!

It was the banging of whatever creature was approaching... except it wasn't. It was, quite clearly, a gunshot. And another. A rampage of explosions and machine gun blasts and detonations and assault rifles. And the walls became clean and untouched, and the corpses were replaced with nothingness, and the floor had a green gas spiralling along the floor. Hallucinagens. Dunstan looked to his spliff, and grinned. "How could've I blamed you?" He whispered, putting it in his mouth and sucking on it joyfully.

A garbled, foreign shout, and Dunstan felt a weak punch tap against his belly. He looked to the man who attacked him. A man in a lab coat, eyes bloodshot and full of fear, frame weak. He probably thought Dunstan was some manner of beast. The bomber grabbed the man's fists, and threw him up, before delivering a sharp kick to his stomach. Dunstan sighed angrily to himself. The attacker was no use to him in this state. But his mind spun; if this man worked here, then why wouldn't he know about the hallucinagen. Was it from an outside source? Was it activated by accident? And who was firiing at who? Dunstan rushed to the source of the noise, but kept his back to the wall, peeking his head around the corner of the T intersection, hoping to see what kind of battle raged on.

[Guest]

The legs connected to the frail scientist's stomach. Stealing the air out of his lungs as he gasped from the pain. It was very real. A distorting image of a beast had hurt him hard. Saliva spat out with the air, leaving him thrown to the ground limp, shaking from the pain, sobbing wildly like the opposite of a hyena's laugh. A loud wail emitted from his mouth, as he lays there, in his spot with no reprieve of his loss of mind. Whimpering hard.

"Was habe ich getan ... das verdient?" The man on the ground punched hard by an inconsiderate Dunstan said.

The scenery that used to have a dead woman had reverted to in fact normalcy. There was none of that, an illusion caused by the primal fear of the mind. The smell wasn't pungent, yet the gasses were fading away. Clearing the hallway and making it look as good as new. Pristine and clear, despite contrary appearances. Clearing the way for the intrepid and good hearted bomber, that so clearly and obviously exhumes an aura of goodness, representing all that is best and altruistic in the underground complex... which is not to say a lot. Considering humanity was left behind.

The battle still lingered beyond Hue's area, as the gun fire echoed, followed by a few thuds. Silencing the firepower a full-auto can make. It was eerily quiet, as a maniacal laughter followed suit with more explosions that shook the foundation. As the corner was looked around, there were dead bodies, bleeding on the ground with fresh hot blood. Corpses slumped and are awfully heavily armed and armored in black gear. Their guns were half-loaded, and they didn't even have a chance to fight back against this other mysterious intruder. An explosion ahead of the hallway, or what was the aftermath of it was evident, as the steel was dented and charred in black, but oddly... it wasn't blown open.

"When I am done with zhis place, I am coming for you next, you singe puant! HAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAA!" The Rouench accented man taunted, still not around to behold. Perhaps an ally? And his threat of coming for Dustan was to in fact help him out?

[Dunstan Hue]

Dunstan didn't shy away from the remains of the battle; it had only ended recently, and it had ended very badly for one side only. All of the corpses wore the same black armour, the origin Dunstan attempted to place; were they a private security force, or the army, or a unique body? Did they attack? Were they defending? Dunstan did something he didn't quite want to do; he bent down and put a finger in a puddle of blood. It was warm; recently spilt. The guns, too, weren't loaded properly, leading Dunstan to deduce that they had no time to fight back; this battle was a one-sided fight against probably the only other infiltrator, at least if Dunstan was correct in thinking only the man with Rouenian accent and he were here, excluding whoever he was attacking, the booms and rumbles of bombs and guns making a continuous hum.

"When I am done with zhis place, I am coming for you next, you singe puant! HAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAA!" Dunstan's eye caught the explosion fallout as he heard this voice. He couldn't quite tell what direction or what distance, but he heard every word in the taunt, and he smirked. The doorway was the end of the corridor, and the steel hadn't been ripped off from the explosion, just charred and dented; this guy clearly didn't have a clue how most of the bombs he used actually worked. So he was behind Dunstan, and wanted out as well. There was no doubt now; he wanted to go that way for whatever reason, most likely escape. Dunstan gleefuly prepared his bomb, but stopped himself. Too powerful. He looked to the soldiers, hoping that they would have grenades. There! A small one lying dormant. He walked to the door, inspecting the sides of the panels; most of the structure was dented away from the explosion, but for that something has to go the other way. Finally, he saw his hole, the opening to the other side, and wedged the grenade in there, before pulling the pin. The eleven seconds counted down, and Dunstan ran around the corner, waiting for the blast.

POW

And there it was. Before Dunstan decided to leave, however, he took his beloved bomb and hid it underneath one of the soldier's body. The portly man looked to his mobile phone; the number to detonate the explosive was still at the ready, and all it would take was one push of a button and the entire facility would collapse. Now to flush out and confront this mysterious intruder, possibly save some hot scientist chicks on the way out and pick up his paycheck. He smirked, remembering the words of his fellow trespasser, and replied to them.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but first you gotta throw them, arsehole!" He laughed, his pace to the new opening slow as he faced one way and kept looking the other. "Come on and tell us what this place is, unless you want to pussy out!"

[Guest]

Dunstan's talks were met in silence, except that his talks and that sudden explosion attracted A LOT of men like bees to honey, like mosquito to blood. The same uniformed men that lay dead, had reinforcements all lining up in a volley, with shotguns in that narrow opening where the pork chop Dunstan presided past the threshold which marks a separation between the corridor, and a VAST complex too large to fathom. A mile long width and length, and height. Several capsules are all over the place mingling quite well with the missiles, albeit very dusty missiles and containers.

"Männer! Bereiten Sie sich darauf Feuer!" The female commander at the back barked out, the only one with an exposed face given a lack of headgear save a black cap, the eyes of hers were cybernetic, as the schlera was black with minuscule wiring, blue orbs glowed menacingly as she glared at the fat portly intruder, "Öffnen Sie Feuer an der Rouensch Eindringling!"

Those neatly lined dozen of soldiers were in front of the bomber on a cat walk, separating the pathway from falling into the vast assortment of explosives below which no doubt would make the entire facility cave in on itself, six kneeling down in front and those standing in front all started opening fire with their shotguns, unloading every single round at Dunstan's locations with the pump action military grade shotguns. All pointing at him, all spraying so many bullets and magnum pellets, that it tore holes through the steel wall from such ferocious firepower. Dust flew around the bomber's location, as they all were met with the clicks of empty guns.

"Halt! Nicht schießen! Ich denke, wir getötet, dass Schweine." The Amestrian commander ordered, peeling her eyes for the presence of Dunstan, only for her skin tone to pale. Her jaws would have dropped to the ground in complete and utter disbelief if it was possible, to see EVERY SINGLE SHOT from a shotgun MISSED a fatman coming out of a hole which barely fits his form, there were holes EVERYWHERE around Hue, below him, above him, left and right, and even some behind him, but not one had hit him, "W-WAS?!!?"

The rest of the men too were gasping inside their gasmasks, which sounded a lot like a wheeze of disbelief. One of the less shocked ones starting immediately going for his shotgun shells on his belt, hastily trying to pull them out, dropping a couple of them that rolled down into the chasm of rockets.

[Dunstan Hue]

Dunstan turned his head, a huge grin plastered on his face, until he saw what was on the other side of that door; a dozen of gun barrels cramming for space, all pointed to him. Behind them was a facility of vastness impossible to fathom; at least a mile long, possibly beyond even that, and around about the same height, with warheads and missiles housed within. Only one face could be seen amongst the gas mask wearing soliders; a woman with metallic eyes of the deepest blue and black in a commander's military cap. Dunstan stood perfectly still, his grin slowly breaking out of rigormortis and the curls of his lips straightening, turning to a depressed frown.

"Männer! Bereiten Sie sich darauf Feuer!" Came the woman's bark; an alien language, and Dunstan slowly rose his hands, assuming that it was merely her arresting him.

"Now, I know this kind of looks bad..." Dunstan started, looking to the floor coated in dead bodies scattered around him. "- however, I feel as if to put the blame on me would take this out of context somewhat, so how about we all calm down and..."

"Öffnen Sie Feuer an der Rouensch Eindringling!"

"OH SHIT!" Dunstan screamed as the world around him erupted into dust and lead as the shotguns released their ammunition, round after round being fired to him. Yet not a single shell hit him. For the dozen attackers, not a single piece of shrapnel even stroked him. Dunstan couldn't believe his luck, but he knew it wouldn't last unless he balanced the odds. His hand leapt to the bomb he hid under the body and grabbed it, before crouching and waiting for the clicks of empty guns. Finally, they came.

"Halt! Nicht schießen! Ich denke, wir getötet, dass Schweine," came the woman's voice. Dunstan stood to full height as the dust began to clear, however. "W-WAS?!!?" At this shocked proclaimation, Dunstan flung the bomb over, then held the mobile phone for all to see.

"Drop your guns, or I blow this place up!" He shouted confidently. "An incendinary bomb in a room full of missiles? Not a good combination, now is it? Now, back away nice and slow, and tell me how I can get out."

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