An Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint Chapter 66 - Episode 10-Disaster of Lasers (5)

"You. You furry bastard."

George slowly pressed his finger against the trigger while saying that.

"George, wait."

I was too short, so I wasn't at an angle where I could block where he was aiming. Damn my Asian genes.

"George, that's a Dokkaebi. The difference between an Incarnation and a Dokkaebi is like a Hypixel player versus an admin."

Scenarios were like chess boards, Incarnations were like pawns, and the players were the Dokkaebi. They were in control of the situation, and they created an entertaining game for the spectators. At the moment, we couldn't fight them. The Dokkaebi had a power called [Balloon Burst] - this was the ability that allowed them to pop people's heads like a pimple.

"Ethan, move. You don't understand who that is. What that thing has done."

"I think I do. Herald was the Dokkaebi overseeing your scenario, correct?"

George's arms began to tremble.

"He was the Dokkaebi that introduced you to the scenarios, the world of tragedy and voyeurism. He has also done the same to me. Please, lower your gun. We can't fight them. If they wanted to, they could kill us easily."

With reluctance, George lowered his gun. An uncharacteristic expression formed on his face: filled with resentment, hatred, and grief. Would all of that be aimed in my direction if I told him the truth?

"George," I said softly, "we need to work with this Dokkaebi if we want to pass the following scenarios."

"What?! No!"

My comrade was aghast. My proposal was unspeakable to him.

"George, what if I told you that this Dokkaebi helped me? What if I told you that the only reason we made it so far was because of them?"

"N-no."

"George, did you know that Incarnations can't open the shop without their Supporting Constellation? To be honest, I don't really have one, so how do I do it? It's easy. I struck a deal with the Dokkaebi themselves. When I bought your clothes and supplies, I did it thanks to them."

George backed away from me. He looked horrified.

"How long? How long have you been working together?"

Do I answer?

"The entire time."

"Why? Why do we need them?"

"I need Herald to broadcast the scenarios. He is also someone we can negotiate with."

"Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"I would like to talk to the Dokkaebi privately."

(Ho? This is unexpected.)

"Please, don't try anything," I said to George.

[Don't hurt George,] I told Herald via Dokkaebi Communication.

"Mr. Fran, let us leave."

[Herald, open a screen that I can watch from. I want to observe your conversation with George.]

We left this building and stood outside. Soon, a blue holographic screen appeared in front of my face. I looked at it.

***

"What do you want?"

[Excuse me?]

"What do you want from Ethan? You're using him."

[To be honest, he is using me. The privileges he has gained are unprecedented for Incarnations at this stage. In regards to what I want from him? I want him to live. He is the main reason my broadcasts are becoming popular again. So, do not worry, I will not hurt him or you.]

"You better not."

[Please, rest assured, Mr. Machen.]

George grew beads of sweat from his forehead, and they dripped down his brow line.

"Do we have to work with you?"

[Yes.]

"I'm not going to forgive you. But if you can help us survive another day, I'm willing to work with you. Just like in war, two sides must create a middle ground."

***

I smiled solemnly at the panel. George wasn't selfish and didn't prioritize his desires. The screen flickered away, and George emerged from the building.

"Ethan, don't worry. I understand. You didn't know what the dokkaebi did to me and my comrades, so don't blame yourself."

(But I did know what Herald did.)

"Thank you."

"If I may interject," Edison Fran said, "what is the next order of business?"

"Hm, we have to retrieve Rupert Williams and his remaining squad. May I procure a vehicle?"

"There is the MRAP."

"Then I'll take that. For now, oversee the defenses and other necessary repairs. George, would you like to accompany me?"

"Sure."

We walked to the parking lot. I rummaged through the dead bodies and found a pair of keys. I opened the door of this tank and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Shouldn't I drive?"

"Nah, you take the shotgun seat."

[Constellations that love joyrides hope to see an exciting car journey!]

We closed all the doors and departed from the tiny parking lot. We drove peacefully under the night sky, but the cabin was silent and awkward.

(Maybe I should sing a song.)

I think I had a perfect tune: the opening from "That '70's Show." I remember watching it on air TV with my mother - there would be a particular channel featuring old TV shows from the '80s and '90s.

"Hanging out, down the street."

[Constellations that love sitcoms wonder how old you are!]

"The same old thing we did last week! Not a thing to do, but attack a group!"

"Wha?"

"We're not all right; we're not all right!"

[Constellations are waiting for the last verse!]

"Hello, Washington!!"

[You have been sponsored 300 coins for your minor performance!]

"What was that?"

"It was the opening for "That '70s Show." I changed some of the lyrics. Oh, look, the mall!"

I parked the MRAP and told George to remain in the vehicle. I ventured into the large building and retraced my steps. I found Rupert and his men sitting around a small fire, eating food.

"Hello there."

"What?"

"Is someone there?"

"Wait, everyone, stand down!"

I saw Rupert ordering his men to lower their rifles. I smiled under my mask.

"Our new king is here," Rupert said.

"That kid actually did it?"

"No way."

"The notification was real?"

"Mr. Williams, I'm glad you are well. May we speak privately?"

I approached the haggard-looking man.

"Yes."

Rupert Williams followed after me, and we took a short walk.

"So, you succeeded? You've gained the flag?"

"Indeed, I have."

"What happened to the former king?"

"He's dead."

Rupert paused and pursed his lips as if he was about to ask an uncomfortable question.

"How did you do it?"

"Do you truly want to know?"

"Yes."

"I made him give a blowjob to my lightsaber."

"What?"

"I said what I said. How long would it take for your men to mobilize?"

"A few minutes? Why?"

"We're leaving. I brought the MRAP. After that, we need to attack a group and gain more fighters."

I craned my neck and looked towards the ceiling. Beyond that roof were the stars, looking down at my scenario with expectancy. I decided to hype up the following events.

"Once we are done with that, we will attack a nearby Disaster."

"I see."

"But first, I need to record something."

"What are you going to record?"

"A diss track."

***

"So, we are going to attack Montlake Elementary School?"

"Yes."

At this point in time, Montlake Elementary School was one of the few schools that hadn't been taken over yet. Although, the problem was the distance. It was three miles away from Northwest School, so it should be simple. Alas, that was a convenience belonging to the old world. Right now, travelling such a distance may take thirty minutes to an hour: we had to avoid hordes of flare zombies as well as other monsters.

(Is the school even worth it?)

I sighed. The school had to be worth it. I needed to take over one station per day. Before I could attack major stations, such as high schools, I needed to gather appropriate forces. Those would be found at that educational center.

"Here we are."

The soldiers filed out of the MRAP. At the entrance was Edison Fran. The bodies in the parking lot were gone; I presumed others had moved them.

"Let's hold a briefing," I ordered. "Mr. Fran, your attendance is mandatory."

"Alright."

We filed into a room and sat down. Multiple maps on the wall were posted - there were pieces of paper that were printed.

"Are these google maps?"

"Yes," Mr. Fran answered. "Before the Dokkaebis' transmissions canceled the internet, we scrambled to print as many as possible. They are in color as well."

"Impressive."

I looked at one map and located the school. There was a note pinned next to it.

"Was your former king planning to attack it?"

"Yes. He made preparations," Rupert said.

"What type?"

"It will be better to show you," Mr. Fran said. "Please, enter."

The door opened. George, Rupert Williams, Edison Fran, and the other attendees looked in one direction. If they could see my face under my Helm of Darkness, they would see my sour expression.

Before my eyes was a man donning pure white armor made from Kruk-bone steel, in his hands was a Henry Repeating Rifle, and he carried a sizeable backpack full of supplies.

"This armor is modeled after military armor. Within the bullet-resistant fabric are steel plates, which are layered three times for the wearer's protection. We have tested this armor; it renders bullets and other projectiles ineffective," Mr. Fran explained.

"How many sets are there?"

"Over a dozen. Production has resumed, and I expect over a dozen more at the end of the month."

(We don't have time for that.)

"Will a dozen of these armored soldiers be sufficient for attacking this school?" I asked.

"Theoretically, yes. A small squad should be enough. Although, the status of the Montlake faction is unknown."

"We'll have to do recon before we invade," George said.

"Agreed. Although, it depends if we can get there," I stated. "I'm looking at this map, and there are three efficient ways. Two routes would take ten minutes, while one route would take seven minutes. It would be smart to choose the shortest path, but other factors can hinder our ETA."

"Hm, if we take these roads..." Edison Fran mumbled to himself as he traced his fingers against the map. "East Pine street, East John street, East Aloha street, and so forth - these would serve well. Sadly, there are sightings of fire-grade mantises lurking in those areas."

"Then we take the shortest route."

"Correct."

"Back to the armor. Are there any capable soldiers that can wear it?"

"There are."

"Good. Let us strategize further after this. First," I looked at the armor, "let us remodel its color scheme."

The white color, the helmet's design, and the KKK symbol on the shoulder were distasteful. I smiled under my helm. Necessary remodeling would commence.

"Is there any black and red dye?"

"There are."

"Bring me your Klan robes."

One soldier left and quickly came back. He laid one robe onto the table. I checked the item's stats and realized it was B-grade armor.

"If you wish, we may discontinue their production," Edison Fran said. "I also hated these robes."

"No, I believe the robes are fine."

"What?" Everyone said in unison.

"The robes themselves are fine. It is the white color and hood that bother me. Plus, it would be a waste of valuable fabric if we simply threw these away."

"So, you wish to rebrand the Klan faction?"

"Yes. Hm, how about this: dye the robes black. Instead of hoods, the new members shall wear masks. I will create a design shortly."

"What do you wish to call this new faction?"

I smiled and looked out the sky.

"It's a surprise."

***

"Aren't they beautiful, George?"

"Uh, I don't know about that. Sinister? Yep. Beautiful? That's debatable."

"I quite like it."

Dozens of soldiers wearing pure black armor filed into a city bus. Instead of a Confederate symbol on their shoulder plates, a red Japanese Kanji replaced it. It was a simple redesign, but I successfully erased the previous connotations. These uniforms were no longer a symbol of racism and baseless hate - it was more than that now. They symbolized something else: fear... and chaos.

"Moving out in five. Is the Gatling gun secured to the RAM truck?"

"It is," Mr. Fran answered.

We would take three vehicles to the invasion: a double-decker bus, the MRAP, and a pickup truck with a Gatling gun secured on top. We would visit a waystation: Lowell Elementary school. After that, we avoid Stevens Elementary school and the Seattle Hebrew School. Those areas are under the authority of Adler Santiago.

"Okay, boys, time to move out! We're shooting up a school!"

"Ethan, do you have to say it like that?"

"Yep, I'm saying it how it is!"

I hopped into the MRAP and led the procession. We drove onto East Pines street, took a left on 12th Avenue, and pushed ahead. The entire drive took less than ten minutes. We made it to the school, explained everything to the representative, and gathered an extra dozen soldiers.

"It's time to take the highway now."

We had to pave a way to I-5. The journey was sluggish; we had to occasionally exit our vehicles and move dormant obstacles: cars, powerlines, trees, etc. Flare zombies would try to attack the group, but I ordered them to stand down and depart. After an hour of commuting, we finally made it to our destination.

"Surround the school and create a perimeter. Set up the mortars."

"Roger."

I looked at the neighborhood. It was filled with private homes and well-manicured streets. If I had come before the Fall, this might've been a beautiful, vibrant area.

(Although, I would never need to come here.)

This area belonged to the middle class, the working dads, and the stay-at-home mothers. They received yearly salaries, worked regular jobs, and raised children in their abodes. They successfully provided and protected their offspring. Such a life didn't belong to me. I lived in a poor neighborhood, had a single parent, and lived off child support. I didn't fit into this place.

(Now, I've come to burn it all to the ground.)

I smiled at my pettiness. In a way, this was my revenge against the people who led better lives. I never felt jealous of these people, but I always wondered what it would've been like.

(It's pointless to think this.)

The luxury called normalcy was unattainable for me. That future was long dead; the future ahead would be filled with unprecedented suffering and anguish. Sadly, I would sometimes be the preparator of those tragedies.

I brought the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle radio to my mouth and asked, "Are the mortars in place?"

I received multiple "Rogers."

"The snipers?"

Further confirmations echoed through the radio. The soldiers were stationed correctly in backyards and abandoned houses. The MRAP would invade the school's playground by mowing down the wire fence. While that happened, soldiers would advance through the front entrance. I would be one of them. I peeked over the wooden fence and saw the duel stairwells leading to the entrance. Overlooking the stairwells were windows, and the faint silhouettes of people were seen.

-!Bzzt!-

"This is Burning Charcoal to Red Warrior, do you have a target in sight?"

-!Bzzt!-

"Yes."

-!Bzzt!-

"We attack in three... two... one!"

-!BANG!-

A deafening cacophony tore through the still atmosphere. The dark surroundings were illuminated from the flashes of bullets, followed by the subsequent screams of the wounded. In the far distance, I heard the roaring engine of a tank and the incessant torrent of a machine gun.

"All clear, sir. The roof snipers are neutralized."

I ignited my lightsaber.

-!Kkssshhh!-

A dozen soldiers adorned in ebony armor looked at me behind their expressionless helmets. I turned around and looked at the wood fence. Raising my hand, I blasted the barrier with flames.

"ADVANCE!!"

My squad shot forward, aiming for the entrance. We entered the school's blind spots; the steps and pathways were elevated, providing enough coverage. No traps were visible and nothing was triggered. Men and women covered our charge - in a backyard far behind us was a Gatling gun. It roared to life and peppered the school's front with lead - window panes fell to the ground as they shattered.

My soldiers lobbed smoke grenades, and our surroundings grew cloudy. We ascended the steps, diverged, and aimed for the entrances. One group attached a charge against the brick wall and detonated it, opening a third entrance point. Soon, the doors flew open, and Incarnations emerged.

-!Poh!-

I shot one man in the chest, and he fell to the ground. The distance grew shorter, and I eviscerated the opposition. The left-side entrance was taken. I entered the building, looked down a hallway, and saw a makeshift barricade.

"Fire!!"

People rose from their cover and shot at us, but I quickly dealt with them. I looked to my men and yelled, "Get down!" After that, I activated a grenade in my hand and chucked it.

-!Boom!-

We continued the attack, slowly making our way through the school. Our overwhelming firepower, plated armor, and tactics crushed the enemy. Soon, we approached the cafeteria. If I were correct, this would be the common area for the survivors.

"How very interesting..."

I saw men and women holding weapons, crowding around the elderly and the young. These people had no firearms, so they resorted to melee weapons. Most of the items they possessed were F to E-grade; only a few B-grade items were present.

Shortly after, soldiers streamed in, encircled them, and raised their rifles. Rupert Williams emerged from the ranks.

"Why are we aiming at the civilians? We can't hurt them."

Rupert was right. Civilian murders were a war crime and a violation of the Geneva Conventions. Alas, those were stipulations in the old world.

"Give me the king."

The people shuffled and moved, trying to escape the firing range of my soldiers' guns. They probably thought, "If I move farther into the center, I can be safer."

-!Kkssshh!-

"Give me the king. Or you shall die."

I slowly walked forward. The men holding cheap swords grew visibly sweaty.

"Wait!! Please!!"

A man holding a flag emerged from the crowd and kneeled in front of me. He presented his flag and bowed his head.

"Please. We surrender."

(Kill him.)

The dark voices within my head spoke out.

(Kill him....)

(Strike him down....)

I gripped my Crimson Mana Sword. With my left hand-

"Please!"

-I gently grabbed the flag by the handle. I merged the two items with the flag from my back, and the coloration morphed to a dark brown.

"Thank you."

I looked at the men, women, and children.

"We're abandoning this school. Take everyone."

"Yes, sir!"

The people were grabbed by the arms, ordered to proceed in a line, and marched to the school's exits.

-!Bzzt!-

"This is the king. What is the ETA for the buses?"

-!Bzzt!-

"We'll be there in less than ten minutes, sir."

"Good."

"Your Majesty, what will we do with these people?"

I looked at them.

"We'll conscript some of the men. We'll use the rest as workers and educate the children. Mr. Williams, how tired do you feel?"

"I could use some rest, sir."

"Well, my apologies. This is only the first operation of the day. Very soon, we'll fight a boss monster."

***

[Commercials are currently playing!]

[Constellations are patiently watching the midroll advertisements!]

"So, the attack was a success?" Mr. Fran asked.

We were finally back at Northwest School. Everyone from the previous meeting reconverged, and now it was time to take another course of action.

"It was," I said. "There were no casualties, only minor injuries. We were able to capture eighty-six civilians. Over half of them are capable men and women. The rest are the elderly and young, but we can still put them to use."

"What is the next step proceeding forward?"

"Disaster subjugation."

This is why I wanted this conversation to be incognito. It would be troublesome if the Constellations discovered the exclusive information I possessed for a Disaster - a creature that wasn't even introduced yet.

"If I may inquire, what is a Disaster?"

"In Star Stream's terms, they are a singular entity meant to bring destruction to a local area and cause numerous deaths. Disasters can kill hundreds, even thousands of people."

"So, it is safe to say these beings are extremely powerful?" Rupert Williams asked.

"Yes. If I were to summarize their existence, I would say they are the supervillains of the scenario."

"And you want us to fight one?"

"Correct. Mr. Fran, the fight is only possible if we have these weapons. Before we left, did you produce the ones I ordered?"

"They will still take time to complete. A few hours at best, a day at least. We'll have to see how their production proceeds."

"Okay," George said, "you said we have to fight this Disaster, but where is it located?"

"This Disaster is located along the Puget Sound. As of right now, it resides at Alki Beach in its premature form."

"Alki Beach? That's twelve miles away. It would take nearly thirty minutes to travel by car. Who knows how long it will take in these conditions," Rupert Williams stated.

"I have a method to circumvent these limitations."

"Oh? What is it?"

"This."

I placed a cardboard box on the table. Everyone here could see it.

"A Lego set?"

"Not just any Lego set, George. This is from the Toy Dungeon, where toys can convert into useable items."

I tapped the box. This Lego set was a bonus item I received when I killed the Toy Master.

"This item is no different."

The package displayed a picture of an interstellar ship - specifically, the AAL-1971/9.1 Troop Transport. It was also known as the First Order Transporter, which could ferry twenty soldiers at a time.

"This item is only useable for an hour. Afterwards, it will revert to a useless toy. I wish to use it as much as possible."

If the plan proceeded correctly, I would kill the Disaster of the East.

Chapter 66: Episode 10-Disaster of Lasers (5)

CREATORS' THOUGHTS
EnderGolem997

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Chapter 66: Episode 10-Disaster of Lasers (5)

CREATORS' THOUGHTS EnderGolem997

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CREATORS' THOUGHTS
EnderGolem997