Chapter 1-Purge Captain

[08:23, April the 4th 2094]

"I always forget how stuffy the air gets when I plunge off planes without a parachute."

"All I need is to just sit tight and wait for the impact, I guess…"

On the clear sky, something like a meteorite was closing in towards the Goban village. Within seconds, a uniformed soldier crashed through the roof of a barrack blasting the crib to shards on landing. The whole village was in distress seeing the dust raising as if a sandstorm seemed to hit the village from its center.

Goban is one of the poor desert villages located in the Southern outskirts of the Temirus District. The climate is dry and harsh. Rain is a miracle. Yet, villagers manage to irrigate efficiently so there are some trees and patches of grass resistant to the desert harshness. Here, people live off goat, sheep and cattle herds as shepherds and tanners. Nothing special happens here.

[Station message on the 4th line of communication, 23:10 , April the 3rd, 2094]

"no. 36, the location of Kamir's whereabouts is currently unknown, but we have received intel that someone from Goban aids the rebels. Find them and make sure they spill out. Finding Kamir before they launch the attack is top priority. This is the only way to prevent more lives from going to waste. I, General Silvian, proclaim you commanding captain of this mission. You are one of my most trusted officers so I know you will get the job done. Good Luck!"

"Roger."

The thick cloud of dust kept on rising, and more people came to see what happened. From the wreckage a bloodied corpse was slowly finding its footing. The disfigured face and hands were recomposing mixing with a dark dust suffocating the air. The villagers were petrified. Their remote contact with the rest of the world hid these devilish creations from them. Their eyes remained fixed on the slim silhouette that was coming towards them. Only a few old souls could recognize this dreadfully familiar sensation. The 4th World War. A déjà vu of helplessness topped by a deadly silence.

With the soldier's steps approaching a nearby house, people were beginning to snap out and frightened whispers could be heard in every direction.

"Run!", "Hide!", "Cover!" "He's here to slaughter us!"

The soldier's eyes didn't flinch, didn't blink, didn't display any human emotion. He was heading towards a small house not far from the centre. The front door was an old wooden plank with a rusty wire instead of a handle.

"I don't have a name. I used to have one, but that was back long time ago. Today, I am no. 36. I am part of the AG project in charge of the Universal Purge Programme. Since the war has ended, I kept working for the Government with my comrades. Now I'm captain in the Special Action Forces under the direct command of the General Silvian. My job is to maintain "peace" and exterminate any revolutionary movement that goes against the ruling system. It's justice and something something… I don't remember nor care much for political strife. I just follow orders."

No. 36 gently opens the door. The first thing he sees, is a table with five children seated, eating some dry bread and a gooey-looking puree. It is lunchtime. They all freeze in fear. The dusty bloodied soldier approaches the table and take a seat next to the kids. He said: "Eat!", but they can barely gulp on their food. In a split-second, an axe cuts through the door and straight into the soldier's head. A noon heads inside to take the children out, thinking he must be dead given all the blood gushing out. Yet, No. 36 sat still on the chair like nothing happened. He spoke with an unnaturally warm voice: "Isn't it such a shame to spill blood on a holiday? But that can be forgiven if the kids go now, and you sister pray with me. Maybe God will have mercy on both our sins."

As soon as the nun sent the kids out, the door shut as if an unholy wind was about to decide her fate. The head started recomposing again as all the scattered cells gathered again into human form. He turned with his chain and asked the cautious woman a question. "When do the…".

"The line was cut, I repeat, the line is cut. 36' turned off his station" said Pedro, the communication service soldier situated on a cliff cca. 2 kilometres near the village. He is the human voice between the action forces on the field and the headquarters pawn, Jacob "the General's ears", who is charged to report every move to Silvian.

"It's alright. Tell me what happened."

"He got to the location, entered the house where a nun attacked him with an axe. Signal was low. I heard only the first half of the question, and then line cut off. Don't know if he did it on purpose, or the communication chip got damaged."

"Pedro, you must get used to these kinds of people. I know that you are new here, but what you need to know is that the purge program soldiers are the most capable of leading in this sort of missions. Don't fret yet, but be direct and firm with him, and he'll get back to you. He knows everyone's position and is conscious of everyone's role, but there are things he doesn't normally share with anyone. You must trust 36' because of the powerful gear-part he is in our mechanism. You know he's like 97 years, yet his powers kept him looking strong and young as a teenager."

"He's back online!"

"Pedro, is Jacob there?"

"Yes, sir. Can you report on the situation? I need to update the charts for the mission."

"Do you feel like it? I already got everything I needed."

*Gulp* "I want just to do my job properly, captain!"

"Then send them this: Mission accomplished. One causality. Necessary intel gathered. The target was neutralised and burned to fine dust from inside out"

"aah… Understood! Jacob sent a car to pick you up. Pedro Out." (Those people are insane, why did I even accept this job. I want to go back to my old job on radio tower connection lines.)

"Jacob! Are you there? Tell the General that the hideout is located…"

[17:56, April the 6th , 2094]

[The Waltt Cliff, Temirus District, Revolutionary Camp meeting point]

The wind blows hot and strong. A thunderstorm is on the way. The Camp of the Revolutionary Forces rests near the Saint John church, the place where all the leads of Iron Fist gathered. The faction is ruled by Kamir Mustafa, a cold-blooded extremist feared by the entire continent. His name is getting attention overseas as most influential and dangerous wanted criminal.

"Gentlemen, we're all gathered here to put the foundation of a new era. For that to happen, a mere alliance is not enough. We need strong bonds: Yuri, Said, Jaque, Rat, Dr. Cadar, I invite you to rise your glass in the name of a brotherhood that may last longer than any life on this earth!

"*Cheers*"

"But the second reason why I called you here is…"

Kamir raised a bag wrapped in bulletproof vests and duct tape. He opens it.

"Those are AG-fluid shots, used in Last Great War for the purge program. Now we can fight back on equal footing! We will take back what we lost and make them pay for their injustice. Soon, we'll fulfil our dreams and one day we'll be able to rest without having to worry the next day."

Yuri's head approved, Said eyes were full of fire, Rat laughed cunningly, Dr. Cadar observed silently everyone's reaction, and Jaque smiled kindly. Another toast and everybody raised their glass as high as they could and said "Long live the Iron Fist"