-= Gametoast.com =-

Sounds great, but the odds of all the continents staying in there current location for hundreds of years is unlikly. Especially with the nuking. Can't wait for the story !

Chapter One:

Louis Jacobs looked around as the Lander worked its way to New Zealand. Mere days ago, the UMC had issued a call to arms, and of course Louis and his friends had answered. However, they were Bloodless, which sealed their fate as Grunts. However, they were still serving the call, and assisting the world by helping to create order and peace.

He and his two friends joined almost a dozen others as the first in what would be many volunteer squads to assist the coming attack on Hong Kong. His companions, practically brothers to him, were Gerardo Marez and Jack "Paulie" Duncan. Gerardo loved to crack jokes, and that was the main reason they kept him around. Of course, he knew enough lies to get them out of some pretty tough situations, which was useful as well. Paulie was more a silent type, only speaking if absolutely necessary, and even then it was just a very short sentance. But when he did speak, it was always useful information.

"All right, soldiers, gear up. We're getting close to the island." That was Sergeant McConeaheagh. The Sergeant stood up, and walked over to one of the viewports. Below them was the one place on Earth untouched by the war. The island of New Zealand was rolling with hills covered in all sorts of vegetation. At the very center was a small camp, about the size of the average suburb. "Welcome to Camp Jordan, soldiers. If you've got any prayers, say 'em now. You won't have time to once we hit the ground."

EDIT: The chapter was originally much better, but I got logged out mid post, so I lost my stuff and had to start over. I'll have the second chapter up by this time tomorrow.

Est magna victoria! (It is a great victory)
I like this. Very good idea for a story. Interesting factions, good characters, high probability of massive explosions...nice. Keep up the good work.

Chapter Two:

Liutenant Marcus Neal watched as the new recruits stepped off the Lander, and marched out into the clearing. Hmph. Not much to work with. Let's hope they aren't a flop like the last squad.

He walked up to the recruits and stood in front of them. He could see the fear in their eyes. They weren't afraid to fight. No, they wouldn't have signed up if that was the case. Lt. Neal was just a very intimidating man. Standing at 7'2, he was probably the tallest Human in existance. The fact he was more muscular than half of the recruits combined probably didn't help, either.

"Ten-SHUN!" The recruits, out of fear or discipline, immediately saluted. The sweat suggested the former. "Welcome to Camp Jordan, recruits! I am Liutenant Marcus Neal, but you will refer to me as "Sir", got it recruits?!"

They all replied with a newfound zeal "Sir! Yes sir!"

"That's good, recruits! All I ask of you is your utmost trust, because through this month of training I will be your leader, your friend, your enemy, your oppresioner, your discipliner, your instructor, and if need be, your executioner!" Neal noticed the Hispanic gulp. "Now then, it's time we got down to business. During this month, you will receive one day of rest, and that day is today. We will be watching a demonstration from the other recruits. You are to observe, take note of their strategies, and thier weapon choice for different situations. Note that to them, this isn't just a simulation. Whichever team wins graduates and heads out to the front lines. If they lose, they spend another month here. Follow me, and prepare to be amazed."

Very good chapters. I like the characters and the changing point of view.

How many books/chapters are you planning on

At the very least 50 chapters, if not many more. There are going to be storylines with all three factions, and believe me, there is more planned for Private Louis Jacobs than any of you know... :maulsaber:

Chapter Three:

The recruits gathered and took their seats in the grandstand. In front of them was a large field at least a square mile in size. Hay bales, corn fields, and just enough buildings to be considered a village, dominated by a chapel, dotted the landscape. On the west side of the field, in the village, the recruits could see a team suiting up in standard issue battle armor, though it was tinted red instead of the average olive green. On the eastern side in a cornfield, a blue-armored team was doing the same. Almost five minutes passed until Lt. Neal shouted over a megaphone, delivering the message through speakers throughout the battlefield, "Squad leaders, are your teams ready?" Two clicks on the radio from each team signaled yes. "Very well, then. When I fire my pistol, both sides begin mobilization. 3...2...1...GO!" Neal fired the pistol right past a microphone, just to make sure the teams could hear it, and both groups were off.

Red team set themselves up in the village, with 2 soldiers to each of the seven houses, four more patrolling the city streets, with a little discretion to avoid becoming sniper bait, and five more, including the squad leader, Sergeant Cornwallis, took positions in the chapel. Finally, a single sniper got up onto the roof. However, he was more likely for observation, as anyone that had been in the camp for more than a week would tell you, if Blue team saw you, you're going to be sniped.

Luckily, it appeared Blue team had taken the bait. The two-dozen troops slowly moved through the brush, and finally approached the village. They surveyed the area with caution, always having a soldier clear the area before the rest of the squad would advance. They finally calmed themselves, realizing that there was no one in the village. They moved as a large group now, with little caution.

"Those idiots!" Neal murmured. "I taught them better than that."

Blue team moved around the corner of a street, and marched upwards. They never even glanced at the overturned cart. It would cost them dearly. From behind the cart, four Red troops popped up and fired off bursts. Splats of red appeared on five Blues, and they fell to the ground.

"Ay carumba!" Marez yelled. "Sir, did they just kill those Blues?!"

"Don't worry about it, recruit." Neal assured. "It's a tranquilizer paint. Whatever limb it hits, it parylyzes slightly or totally, depending on how much paint hit. Four of them have been marked "dead" but one got hit in the leg. See? He's dragging himself out of the way."

Sure enough, one Blue pulled himself back behind the corner into cover. He popped out and took a shot. One Red instantly passed out, and the other three tried to retreat. Two were gunned down, but the third made it into the chapel.

"All right, Blues, gather up!" Their leader, Sergeant Darbury yelled. The remaining Blues, minus the wounded one, who had dragged himself into a nook where he could hear, but not be an easy target. "It's pretty obvious the Reds have holed up in the chapel. We've gotta flush 'em out. Here's the plan: Cpl. Hans, take two soldiers and head around the back entrance. Kill anything that comes out. Shoot first, ask questions later. That should go as a warning to the rest of you: Don't go out that door. Anyways, the rest of you will take your flashbang and throw them in from different points on my cue, to make sure we get all of 'em. Then, you Jefferson, and you, Thomas, will toss your paint grenades wherever the most of them have hole-- wait a minute. Where's Thomas?"

"He was hit, sir" A soldier answered. "He's taking cover, but he's listening."

"Right, then. Anyways, once the grenades go off, the rest of us will go in, and wipe them out, got it?"

"Right!" His men responded.

"All right, then, let's go." The plan went as expected, as the Blues took their positions. A minute later, Darbury gave the signal, and a dozen flashbangs flew in, blinding whoever was in there. Jefferson and Thomas, however, were partially blinded as well, so they threw their grenades at random. After the explosion, the Blues ran in without thinking, believing all the Reds were already dead. However, they found an empty room.

"Whoa." Jefferson commented. "Where the hell are they?"

"I don't know," Darbury replied. "but--"

"Now!" And with that cue, a bullet hit Darbury right in the side of the head, and he fell dead. Before the soldiers could even respond, the Reds swung down from the rafters above, firing their weapons with wild abandon. The paint bullets coated the room in red, taking out most of them on impact. One soldier crashed right into Jefferson, and the two flew right out the window, and landing outside... right next to Thomas. The soldier shot Jefferson in the chest, knocking him out, but before he could even move, a full clip entered his chest and splattered his face. The soldier fell dead, and finally getting feeling back, Thomas stood, and ran in. He found a warzone. Three Blues were taking cover behind a bench and the podium, facing off against seven Reds on the other side, led by Cornwallis. Everyone else was dead. Thomas picked up his radio to call for reinforcements, but he looked to the back with dismay, to see Hans and his men piled up at the threshold.

He had barely processed this before a bullet zinged past his head, and Thomas ducked, barely avoiding it. He blindfired, and caught Cornwallis in the side. The sergeant fell wounded, and this was enough to enrage two soldiers, who ran forward. They were mowed down by the Blues. With this, Thomas got an idea.

"Hey, you three!" He yelled, but just quiet enough so the Reds couldn't hear.

"What do you want?!" One responded.

"I've got a plan to take out the last few, but you're going to be shot. Are you willing to risk it?"

The three paused and looked at each other. The one from before answered "If you can guarantee us a victory, we'll do it."

"All right," Thomas responded. "Run forward as fast as you can and get their fire directed at you, while I sneak around back and take them out before they see me."

"Right!" The Blue yelled. The three ran forward, guns blazing. The Reds returned fire, at the cost of three of them, leaving only one and Cornwallis. But one Blue was cut down as well. As the firefight raged, Thomas ran out the entrance he came in. Just halfway to the back, a bullet zinged by, and hit the dirt mere inches from him. Thomas rolled behind cover and pinpointed the assailant. Top of the roof, west side. .50 cal semi-auto sniper, Shifter manufacturer. At this, he pulled out his antique Springfield, and dropped a snake cam onto the ground. Using it, he waited until the Red sniper got nervous and poked his head out. That was his moment. Thomas sprung from his hiding spot, and with a single shot, the sniper was knocked out... and fell from the building. Ouch!

With that, Thomas prepared to move, but realized with a shock: The shooting had stopped. Racked with guilt and fear, he ran to the back entrance, but before he got in front of it, he heard footsteps. He stopped and jumped behind cover. He used his snake cam, and saw to his dismay that the one Red was carrying Sergeant Cornwallis out of the chapel.

"Wow, Sarge. I can't believe we made it through that one."

"You're telling me, Private. You gotta wonder, though: What made the Blues come out of cover? They might have won if they hadn't."

We're still going to win. Thomas thought to himself. He pulled out his assault rifle and jumped out, while firing a dozen shots. He tried to calm himself, but couldn't. They were both on the ground, dead. It made no sense. He thought nothing of it, though, and picked himself up. He turned around, only to hear a crack, and fall flat on his face. Crap! One's still alive! He tried to run, but couldn't. He had been hit in both the legs. He turned around to look for an opening. Desperate, he fired for the first opening he saw: the groin. With a rather pained groan, the Red fell. Thomas heard something over the radio. It was Lieutenant Neal.

"Congratulations, Blue Team. You won. We're sending out medics to pick you up. Congratulations, all of you. You did the UMC proud with that fight. Get yourselves some rest."

Nice. Very good. It got a bit confusing there for a tad, but its okay. I do think that the last names are a bit too much like current time period, but that's just me.

plasmoidmonkey wrote:Nice. Very good. It got a bit confusing there for a tad, but its okay. I do think that the last names are a bit too much like current time period, but that's just me.

Yeah, they are, I suppose. But I was going more for a sci-fi post-apocalyptic nightmare rather than a sci-fi "Beam me up, Scotty" story. These are descendants of our generation, which means that there are still the same families, which would mean the same names. I'll try to vary the names a bit, but so far these have just been names depending on where the person is from, and then I think of a name from that region. It's also really dependant on the group. For example, the UMC are something akin to the US today, a melting pot of different cultures. Meanwhile, the Order of Godsblood (Whom the next chapter is about, actually) have names more along the line of something you'd be named back in the 15th century. Finally, the Shifters have more like codenames. Some have regular names, but none have middle or last names. They're all called by a unique single word.

Chapter 3 is awsome. By far the best so far . . .
Gimme more !

Chapter Four:

"Matthias! Keep that torch held up, none of us can see!"

Matthias was an Initiate in the Order, and had been given the honor just a week before being sent on this excavation. No one knew what was really going on, but the archaeologist said it was of vital importance. He and five other Bloodmages, led by the renowned Archmage Vesuvius had been sent to assist the excavators in whatever they needed help with.

The place they had entered was a cave, but it quickly became a tomb. On the ceiling almost a hundred meters above them, elaborate paintings of the Order's greatest victories were painted with striking detail. The most amazing of them all the True Colossus, a gigantic beast taken on the form of a Crusader, which was said to be summoned on the day of the Order's final victory over the Heretics. (The Order's name for all who do not posses the same powers as them.)

Finally, they entered the main chamber of the tomb. In the center stood three Bloodmages, overlooking a sarcophagus of some sort.

"We have arrived." The Archmage proclaimed. "What be the deed you hath requested?"

"Ah," one of the three, obviously the archaologist, said. "You are the Bloodmages we sent for. Come here, I would ask for you to see this." The six gathered around the three, and stared in awe at the engraving on the sarcophagus. It spoke in an ancient language, completely unknown to all but a select few. "Allow me to translate this marvelous discovery." The archaologist said. He read slowly, as even he barely understood the language. "Here likes Methusalah of the Divine Council, first Grandmaster of the Order, keeper of the Colossus, key to the Final Victory, hope of all Godsblood."

"You cannot truly say that this is who you suspect?" The Archmage snapped.

"But we do." The archaologist replied. "This is the tomb of the Grandmaster; the one who must be awakened to bring about the end of the war, and the final victory of the Order." The Archmage seemed stunned, but slowly solemned.

"Very well. What must we do?"

"The life of an Archmage must be given. Then he will come back to life, and lead us in the Archmage's stead."

"Very well." Said the Archmage. "I know what I must do." He opened the sarcophagus to reveal a dusty skeleton. The body of Methusalah. The Archmage placed his hands over the skeleton, and began to recite incantations and moved his fingers in odd way. They were surrounded in an aura of light that filled the entire room.

But the ceremony was cut short. A massive explosion rocked the tomb, blowing dust and debris everywhere. A hole was blown in the ceiling, and through came a dozen soldiers. They hit the ground, and only then did Matthias recognize them.

Terminators.

The pinnacle of UMC technology, the Terminators were the strongest Blood Bolts placed inside exoskeletons which increased their strength, speed and endurance tenfold. They were armed with an arm-mounted interchangable weapon, that served as anything from a sniper rifle to a rocket launcher. In their left hand were six metal "fingers" that combined to form a working - and brutally effective - drill. They were clad in silver armor, reminiscent of the Sword-wielding Warriors of Old. But on their head was a helmet with a dome-visor, going from thier chin to their crown, giving them full view of everything around them. The UMC must have caught wind of what they were up to, to send these killing machines.

Even worse, at their head was a Sergeant. Better in every way than his subordinates, the Sergeant was only distinguishable by his crimson armor, and the much bigger dent he left in whatever he hit.

"Terminators, form up!" The Sergeant yelled. The Terminators complied, spreading out just enough to trap the Bloodmages in the tomb. "All right, freaks. Step away form the sarcophagus with your hands up."

"Very well." Said the archaologist. "My hands are up!" His hand shot forward, and from it came a massive stream of fire, engulfing one Terminator. The other eleven didn't even notice. They opened fire, and the poor researcher was dead in a second. And from the smoke of his fire came the Terminator, barely even scratched. Given an excuse, the Terminators charged with incredible speed, charging right into the Bloodmages. They fought back, casting fire spells of their own, but it did nothing. They were either knocked away or killed. As one came for Matthias, he thought fast, and began to move his hand in a forward-backward circular motion as if they were to wheels. In between his hands, a disc of wind formed. He launched it, and it hit the Terminator smack in the face. The Terminator flipped backwards and hit the ground skidding, sending debris everywhere. By some luck, a shard of rock punctured the helmet of a second Terminator, killing him.

As the Terminator Sergeant charged the second and third Archaologists, Matthias noticed gleams of white appear on their index and middle fingers. The two stabbed together with the fingers directly into the chest of the behemoth, and his armor dented inward, completely smashed by the spell, and he flew dead across the room.

The tomb was in chaos now, as bullets and spells flew every which way, Bloodmages and Terminators alike dropping dead. As the battle drew on, the Mages grew tired, while the Terminators only grew more powerful. Finally, Matthias was alone. Four Terminators surrounded him, and he desperately tried to conjure another wind disc, but the fatigue was too great. He was going to die. But suddenly, the light from the Archmage grew, and all eyes turned to him. He was the skeleton now, and the dead man in the sarcophagus looked like he had died only minutes ago. Then seconds. Then... he wasn't dead. The man's eyes opened, and the Archmage's body fell to the floor. The Grandmaster Methusalah rose from his tomb and got up. He glanced at Matthias, and then at the Terminators. His eyes sweeped the scene of carnage before him.

"Has my absence truly been so great that we lose so many to so few?" He glanced at a Terminator, and his eyes turned red. The supersoldier caught fire, and before he could move, exploded in a fiery blaze. The other three opened fire. Methusalah sweeped his hand, and a purple veil appeared before him. The bullets hit the veil, and seemed to go halfway through, then simply stopped and dropped to the floor. The old man looked at Matthias.

"Get behind me, boy! Unless you wish to suffer the same fate as these Heretics!" Matthias instantly obeyed, and got behind the old Grandmaster. The old man sweeped his hand, and from it came a pillar of flame greater than any of you have ever seen. It engulfed the tomb, killing and purging all but the two mages. When the fire was gone, so was all the evidence of the vicious battle that had taken place. Finally, Methusalah seemed to calm himself, and he looked at Matthias for longer than a second.

"So, then, the war has truly gone so out of hand that I must be summoned?" Matthias nodded. "I see. Follow me, then. We have much to do and very little time to do it." And with that, the two rushed to the exit.

The end had begun.

Hmm, combining magic and technology . . . Interesting. Who is our hero? Who are we supposed to like? Perhaps we find out later . The ending should be "It was the beggining of the end"

To be honest, there is no "hero", per se. The story's called "A World Without Light and Dark" for a reason. No one is good or evil, just trying to survive an epic conflict.

As for who you're rooting for, you can pick your own side. Personally, I'm a fan of the UMC because they're the most human-like, but that won't affect the story in any way. Second, just for your sake, the main characters are Louis Jacobs, Matthias, and a Shifter General. (We'll get to him later...) though Blue Team isn't out of the story quite yet, and the Grandmaster is going to be very important.

And finally, just to make you wonder, here's a little foreshadowing: Every main character in the storyline will be connected in some vital way. What that connection is, I won't say until we get to that point, but I'm guessing it'll be somewhat of a surprise. Oh, and the next chapter will start the battle for Hong Kong. There's going to be explosions and snipers and giant mechs and puppies!

Like my puppy?

Sorry about size.

Nice story, I enjoy reading it. However, I do feel that some parts are a little rushed. Mabey you could slow down and spend some more time with details. Thats all I have to say.

I agree with JackSkratch, some of the battle scenes need some more description (though I imagine it's hard to do that), but otherwise, it's a very interesting story.

Sorry about the painfully long wait. I've had a lot of schoolwork. But on the bright side, it's given me much more time to think of a chapter to add more to the story instead of going right to Hong Kong. (However, that means no puppies for a few more chapters. Sorry) Anyway's, here's

Chapter Five:

The recruits lined up in a row, 6 long and 4 deep. Lt. Neal marched up and down the line, evaluating the men. Most of the recruits weren't much. Just farmers and kids down on their luck, looking for a fresh start. However, there were a few with the necessary skills. Most of them were the average Caucasian male, but one man of African descent towered over them. "Paulie", he believed they called him. Standing at 6'8, and a Third Degree Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do, Paulie had the necessary brawn to be a soldier, and judging from his school record, he had more than enough brains.

Second was the Hispanic, Gerardo. The kid grew up in the ghettos, so book smarts weren't something he was expected to have, but he had passed the entrance exam, so that was good enough. And judging by the scars on his face, he'd probably been in his fair share of scraps.

He continued down the line, evaluating man after man, pathetic failure after pathetic failure, until he reached the last in line: Louis Jacobs. At first he looked like the average man: About 5'11 in height, average weight, and he'd passed high school with a B average. However, that's not what was interesting. Apparently, he'd been in the police once in New York, before the Shifters took over. Average service record, average life. However, one file marked "Top Secret - Top Staff Only" Had been too tempting not to check. Occording to the file, about a week before the attack, he had been plagued by nightmares, showing the Shifters rising from the river and destroying New York with some kind of massive Cruiser from the Interstellar Age. Everyone said that his dreams were crazy -- until the Shifters followed Jacobs' dream exactly. At first, they had feared the worst: Ultima Disease. But as no more visions followed, they ignored it, and let him return to his life. The kid was an interesting candidate. Neal would keep a close eye on him. But he caught himself in his prolonged thought and returned to his speech.

"All right, recruits, listen up! Today is your first of 30 days of Basic. You will hopefully only go through this once, so be sure to listen and memorize every word I say. Got it, recruits?!"

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"Very good. Now then, today we will begin with something simple. An obstacle course." He turned around and pointed them to it. This was no obstacle course. It was hell made from wood and rope. Thirty foot rope climbs, chasms of rickety bridges leading down to a soft landing... on splintery wood. There seemed to be no end until they saw something very vital: On each end of the course, there was a flag: one red, one blue. "Yes, on this course, two teams will be playing Capture the Flag. You will have no weapons except your body and whatever you find on the course. Working as a team, you are to get to the enemy's base, capture their flag, and bring it back to your base. If you are knocked off the course, you are tagged 'dead'. If you are knocked out, you are tagged 'more dead'. If you get hit over the head with a wooden board, are knocked out, and then fall off the course only to be woken up when you hit the ground, you are tagged 'pathetically dead.' The only rule is: Once a recruit is dead, they are an illegal target, and if you hit them again, you are not tagged 'pathetically dead.' Your are just tagged 'pathetic'. That is all. Now, then, to split up the recruits."

Neal proceeded to separate the 24 soldiers into their permanent teams. Louis, Paulie and Gerardo were all placed on Red Team. They moved to their spot, and set themselves up. Louis stood by the flag, Paulie waited on one of the bridges, and Gerardo was just gone. No one knew where he went, but Neal assured them he was still on the course. He just wasn't going to tell them where.

"Now, then, recruits. On your marks, get set, GO!" Neal blew the whistle, and Blue team rocked out of their starting positions. On the rope climb, three of them climbed, only to find a Red at the top, who knocked off two with a wooden plank, and then toppled off the tower from a kick by the third. The Blue slid down a zipline, but on the way, two Reds hurled rock and knocked him off. He hit a wooden beam with his head, which cracked. The two reds fell off with him.

The rest of the Blues began to charge across the bridge, and rammed into Paulie and the rest of the Reds. They held them back, but were losing ground, and fast.

Louis panicked. He knew if their line broke they'd come after him next, and he'd be as good as dead. He was just waiting for it when he heard someone crow caw. He looked at the other side of the bridge. On top of one of the pillars by it, Gerardo stood on top. Since they were kids, the crow caw had been their secret line of communication. Louis immediately knew what he was going to do. He gave the thumbs up, and Gerardo jumped from the pillar yelling "Death from above!"

He landed on the bridge, and with his hands, he was able to rip apart one of the rails. The bridge became lopsided. And a various assortment of Reds and Blues fell off the bridge. The rest of the Blues turned and ran towards Gerardo, and the Reds ran after them. The Blues came close and were nearly upon him, but they were cut off with the yell "GAME OVER!" With that, Gerardo pulled the second railing apart, and all of them fell off. They were all dead.

Standing at their side of the bridge, though, was Paulie, who was smart enough not to run out. He turned towards Louis with a smile on his face and something more valuable in his hand: the Blue flag.

"What?! Paulie, how'd you get it?"

"Simple. While everyone was clogged up at the bridge, Gerardo ran over and grabbed their flag, then handed it off to me before he pulled his little stunt. All right, Louis, let's put this in the holster and--" but he was cut short. His smile turned to a blank stare, and he fell flat on his face. Three feet away was a bloodied rock. And from the bridge, one Blue pulled himself up. Louis was shocked, but knew what to do. He ran forward and kicked the Blue as hard as he could, but the Blue grabbed him and fell backward, and they started to fall off the bridge. Louis desperately grabbed the flag, and with all his strength he threw it, just as they fell off the platform. Then, everything went black.

Louis awoke with a start, to find himself in the barracks. He was surrounded by Red team, and they all had solemn faces.

"Let me guess," Louis said with a sigh. "we lost the game and everyone's mad about it."

"We're not mad about the game, Louis." Gerardo said. "We're mad at you." Louis was shocked, but could realize what happened.

"I missed the throw, didn't I?" Louis asked.

"It's just..." Gerardo began "Why didn't you tell us about that arm of yours?!" He yelled. The entire team cracked up. "See, Louis, after you fell, the flag kept going, and was gonna miss, but you threw in the perfect way, so it went off course right as it went by, and it went right in the holster! We won, dude!" By now, Louis was laughing, too. They had won their first excercise, and no one was dead. Maybe joining the army wasn't such a bad idea.

Or was it?

Good update, but now i'm developing a few issues.
1: training seems too much like what the SPARTANS in the Halo novels did. and if they are fighting a war, why would they take the chances of killing off their own men in training?
2: Where is all this technology they're supposed to have? i'd imagine that the soldiers are genetically altered seven foot giants with enough battle implant chips to float a whole platoon.
3:Again with the names. If this is 700 years in the future after almost 200 years of war, names will not stay the same.
4: Again, if there's a war and lack of natural resourses and a plague, how are there any "average' people? Only the strong survive an apocolypse, right?

Anywho, I'm just being nitpicky, I suppose. Nice work nonetheless.

Oh, was 'Death from above!" a reference to Naruto Abridged 18?

plasmoidmonkey wrote:Good update, but now i'm developing a few issues.
1: training seems too much like what the SPARTANS in the Halo novels did. and if they are fighting a war, why would they take the chances of killing off their own men in training?
2: Where is all this technology they're supposed to have? i'd imagine that the soldiers are genetically altered seven foot giants with enough battle implant chips to float a whole platoon.
3:Again with the names. If this is 700 years in the future after almost 200 years of war, names will not stay the same.
4: Again, if there's a war and lack of natural resourses and a plague, how are there any "average' people? Only the strong survive an apocolypse, right?

Anywho, I'm just being nitpicky, I suppose. Nice work nonetheless.

Oh, was 'Death from above!" a reference to Naruto Abridged 18?

1. There may be some similarities, yes, but only because I liked the extremeness (if that's a word) from the training, and thought it would be pretty appropriate in a world where you need all the training you can get just to survive. And also, the rock was just large, it wasn't like a spear or anything. They're very careful to make sure nothing on the field is deadly.
2. The technology is there. You've seen it already in the terminators, and just wait until you see the Colossus mech; and their weapons are more advanced, it's just that armor has advanced, too, so it's still similar in effectiveness to today. And besides, it wouldn't be any fun to read if the UMC were that overpowered!
3. I stick to my previous argument that they're still the same families, just far into the future. I personally never saw the good idea behind the whole "future names" thing. Just look at Halo, it's almost as far in the future, and even then they still have names like Johnson and Keyes... and Lopez.
4. In the intro I explained that the UMC created a cure for the plague, and gave it to some of the Bloodless, and now those Bloodless serve as soldiers, receiving all the nourishment they need.
5. It was not a Naruto reference to my knowledge. I just started saying it a lot on Halo 3 when I lunged people from the air, and thought the quote fit the situation.
6. I'm surprised no one had a question about the "Ultima Disease"