Strife: A Red vs Blue Fan Fiction

It All Falls

November, 7th, 2541

Armistice, New Republic, Earth

13:07

...

Chaos.

Thats the only thing I could see. People running, police and marines alike directing us, the civilians, away. Towards the aircrafts that would get us away from the chaos. The horde of people were pushing each other out of the way, like a scared stampede.

I was lost, seperated from my family, and my friends. I was alone, surrounded by strangers who could care less about me, about who I was. They were only concerned with themselves, with their lives. They wanted out, away from this city. Armistice, they called it.

Yet, one side of this war decided not to agree with the truce.

The Innsurrectionists, the Rebels, attacked. They gave no warning whatsoever. No one was expecting the attack, not even the marine outpost just miles outside city limits were aware of the incoming attack. We were all relaxed, giving the Rebels the perfect to attack, to prove to UNSC that they were worth considering, worth fighting.

They wanted the UNSC out of control. And they were going to make UNSC back off, one way... or another.

I remember hearing stories of how the attacks started off small, localized. Not much of a threat, and the UNSC dealt with them easily, supposedly wiping off all traces of rebellion, of uprising in the communities. But, soon, the attacks started growing, the number of rebels growing daily.

The UNSC couldn't just ingore them, couldn't just brush it off as small, local rebellions. The rebellion spread across the planets, continually growing.

They had to make their mark in history, they had to make UNSC notice who they were, what their goals -what their intentions- were.

Then the bombings struck.

Some killed ten to fifteen people.

Some killed thousands, millions.

The UNSC noticed them then. The public, the civilians -the ones who had no place in the war- were dragged into it. They were injured, killed. Many did not even know what hit them, they didn't know an attack was coming. They didn't know the threat of being attacked was so soon.

How would they?

That's what happened here, in Armistice. The bombs went off in the central square, then, almost like a chain reaction, all across the city in various sections. So many died... so many got injured.

I heard the roar of a plane's engine fly over head. I looked up, barely catching the jet stream that trailed after it, a single streak in the sky.

Please don't let anything happen to it... I pleaded to myself, as if that would stop the Rebels from shooting it down. They're still human, right? They still have a heart? Would they shoot it down, like the countless other times they have done that same act of violence?

I could see the planes up ahead, the innumerable number of people rushing inside, pushing others out of the way like they were better, higher up than the others. Isn't there some sort of saying that goes with that...? "All men are equal in war," or something like that?

I saw them, my parents, boarding one of the aircrafts. "Mom! Dad!" I called, pushing my way through the throng of people. I knew they couldn't hear me over all the noise, I just had to try. I had to try and get their attention.

But, it was already to late.

I saw my mom give one final look over the crowd, probably searching for me, before a marine ushered her inside, the door sealing behind her.