UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, NEW YORK, THE BRONX, DECEMBER 13TH, 2025
Darkness consumed the city skyline, leaving blown out lamps, and flickering traffic lights of red hues to fill the empty streets.
Dominion, laced with spot lights and the artificial off lights that shined the fort, made Dominion seem like star in the night sky or a spreading cancer.
Inside Dominion, a fortress guarded by metal walls and watch towers, composites of machinery, tens of thousands of Imperium soldiers and armored patrols that roamed around its perimeter, stood General Ivy.
Amidst the backdrop of shouting orders and the black sky, the turning of gears from 60-ton war machines, or the rotary blades from helicopters lifting and landing, the base being highly active even through the dark early hours.
The conjoined sounds managed to ooze their way through the nooks and crannies and into the pristine office space of Ivy; they became nothing more than a gargantuan of drowned-out sounds.
With arms folded, hands behind her back, feet partially spread, the black leopard almost radiant, tempestuous purple eyes-- locked with the large screen that stood before her.
Displayed on it were 5 figures, each separated by panels that conjoined to form a single screen.
First, there was a man in military attire similar to General Ivy's, his long spotted neck of gold and brown went far past the field of view of the camera, leaving his chopped neck and torso the main center of attention.
The second and third were complete copy-and-paste versions of each other, pure white felines with massive blue eyes and pure black iris; they took the center of the screen and wore more questionable military uniforms; they looked more like royalty than soldiers, wearing gold and red robes.
While the last two were canines in classical navy blue officer attire.
The canine on the end of the screen brought his fist to his mouth and coughed, General Ivy's turning her gaze towards the brown canine.
This anthro, in particular, was the Commander of the Imperium's North Atlantic fleet, Commander Urklin. He had been hailed as a prominent leader, praised for choking the UK out of the war by using his formidable naval blockades to starve the small Island into surrender.
"The humans have been more than a nuisance for my strike groups in the Atlantic; with the launching of their new fleets, I've already lost 12 destroyers, 21 cruisers, 7 frigates, 3 submarines, and 1 aircraft carrier; I have called for the remnants of my forces to return to Europe for repairs and to hunker down until the Imperium industrial sector can replenish these losses."
Urklin said, General Ivy's brow twitched at his words, and a deep hole began to form in her stomach.
"Withdrawl from the Atlantic, Commander? Without protection from your vessels, my rear would be-- exposed to seaborn attacks, without coverage from your planes, the humans would be free to put their new bombers to use, and the supply chain would be at risk-- you cannot withdraw."
General Ivy stated firmly-- her forces would be squeezed from two directions, both land and sea, being caught between a rock and a hard place.
Urklin looked at General Ivy, his eyes flowing from head to toe of the black leopard, a light smirk breaking on his face before he responded, his voice etched with snark.
"I'm well aware of you're concern General, and of the importance that the Fort Dominion base serves towards the war effort-- however, I simply cannot let my remaining forces stay in America; their capability has been more than halved, they would serve as cannon fodder, it would simply be a waste of time and personal to have them stay."
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FREEDOM HAS A VOICE
ActionEveryone always thought that the war would stay far from home, that our mighty, navy, air force, and army would keep them far away, the war was just one of the many things where watched from our phones thousands of miles away of where we heard of th...
