At 2 p.m., the Pacific Fleet anchored 20 nautical miles off the Bay Area coast. General Frank Hammer, the commanding officer, was on board.
Hammer turned to his aide. "Any word from Roy Black?"
"General, we've sent Ms. Jay to contact him. We should hear back soon."
Hammer nodded. Another subordinate approached with an update. "General, the Vanguard and Marine Corps are ready to move out."
"Good. I want to meet these fine young men."
Hammer boarded another warship, where 120 soldiers—half Marine Corps, half FEAR—stood in neat formation, divided into four squads. Looking at their young faces, Hammer felt a pang of sorrow. This mission was a death sentence for many, and he wasn't sure how many would return.
"General, they're ready. Say a few words," his aide prompted.
Hammer paused, then spoke gravely. "Kids, I'm going to be straight with you. This mission is so dangerous, many of you might not come back. Are you ready for that?"
The 120 soldiers exchanged stunned glances. No one had ever been so blunt about their odds of survival.
"This mission is beyond dangerous—it's a threat the Pentagon can't even fully assess. Your enemies might be incomprehensible supernatural forces that will torment you physically and mentally, shattering your faith."
In this era, most enlistees were religious, not like two decades later when motives for joining might be less conventional. Hammer's words hit hard, and the deck fell silent. Some soldiers wavered visibly.
Hammer took a deep breath and continued, his voice resolute. "If I were thirty years younger, I'd be fighting alongside you. But I'm too old for that now, so this burden falls to you. For this country, some things must be done. Do you understand?
"I promise you this: whether you complete the mission or not, we won't let you bleed and cry in vain. Please, do everything you can to succeed."
Hammer's sincerity reignited the soldiers' resolve. These were handpicked warriors, mentally prepared for death. The Marine Corps and FEAR were high-risk units, often tasked with near-suicidal missions. Hammer's honesty moved them deeply.
"General Hammer, we'll complete the mission!" one shouted.
"God bless America!" another called.
"God bless America!" the 120 echoed in unison.
With their rallying cries, the soldiers boarded transport ships—not helicopters. The Armacham Research Facility was a black box; even military satellites couldn't penetrate the intense electromagnetic interference blanketing the area. The U.S. military had no intel on what awaited. Helicopters were too risky—one crash could wipe out everyone. Ships were safer.
From the deck, Hammer watched the transport ships fade into the distance, his expression heavy.
His aide approached, worried. "General, your speech might not sit well with the Pentagon."
Hammer spun, glaring. "What's that supposed to mean? Was anything I said wrong? What's the Pentagon's problem?"
The aide opened his mouth but hesitated. The issue wasn't whether Hammer was wrong—it was that he was too normal. In a sea of abnormality, his straightforwardness made him an outlier. His colleagues shunned him for it, which was why he'd been sent to the Bay Area to take the fall.
Hammer was willing to bear that burden. Some things were better done by him than the incompetent. But he'd underestimated just how low some people could stoop. Humanity's potential was boundless, but so was its depravity. You could never predict what the truly vile would do unless you were one of them.
The aide sighed, knowing he couldn't sway Hammer. He'd followed the general because of his integrity. "Just be prepared, sir."
Hammer's gaze fixed on the Armacham facility, the transport ships now out of sight. "I'm always prepared."
---
Meanwhile, Roy had found an old yacht. Its electronics were fried, but the engine still worked. For him and Adrian, who only needed to hug the coast, that was enough.
Adrian offered to drive, but after he'd already wrecked one boat, Roy wasn't taking chances. He'd rather let Claria steer than risk Adrian sinking them and wasting time.
Halfway there, Roy's satellite phone rang.
"Hello, this is Roy Black."
"Roy, it's Jay!"
Roy hadn't expected a call from Ms. Jay. Since their time on Fog Island, they rarely spoke—maybe once or twice a month, and even then, it was brief. Her work with Naval Intelligence was sensitive, limiting what she could say over the phone.
"Roy, I'm heading to the Armacham Research Facility. I'll signal you from the shore so we can meet up."
"Jay, you're going to Armacham too?" Roy's brow furrowed. He didn't want her involved—the facility was too unpredictable, and this mission wasn't for ordinary people.
"It's not just me. The Marine Corps and FEAR are deploying too. I'm assigned to link up with you."
"What? Jay, stop them! The Armacham facility is too dangerous for regular people!"
Jay paused before replying. "I'll contact General Hammer right away. I'll call you back."
Minutes later, she did. "Roy, bad news. The Marines and FEAR have already landed on the island. There's a signal blackout—no way to reach them."
There was nothing they could do.
"Jay, don't move yet. Wait for me."
"Got it. I'm at the head of the cross-sea bridge outside the Armacham facility, waiting for you."
"Alright."
Roy hung up, and Adrian asked, "What's going on?"
"The feds sent people to Armacham. I just hope it doesn't end badly."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "The government's that cocky?"
Roy nodded grimly. "Ever since this country became the sole superpower, it's been drunk on its own confidence."
"Overconfidence is just arrogance," Adrian said.
Roy agreed, steering the yacht toward the cross-sea bridge.
An hour later, they docked beneath it. There was no pier, but the distance was no issue for Roy and Adrian.
"Roy!" Jay called, rushing to give him a hug so tight it was like she wanted to melt into him. Her embrace spoke volumes about how much she'd missed him.
Though the bridge was remote and likely free of radiation, Jay wore a full protective suit and carried a Geiger counter.
"Jay, what's the situation?" Roy asked.
After expressing her feelings, Jay snapped back to business. "I just spotted guards at the facility's entrance through military binoculars."
"Let me see."
The bridge spanned over ten kilometers, too far for even Roy's enhanced vision. Through the advanced binoculars, he confirmed armed guards in Black Mountain Military Company uniforms at the entrance. But unlike Jay, he noticed details: their faces were stiff, as if they'd just gotten terrible news, and their eyes glowed orange.
"Adrian, something's off with those guards. Their eyes are orange."
"Let me take a look." Adrian peered through the binoculars and nodded. "Definitely the work of the Famine Knight. The source of this mess is in that facility."
"Should we storm in?" Roy asked.
The Black Mountain mercenaries were clearly under some kind of control—possibly dead already. A frontal assault might alert whoever was behind this.
"Maybe I can try purifying the evil energy in them," Adrian suggested.
That wasn't much different from storming in, though. Just then, Jay, still watching through the binoculars, noticed movement. "Look! The guards are moving!"
Roy took the binoculars. The mercenaries were indeed leaving their posts.
Jay had a theory. "Could the Marines and FEAR be attacking?"
It was plausible. Though Roy didn't want more innocents involved, an assault could be creating a distraction.
"Maybe. We should move."
It was a perfect opportunity. Roy, with Jay on Claria, sped across the bridge, while Adrian sprouted wings and flew alongside. Jay was startled by Adrian's wings—only top brass knew about Raphael, unlike Elise, whose deep FEA involvement made her a known figure to both the agency and military.
They crossed the bridge and reached the Armacham Research Facility. As they passed the checkpoint, Roy felt like he'd crossed an invisible membrane, as if the facility existed in a separate world.
"What was that?" Roy asked, glancing at Adrian, whose face was grim.
"It's a domain—a massive one covering the entire facility. This kind of power…"
They'd known the mastermind was strong, but this was staggering. The facility's interior was bathed in an orange glow, just like Roy's earlier hallucination.
"Roy, I feel… oppressed," Jay said, her breathing quickening, her condition deteriorating. Roy quickly steadied her.
"What's happening? Adrian, can you tell what kind of domain this is?"
"Not sure, but it's definitely eating away at our minds."
Adrian strummed his guitar, and Jay immediately felt better, her breathing steadying. "Alright, let's keep moving."
The Armacham facility was massive, spanning dozens of square kilometers—larger than some towns—with countless buildings. Fortunately, Jay had a map on her military terminal.
"We're in the administrative district, where staff offices are. There might be intel here. Should we check it out?" she suggested.
Roy hesitated. "Is the lab in the center?"
"Yes. It's Armacham's largest lab, covering 100,000 square meters—their most valuable asset."
"Jay, do you know where the Marines and FEAR landed?"
She pointed to the map. "Here, the dormitory district. It's flatter, with a beach—perfect for a landing."
Roy thought it over and decided. "Let's head to the dorms and link up with them first, then plan our next move."
Adrian nodded approvingly.
As they neared the dormitory district, they heard intense gunfire. Jay was right—the Marines and FEAR had landed there.
"Let's go!" Roy drew the Leviathan Axe, ready to fight, when his vision suddenly blurred.
(Note: Ms. Jay, the actress, also played Mockingbird in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)