Wilson stood on a small hill and looked down at the vast plain field below. He watched as a man who by all rights could be described as beautiful, stood on the plain field and looked around, covered in blood. Everywhere, there were people with weapons fighting till they dropped dead or killed their opponents. It was chaotic. The fighters were grouped into two; on one hand, there were those wearing black armor with stripes of silver and red that glistened under the setting sun. They wore silver helmets that exposed only their eyes. On the other hand, there were those in feathery white armor which by this time had turned red from all the blood, some of which was theirs. This armor was a lot more durable than one would think. They also had on, white helmets with colorful feathers sticking out at awkward angles and in a fashion that would intrigue any one who set their eyes on it.The white armored fighters were a lot fewer and were dying in their tens, further reducing their already path

Wilson slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He was confused as to where he was for a short period of time before he finally realized he was at the base’s hospital. He looked around him and sat up. He slowly began to remember his dream. Why the hell was that commander, named Wilson? Are his dreams simply messing with him? What is with all these dreams, really? He let himself be engrossed in the memories of his dream in a bid to discern whatever was to be discerned in a dream like that. (He was actually just looking for a clue that might tell him something about why he was having dreams like these).If he remembered correctly, the commander Wilson won. The worn out chief and his five men just did no stand the slightest chance. They were just too tired to fight forever. Tock was cut in pieces by enraged soldiers. Rock died after he got stabbed because his hands could no longer hold his sword and shield due to overexerting his muscles. Shock had taken a massive blow to the back of th

Wilson ran straight for the teenage toddler and kicked at him. As soon as Wilson’s foot touched the toddler, he immediately disintegrated, leaving Wilson temporarily confused. The lady that stood beside the ‘toddler’ blinked beside Wilson by his right, spun on her heel and smacked Wilson in the face. Wilson staggered forward a few steps from the force before regaining balance but as soon as he did, he felt a significant weight smash into his back and sent him crashing on the not-so-hard, not-so-soft floor of the training room. That was the toddler. He had integrated behind Wilson and flung his surprisingly massive weight at Wilson from behind, sending him crashing on the floor. Wilson felt a dangerous moving force that made his hair stand on end. He immediately rolled thrice and jumped on his feet. At the same time, he saw the big bald guy with the boyish look land at his previous position. Apparently, ‘boyish’ had leapt into the air and landed with the aim of sending him straight to

Wilson stopped as the male twin stood directly before him. The male twin was actively transforming in body shape. He slowly increased in size, becoming bulkier and more jacked. He stopped growing when he reached seven feet and six inches in height. The old man had completely transformed from an old man who was barely six feet in height and had white, receding hair to a hunk who was fitter, taller and bulkier with long and rich, black hair. The wrinkles were nowhere to be found. If anything, he kind of resembled the big guy with the baby face. Were they related? Possible. But Wilson did not think about any of that. He was blinded by rage and desperation. A devastating combo.Old man Jenkins knew sh*t had already hit the fan. The boy was dead for sure and it would be his fault because he had refused to teach or train him.‘Or maybe not. If I delay the elders, the boy should be able to find a way out of here.’ Old man Jenkins thought to himself. He rapidly stood up. His body slowly turne

Old cane lady aka ‘Grand Elder’ was infuriated at the sight of Ruthless and his swordsman and so were the rest of the oldies. They took a couple steps backwards as they stopped whatever they were doing and faced the Ruthless and the men and women who were exiting the portal in their numbers. Old man Jenkins saw a chance to make a move but unexpectedly, as he turned towards the nearest opponent, the blur faced him as well and frowned. Old man Jenkins looked her in the eyes as the young oldie sent a message to him telepathically.‘Jenkins, how about a truce?’‘Truce?’‘Yes, truce! If you help us, we will release Alice to you. It is not too late as the brainwashing has not begun to damage their brains yet. At least, not severely. It is not too late to save your granddaughter.’ She quickly bargained without wasting time on trivialities.‘Why should I help you? What makes me sure that you will not backstab me all over again?’ Old man Jenkins asked. His green mist veil that covered him fro