The Bellators

1:10:4

 Again and again. Stronghold after stronghold. Deep in a far rainforest, the blue pond sits with tranquility surrounded by a horizon of trees made of rich bark and thick leaves. Music of birds chirping play from the many trees, a rainforest beaming with life without a single concern.

Distant from the pond resides a fortress, its body the same shade of green as the leaves, silently resting without harming the gentle peace of the land. The fortress is partially covered by the series of trees between it and the pond, although two guard towers can be seen from the pond as well as a sliver of the barracks.

While the birds chirp calmly, a light flashes briefly over the fortress, followed by a boom that causes ripples in the water. Several orange orbs of flames appear over the fortress now, expanding as barely audible screams are quickly sunk by a shockwave that passes through the pond, rustling the leaves violently and leaving more ripples in the water. Following the rustling, birds begin rapidly flying off of branches, escaping from the chaos, causing more leaves to rustle as they take to the skies.

Another silver fortress sits on a piece of grassland, although the land is not much larger than the fortress itself as instead it's a rather petite island, which rests on a stone pedestal over the black night sea. A fierce storm bellows over the forest, as it's not a calm night, but one with heavy rainfall and flashes of light followed by harsh thunder.

Tides lash around the island, although far too low to reach the fortress, which has guard towers by the edge and the barracks strip besides the core facility. It is a restless night, and one that was about to become far more grueling as another light flashes, although this one situated above the fortress, minor and concentrated with a blue hue.

Down on the ground, a horde of guards dressed in the black jumpsuits and orange branches look up at the figure hovering over their base. They bring their hands up over their eyes to get a better view of what exactly has trespassed, with one of them specifically being an aged man with a scar on his cheek.

It isn't clear what exactly is up there, but there's a piercing sense of anxiety beaming from the figure, as the man understands that whatever it is, it's dangerous. The man bellows with a roaring voice, "FIRE!"

All at once, a multitude of guards raise their hands up towards the figure, some of them roaring in response. Lights begin flashing amongst the crowd, and suddenly a flurry of objects are hurtled from the guards at the figure. Balls of pure flame, concentrated beams of ice, wooden logs, and other random projectiles soar up all at one single target.

As the barrage approaches the figure, whose arms are crossed over its chest, it thrashes its arms out, releasing another black sphere. As the orb grows and consumes, concealing the figure within, all the projectiles are swept into the nothingness.

Standing on the ground, all of the guards stand in place, not given enough time to react. Amongst the ground, the scarred man stands, his right arm raised with an open wound in his palm, with a stream of blood soaring out of his hand and up towards where the figure stood, illuminating supernaturally.

Ultimately the resistance is futile, as the wave devours the surrounding guards, including the scarred man who did his best to save his comrades.

Set in a far remote region, a group of individuals dressed in a variation of the fiber woven suit, albeit this one green with the veiny texture of leaves, runs down a silver metal hallway, their clanky footsteps echoing down the hall. For each of them, one of their hands carries a firearm in the same manner as their desert comrades, although all of these firearms are shorter and slimmer, appropriate for the close quarters environment. In the distance up ahead is a collection of shouting and the pinched whooshes of blasterfire, which the group is running right towards.