Chapter 1

Einar grinned to himself as he looked around the room before his gaze settled on a mirror. The image staring back was one of a six foot man. Dark hair and a single scar on his forehead. It was his eyes that drew his attention. Blue-green, with a determined glint in them. He wasn't a large man and in his youth he had been bullied because he was so skinny. No one bullied him now, not since he had subjected himself to a brutal training regime in order to build up muscle. Even now he was slightly skinnier than most but none doubted the strength hidden. Never one for showing off he was dressed in simple military fatigues, the desert camouflage pattern showing. His sergeant symbol had been polished.

He had never felt like he belonged anywhere for his whole life until, at the age of sixteen, he had joined the army. He was hated and feared by all “normal” people, including his own family who constantly beat him and the army was only to happy to accept people like him. Here however, he was able to relax, not fear scared people trying to kill him. Here they were all in the same boat, or rather bunker as it were.

Einar had swiftly risen to command of the specialised unit in his five years since joining. His remarkable powers, as well as his tactical skill stood him apart from even his fellows. All of them manifested some kind of power, be it super speed, super strength, telekinesis, or the likes. Einar was unique in that he had the ability to create and control both fire and water. He rarely used these powers considering most operations they undertook were at a long range and it strained his willpower to maintain a fireball over a large distance. Instead he was armed with guns, like the other “elementals”.

The others were armed depending on what power they had. The “brutes” usually came with exceeding heavy equipment. Miniguns, recoiless rifles, weapons similar to that. They were the walking artillery, or heavy support, depending on the mission. The “windwalkers” were usually armed with blades, or other close combat weapons. They were also loved in every generals plans as they were able to do rescue mission, or sabotage missions with ease. Able to get in and out before anyone, other than another windwalker, was able to detect, let alone stop, them.

“Telekines” were generally armed with whatever they wanted, their power focusing on initial velocity of the object, rather than maintaining it. Much like throwing the object they had no control over it after it had left their mental hand. The more willpower a telekine had the larger the object they could control.

Einar grinned to himself again as he checked his weapons. An assault rifle and a pistol. Grenades were not needed as he was able to make use of his powers to better effect than a simple grenade.

This was not a mission they were gearing up for, this was all out war.

“Officer on deck!” someone announced. As one Einar's squad, and Einar himself, stood to attention.

“At Ease,” came the voice of the Lieutenant. He walked over to Einar, “Sergeant, I have just received word for you and your squad. You are to support the seventh armoured division. Protect them.”

“Of course sir,” Einar replied. “Permission to speak freely?” he asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, why are we here? I thought all warfare was taking place on the African continent.”
“A good question Sergeant. From what I have heard, our commanders were keeping us as a defence team, should the fighting spill over onto the main continent. It would seem they were correct, as it looks like the Panasian Alliance were hoping we would be defenceless while we entered battle in Africa. They have tried to sneak through the borders,” the Lieutenant replied, “be ready in for 0800. We mobilise then.”

With that he spun on his heels and left the room leaving Einar with yet more unanswered questions. Surely they PA would try to infiltrate but why had so many troops been stationed at this one point? How did they know this was where the battle would be?

Putting the questions to the back of his mind he then thought of more important ones. 0800? He had three hours. First and foremost he needed to find out what it was they were likely to be facing. That in mind he walked over to the communications specialist. “I need you to find out what elements of the PA army we are likely to be facing. Air support, ground troops, armoured. More importantly, if we are facing other Phates. The man winced at the last word. He was the only human in the room, everyone else was one of the Phates.

“Yes sir,” he replied and left the room, clearly relieved to be allowed to leave the presence of so many subhuman.

“Right lads, we are to be ready for battle at 0800. This gives you three hours to get ready. Do whatever you normally do before a mission, be that pray to whatever god you believe exists, crap yourself and cry in a corner, or sleep. Just be ready in three hours. Dismissed,” he announced before turning and going back to his seat. Putting his feet up on the desk he leaned back to wait for the communications specialist to return.

“Sir?” a voice asked after a while
“Yes?” Einar replied, seeing the comm officer
“I have managed to get some information regarding our opponent.”
“Spit it out then,” he ordered. The man winced again.
“Well, uh, firstly there are reports of around two hundred other soldiers and officers. One armoured division and one artillery. We also know there is an airbase not far from the border so they will have air support by 0900.”
Einar slammed his fist on the table, “what about other...Phates?” he asked. He, and all others, hated that word but everyone used it to describe them.
The comms man jumped back, seeing a flicker of fire between Einar's fingers. “Reports confirm there is another squad of them as well. Though how many, and what powers they have are as yet unknown.”
“Thank you,” Einar replied, leaning back in his chair, “you may go.”

The man almost ran on his way back to his corner of the room. A snigger followed him from the man now approaching the desk. A fairly unremarkable man, short hair, clean shaven. The kind of person that wouldn't stand out in a crowd. He seemed to have very few distinguishing features with one exception. The knives strapped all over his chest. Every single one had no handle, merely sharpened edges. No way of holding it.

“Now now Corporal, it isn't nice to laugh at others misfortune,” Einar said with a laugh
“Sorry Sarge,” he replied grinning.
“Were you wanting anything Haal?” Einar asked using his friends first name.
“Well, I just wanted to know your plans,” he replied taking a seat opposite Einar.

“Ah, Well,” Einar started. Then seeing a few others turn to face him he raised his voice, “you all heard the Lieutenant, we are to support the seventh armoured but I don't think those bastards really need our support. After all, if they want to suicidally charge the enemy why should we have to die with them?” he asked. Many looked worried at what Einar was saying but he quickly followed it up, “but then, where is the fun in that. We can't let them get all the glory can we?” with that a roar went up in the room, “so, we are going to stick beside them until we encounter the enemy, then we hunt our counterparts on the enemy side. After all, what fun is there in slaughtering regulars when we can take on proper opponents?” he asked, to once again be greeted with a roar. “Now you bloodthirsty maniacs, be ready in,” he looked at his watch, “half an hour. We mobilise.” 

Einar stood at the front of his unit. There were only ten of them but they were deemed all that was needed to protect the tanks. He looked across the lines of men and women standing ready for battle. There was a light mist, that clung to the ground giving the impression that everyone was floating.

"The wolves will feed well tonight," the commander of the 7th armoured, Melwin Romer, said.
"Indeed," Einar replied, "you planning on one of your famed charges, as if your tanks are cavalry of old?" he asked with a grin.
"Of course," Melwin replied, "unless your men can't keep up."
Einar held Melwin's gaze, "it is your tanks I am worried about keeping up, after all, they will likely draw all the fire and drop behind."
Melwin laughed, "We shall see, A bottle of my own private alcohol says we make contact with the enemy first," he held his hand out at the offer.
Einar took it, "I will hold you to that," he grinned.

Haal walked over.
"Intelligence says the enemy are starting the attack. The left flank has already been engaged and the centre are being shelled. We have been ordered to move out," he said.
"Thank you Haal," Einar said before turning back to Melwin, "shall we?" he asked
"Indeed," Melwin replied before turning and running to his tanks.
"Lads!" Einar shouted, turning to face his troops, "we fight!"

The nine men in front of Einar clapped their hands to their chests and finished the chant, "as one!"

Einar spun again, running across the field. They were deployed across from the enemy at a range of around one hundred meters, and Einar and his team, along with the tanks, had to make that distance under the fire of the enemy across.

Einar kept running but the amount of fire filling the air was incredible, the tanks were staying steady with them but many had been hit by anti-tank weapons and Einar's squad was taking a beating. He saw one of the windwalkers run up and slaughter his way through one of the anti tank teams. Einar grimaced as he saw the man's head explode in a cloud of pink mist. A sniper taking advantage of the fact that he had failed to remove his knife from the chest of the weapon operator in time. He heard one of the brutes on his team come down. There was a cheer on the enemy side of the field.

Haal appeared at his side, “we need to get in there, we can't take much more of a beating,” he said. Einar silently agreed with him, things were not looking good. His team were running full on so they didn't really have that good a chance to return fire. If they stopped they were in the middle of a field with no cover against an enemy that had plenty.

Ten meters and Einar saw one of the elementals take a sniper round to the chest. Nice girl, was all he could think about her at the time as she dropped to the ground.

One of the tanks drove remarkably close and Haal and Einar dived in behind it, using it as mobile cover. The communications officer tried the same but as he was running after them he took a round in the leg. Sent flying he then took another in the head and a third hit the comm kit he was carrying.

Einar slowed a bit and drew his rifle to eye level, letting off a single shot and was rewarded with a scream. There were only six of his team left and of the twenty tanks they were supporting only seven were left. Einar was pleased to see Melwin standing on one, presumably the command tank, shouting what he assumed to be obscenities at the enemy and brandishing a flimsy looking officers sword.

 Returning to the scene at hand Einar and Haal had made it to the enemy lines. He vaulted over a small wall and opened fire on the men and women behind it. Many collapsed as they were shredded by the bullets at close range but one managed to turn quick enough to snap a shot off. It went over Einar's shoulder but was so close he could feel it go past.

A knife came out of no where and hit the man in the throat. Einar nodded his thanks at Haal who lifted another knife from his jacket and launched it at another enemy. Haal was a telekine. The enemy clearly had no idea what to do when the log they had hastily used as cover against the new breach in their line was lifted by an unseen hand and dropped on their heads.

Haal and Einar pushed up, eager to see who was left in their squad. Einar passed by another corpse he recognised. Another telekine but this one was barely old enough to start shaving. War is hell, Einar thought. That meant there were only five at most left, including Haal and himself.

They ran along the line, searching for their comrades. Einar smiled when he saw the unmistakable bulk of the second brute that was assigned to him. She was wielding one of the enemies as a club, using him to swat aside the others that came at her. Einar and Haal managed to get in a position to kill few that were left trying to take her down.

“Good to see you,” Einar said, “The tanks are back there. I think they are pushing onto the artillery. Make sure they break through the lines then fall back here. We will regroup with you once we have found anyone that is left.”

“Right away,” she replied and dropped the man she was carrying before running after the tanks.

Einar and Haal ran on. This time they were not as lucky. The other two members of Einar's squad were dead. One was on the floor, a single bullet hole in his head and an ugly smoking crater in his chest. The other, another windwalker, was currently standing against a tree. A large icicle sticking out of her chest and pinning her to the tree behind, her blood turning the blue ice a deep red, a small trickle of it running down her chest and dripping onto the floor into a small red puddle. A look of intense pain had etched itself onto her face.

“No,” Haal muttered, stumbling into the area himself. Einar recalled Haal and the girl being really friendly, probably more than they should have but Einar had never got round to asking Haal about it. He glanced a man with dyed white hair walking away from them. Haal spotted him too.

“Damn you!” he shouted, standing up and running at the man before Einar could stop him. He sent at least three knives flying through the air at the man. He just turned, lifting one hand, and created a small barrier of ice in the way of the three knives. With the other hand he sent a lightning bolt arcing towards Haal.

“Haal!” Einar started but he was not able to do anything but watch in horror as the lightning impacted dead centre of Haal's chest. He was thrown a good meter or so back and Einar knew his friend was dead.

“Do you want to end up like your friends?” the man asked, “otherwise I suggest you leave. I have my orders, and you are not part of them.”

“You made me part of them when you slaughtered my team,” Einar replied drawing his gun up to snap a shot off. The gun clicked empty.

“You are going to kill me with an empty weapon?” the man asked.

Einar replied by sending a fireball towards him. A flash of annoyance appeared on the man's face as he created an icicle to counter the fireball. A flash of steam separated them for a second and when it was gone Einar saw a bolt of lightning come flashing towards him. “Damn,” he thought, “I will not go like Haal.”

A fountain of water appeared from the ground intercepting the electricity and grounding it. All this was over in a matter of second.

“So, you are also a Xenomphate,” he said to Einar, “I wondered how long it would be until I encountered another. We could sit here all day countering each other, to which neither would gain the upper hand, so what do you say we do a real test. Hand to hand, no powers, and no weapons other than your fists?”

“Fine, but first, let me know your name,” Einar replied.

“Very well, I am Shiro Fuyu. In your tongue that is White Winter,” Shiro replied.

How apt, Einar thought. “I am Einar,” he replied, “I gave up my family name when I realised I didn't have a family. Now enough chat,” he snarled, and launched into an attack.

Einar had learned a unique art of fighting. He relied mostly on counter attacks, and always struck his opponent with the tips of his fingers, his hand open. He had also learned where the weak points in the human body was, and aimed for them with every attack, using his counters to open his opponent up.

Shiro was good, probably as good as Einar, and managed to block. “You are faster than you look,” he muttered sending his own attack aimed at Einar's head. Einar stepped back and Shiro's fist flashed past his face. “As are you,” Einar returned. They both took a step back and started circling around.

There was a faint whistling sound in the air and they both stopped and looked up. “Oh shit,” Einar mumbled. What he saw chilled him to the bone. There were ten missiles heading towards the battlefield. Five from each border zone.

“ICBM's,” Shiro muttered, “they have betrayed us all.”

By they Einar realised he meant both governments.

“But why?” was all Einar was able to say before they hit. The shock wave of missiles hit them first, and sent them flying backwards before a fireball washed over them.