Chapter 2: The Day the Sky Fell

The constant roar of gunfire was deafening. Dust and smoke filled the air, blurring the already barren landscape.

Jake crouched behind a crumbling wall, his heart hammering in his chest. Another mortar shell exploded nearby, shaking the ground beneath him. He gripped his sniper rifle tighter, every nerve on high alert. This was his reality now: a relentless cycle of fear, adrenaline, and exhaustion.

But tucked inside his pocket, close to his heart, was a small, worn photograph. He pulled it out, his thumb gently tracing his wife's smiling face and his daughter's bright eyes. It was a snapshot of a life that felt impossibly distant, a life he desperately wanted to come home to.

A wave of horrific memories crashed over him. He saw his fellow soldiers bleeding, their faces marked by gunshot wounds. The enemy was dragging someone away, their eyes wide with terror.

He saw Sergeant Diaz, his mentor, lying motionless in the dirt, a dark stain spreading across his back.

He saw young Private Rossi, fresh out of training, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle, crying out for his mother. He saw the enemy soldiers, their faces cold and hard, their weapons aimed at his friends. These images were a stark reminder of the danger, a chilling glimpse of what awaited him if he failed. He quickly shoved the photo back into his pocket, his hand trembling slightly.

He had to stay focused. He was their marksman, their overwatch. He had to protect them, even from afar.

He brought his sniper rifle, a Sako TRG 22 A1, to his shoulder, carefully adjusting the scope. His breath slowed, becoming steady despite the surrounding chaos. He found his target: an enemy soldier positioned behind a heavy machine gun, preventing his squad from advancing. He carefully lined up the shot, his finger gently tightening on the trigger. The world narrowed to the view through the scope's crosshairs. Breathe in… breathe out… hold steady.

The rifle cracked the recoil, a sharp jolt against his shoulder. Through the scope, he saw the enemy soldier slump forward, his head falling against the machine gun. For a brief, silent moment, the gunfire stopped. Then, he heard the sounds of his squad moving forward. He had created an opening for them.

Apart from that, he saw faint streaks of light cutting through the clouds above, not far from their location…"rocks falling? Maybe a meteor shower? No, it moved differently and faster; but it was definitely not a mortar," he muttered to himself. He brushed it off and focused on his sniper's scope.

But as he scanned the area, he saw something that made his blood run cold: a group of enemy soldiers emerging from a hidden bunker, their RPGs aimed directly at his squad. He had to warn them.

He grabbed his radio, his voice urgent. "Squad, incoming RPGs! Take cover!"

A loud explosion shook the ground. Jake felt a sharp sting in his leg and a ringing in his ears, but he was alive. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline overriding the pain.

He saw the enemy soldiers pouring out of the bunker, their RPG launchers still smoking. He had to act fast. "Marksmen, on me!" he yelled, his voice hoarse. "Target those RPG gunners first! Eliminate the immediate threats!" He quickly assessed the situation, counting five of his snipers still alive and responsive. He pulled a compact rocket launcher – a Carl Gustaf recoilless rifle – from his gear.

"Squad, get down!" he roared, bracing himself against the crumbling wall. He aimed the bazooka at the bunker entrance, his finger finding the trigger.

He shot the hidden bunker. There was a moment of silence, and then he heard his sergeant on the radio, his voice strained but resolute.

"Squad, we cannot take them all down. I will cover all of you, then run back to camp. It's been an honor to serve with you all."

The sergeant grabbed the two machine guns beside him, his movements slow and labored, but his eyes filled with a fierce determination. Even as he struggled to stand, he hoisted the heavy weapons.

He staggered forward, firing both machine guns in a devastating barrage, creating a wall of lead that kept the enemy at bay. It was a suicidal charge, but it bought the squad precious time. Jake and the others scrambled to their feet, sprinting towards the relative safety of the rear lines.

They glanced back, seeing their sergeant silhouetted against the smoke and gunfire, a lone figure holding back a tide of enemies.

They ran back to the camp, soldiers holding other wounded soldiers in their arms, running for their lives.

Jake left his things, brought only his sniper, and ran with the other marksmen.

A bright light lit up the sky, and as they ran, their radio cracked to life, not with orders or reports but with a panicked voice from the camp, like a warning. There it was, a cryptic message from their radio.

"Unconfirmed reports…large objects from the sky…atmospheric entry… multiple sightings…"

The transmission cut out, leaving a chilling sense in its wake. The bright light in the sky is almost blinding, painting the sky orange and white.

A huge rock struck their way back to camp…Then another one… The ground beneath his feet started to crumble.

He ran as fast as he could, leaving his guns behind… Avoiding the ground splitting wide open from the impact of the rocks falling. He stumbled, caught his foot on an unseen rock, and fell.

"Not now," he thought while gathering all his strength and trying to stand back up. He was injured. Pain radiating from his legs, blood seeping through a tear in his pants. The jagged edge of the rock had gouged deep into his calves.

"I don't want to die like this," he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to be back on his feet, only to stumble on the ground again.

Through the haze of dust and pain, he watched his comrades running for their lives; even the enemies stopped firing at them and retreated to their base.

"Maybe this is it," he murmured. "This is not about the war anymore. This is not their doing. It seems like the sky has fallen", he whispered to himself, while his hands were still gripping his pocket where the photo of his wife and daughter lies.

That was the last thing he remembered before everything went black.

—

Zack was doing rounds on his patients before going home after a long shift. He was with Olivia, also a resident. They have been together since med school. Zack treats her like her best friend, but Olivia considers him more than that.

"So, what are your plans for tonight?" Zack said while walking in the hallway, scanning the patients; charts.

"I'll just probably sleep since I've been here since yesterday. I am exhausted," Olivia said.

Before Zack could reply, the ground shuddered violently; he steadied himself against the wall, his heart racing. An earthquake? The lights in the ward went off.

He thought it was just some technical problems and will go back again. But, the power from the entire hospital shut down.

Alarms blared; the patients started to scream; there was a vast blazing rock that fell in the middle of the hallway. Patients began to run across the hall. It was all just pure chaos. They ran as fast as they could and helped patients get outside as fast as possible.

Zack looked at Olivia with a concerned look; knowing Zack, it seemed he was asking her if she was okay. Olivia nodded and tried to catch her breath, her hands trembling slightly. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Zack glanced at the hallway, where the ceiling had collapsed, blocking one of the main exits.

"We'll split up," he said firmly. "I'll head to the ICU to check for anyone left behind. You take the west wing; there is an exit, and make sure everyone's out."

"No!" Olivia grabbed his arm. "It's too dangerous to be alone."

Zack hesitated, but the patient's distant cries broke his resolve. "We don't have time to argue. Go, Olivia. I'll catch up. I promise."

Reluctantly, Olivia nodded, her eyes lingering on him for a moment before she turned and sprinted down the west wing, weaving through panicked staff and patients.

Zack reached the ICU, where falling debris trapped him. There was one patient left in the ICU. It was his patient. He rushed towards her and rolled her bed out in the hallway, shielding her from another meteor's impact.

Meanwhile, Olivia led patients out but was struck by debris. Her legs were pierced with a metal that goes through her skin, making it difficult for her to walk. Staggering, she crossed paths with Zack, both battered and bloodied. Zack had a wound on his forehead, and his arms were bleeding from falling shards of glass.

"You're hurt," Zack said.

"And so are you," Olivia replied through gritted teeth, though her face betrayed the pain coursing through her body.

As they reached the stairwell, another tremor rocked the building. They were thrown off balance, tumbling down several steps.

Olivia's breath came in shallow gasps, her face pale and streaked with dust and blood. She clutched at Zack's arm, her grip weak but desperate. "Zack…" Her voice trembled, barely audible over the chaos around them.

He turned to her, his own face etched with exhaustion and fear. "Olivia, we need to keep moving."

She shook her head, her eyes locking onto his. "No… I need to say this. If this is it… if we don't make it out…" 

She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. "I've loved you since the day we met. I couldn't say it before, but I can't… I can't leave without you knowing."

Zack froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but another tremor rocked the building, cutting him off. He tightened his grip on her hand, his mind racing. There was no time for words, only action.

"We'll talk about this later," he said firmly, though his voice wavered. 

Olivia nodded weakly, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and regret. As they stumbled forward, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the distant rumble of destruction.

Zack reached for Olivia's hand, and touched her face. His grip tightened even as his vision blurred.

He saw faints of light, and a chilling message echoed in their minds before the darkness claimed him.

[Survivors identified. System Activation in progress.]