Army of the Damned

VOLUME 3 Chapter 8

As the morning sun rested upon Woodstock, its gleaming skyscrapers made out of glass and steel refracted its rays into the great horizon. Planes and helicopters were already out and about, circling high above the skies as ships disappeared into the coastal mountainside, towards the Container port that sat far from the city. Airhorns from the large railyard in the center signalled the beginning of operations as factory bells rang and the exhaust pipes began throwing out smoke to the sky and morning traffic filled the streets.

"Good Morning Woodstock! Today's the Second Round of Meetings between our beloved Guilds! Be sure to learn of closed streets and highways later after this quick weather announcement and boy do I tell you! The Mage boys with their fancy enchanted doohickies have said that it's going to be a clear and clean day till light precipitation in the afternoon!"

Exiting their hotel, Jackson was once again in his General uniform, though he wore a coat over it, hiding most of his medals and ribbons, it did little to block its infamous olive color. The Countess was back in her old red gown and Bahamut, still groggly kept in the man's pockets. "Alana, did I ever tell you what was said in the Conference Building since it looked like they were very vague in the news?"

While on the sidewalk, thousands of skeleton soldiers fully decked out military gear are marching in formation on the main street, the citizens residing in the city are cheering as their lifeless warriors march to the front. "No, M'Lord, you have not." He breathes out, shaking his head as he hails for a cab and as they wait, he begins explaining everything that transpired in the UN meeting. "And so yeah... multiplying war robots plus a running Mana Core... it's... extremely bad. Alana grabs Jackson's arm and stops him from walking.

"So you're telling me M'Lord, there's war machines out there capable of eating anything and breeding to create more of themselves?!" He nods, the commotion between the two waking up Bahamut. "Yes, and we must stop them before reaching Critical Mass. Their old stuff that's decommissioned on Earth, with the files on how to build them released, wasn't long till Full Dive players were able to replicate them." Bahamut tilts her head as she crawls up on him.

"Critical mass?" One of the cabs then notices him and begins to turn its wheel to the curb in front of them. "It means the point where we can no longer control or contain their numbers. Right now, thanks to the survivors of the Kingdom of Nebesa, we managed to act before the Robotic Horde reached a level on which we cannot stop it." Alana facepalms upon hearing all of this and the orange taxi stops beside them. "I know, there's even some who said that this might be an attempt to disrupt the meetings."

"Then I'm guessing we'll be busy all night?" With a heavy heart, he nods his head at her. "We'll have to go to 8-Gon and start planning and organizing an invasion force. The officer guy from Woodstock said they'll be giving me an office there." Opening the door for her, she heads inside as he gets in the front, beside the driver who was listening in on the radio. "Today's Conference on the Hall of Minerva is expected to be about the Economy and Trade. With the largest Craft Guild Leaders to the most smallest, the unifying currency of us Earthlings will soon be decide-"

"To the 8-Gon please and turn down the radio." The Dwarven player behind the wheel just gave him a look as his small stubby hands twisted the knob. "A'ight, but'ya gotta expect delays. Supposed to only be Ten minutes, aye. But traffic's twisted up more than the Great Halls! I wouldn't blame ya if ya wanted to walk halfway through!" he just gestures with his hand as they enter the busy lane.

"Yes, M'Lord, why can't we just walk? You look healthy enough." With his head resting on the front passenger side window, the Countess could see his shoulder stiffen and relax. "When it's going to be a day of office work, I want to be in a meditative state when I begin."

As foretold by their bearded ginger driver, the trip to the 8-Gon took far longer than expected. 30 minutes later, they reached its front fence gate where they had to be given a full X-Ray preceded by a Mage performing a detect magic on them. Walking in the heavily fenced and guarded parking lot, the massive concrete pillars that held up the balcony of the overwhelming structure dawned on them. On its center, the seal of the Men of the Wood's Military. The Armed Pine Tree.