Phoenix: The Fate of the World

S1: Chapter 3: Phoenix Rising

2150, June 18, 6:00AM Central European Frontlines 

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The sun was barely rising over the Central Region of Old Europe, casting long shadows across the vulnerable, barely manned Coalition frontlines. The imperious flags of the Silverclaw Imperium fluttered in the wind as their columns advanced, nearly unopposed. The Coalition's forces were stretched too thin, retreating in disarray from the relentless push of the Imperium.

In the middle of this advance, Commander Thalrik IronStrike, an anthro Maned wolf known for his unwavering loyalty to the Imperium and his fanaticism, stood tall on the ridge. His cold, crimson eyes scanned the broken Coalition defenses with satisfaction. Behind him, his soldiers—thousands strong—waited in disciplined ranks, armored in the black and silver of the Imperium.

Thalrik raised his hand, signaling his troops to halt, and turned to face them, his voice booming over the ranks.

"Brothers! Sisters! Warriors of the Imperium!" he bellowed, his voice laced with the confidence of an unstoppable conqueror. "We have swept through their weak defenses like fire through dry grass! The Coalition cowers before us. Their so-called alliance is shattered. And now, Velzburg—the heart of their pathetic union—lies within our grasp!"

The soldiers cheered, weapons raised high, their chants echoing through the hills.

Thalrik continued, his eyes gleaming with fervor. "Velzburg is ours for the taking! With its fall, we will break the spirit of Old Europe and show them the true might of the Imperium. And as for the Aurelians?" He spat the name with contempt, causing ripples of laughter to break out among his soldiers.

"These so-called protectors... these unnatural creations they call superhumans. They are an insult to the divine order! Unholy creatures born from man's hubris! We will crush them beneath our boots, as we take not just Old Europe, but Altoris, and then the world!"

The soldiers erupted into deafening chants of, "Glory to the Imperium! Glory to the Silverclaw!"

Thalrik turned, feeling the fire of their conviction fill him with confidence. He knew they had pushed far ahead of the Coalition's weakened lines. His forces had overextended, but the Coalition was on the verge of collapse—what could possibly stop them?

With a snarl, he raised his sword, signaling the advance toward Velzburg. The soldiers surged forward, eager for battle, blind to the dangers of their own arrogance.

As the Imperium's forces pushed over the next ridge, their pace quickened, excitement bubbling in the ranks. But something in the distance made Thalrik pause. At first, he saw a few figures cresting the hill ahead—Aurelian soldiers, standing calmly in the early morning light. They were few, seemingly just a small battalion, perhaps an advance scouting party.

The Silverclaw troops laughed and jeered, convinced these few Aurelians were no match for their numbers.

But as they continued forward, more figures appeared. First dozens. Then hundreds. Superhuman soldiers clad in the Silver and Blue Power armor of the 2nd Sentinel Guard Legion—the Freeblade Knights.

Thalrik's grin faltered slightly as he observed their steely discipline, but he maintained his bravado. "Look at them!" he shouted to his troops. "A handful of fools who dare stand before the might of the Imperium!

Then, a low rumble shook the ground beneath their feet.

Thalrik's heart skipped a beat as he watched the ground behind the hill darken with movement. Tanks—massive M5A2 Vanguard 2 Main Battle Tanks rolled over the ridge, their guns gleaming in the sun. Flanking them were the distinctive shapes of M4A4 Grizzly APCs, loaded with Sentinel Guards and Rifle infantry, their sharp Aurelian banners fluttering proudly.