DEATH SQUAD

LEON

The only illumination was blood red torchlight. The desert winds were harsh and ever present. Uneven stones layered the ground, asymmetrical and half buried in the sand. Only vague figures of Leon's brothers in arms, as well as a lone robed priest standing above the crowd could be seen. Even the superhuman vision of a Darktrooper had difficulty piercing such a powerful gloom as that of nighttime in the Abyss, so Leon was forced to navigate by the light of the torches stuck into the ground on poles, as well as the occasional lightning strike which momentarily illuminated the area. The ritualistic Demonochemical psychotropes being forcibly injected into his spine didn't help too much either. His head was flooded with throbbing pain as whoever was behind him emptied the needle into his backbone and shoved him forward to fulfill his morbid destiny.

"We are gathered here tonight..."

The voice of the priest was warped and Leon could hardly make out the words as he stumbled through the dark. Occasionally he would feel a hand on his shoulder, redirecting him towards where he was expected.

"...to commemorate and honour one of our own..."

The voice as well as the robed figure attached to it became clearer as he approached.

"...as he is ELEVATED! IN HOLY BLOOD! BY WE, HIS BROTHERS!"

A resounding chorus of cheers from fellow Darktroopers observing the ritual assailed his ringing ears. At long last he reached a stone platform, and was beckoned by the priest to ascend. He did so, only faltering a few times on the cracked ground. He removed the straps on his helmet and absently dropped it next to him as he followed the priest. He did the same with the satchel slung around his back. Abruptly and without warning the priest grabbed onto his shoulder tightly.

"Brother Leon, you are here to be anointed in the name of Machina, in the name of the Pit, and in the name of the Carnifex!"

Leon was barely paying attention. He was desperately trying to recall the details of anything that had transpired in the past several days. He could not remember a thing. Why was he here? What happened? Where was his squad? Were they in the crowd? Any time he even tried to think too hard on it, a shooting headache would disrupt his concentration. He had no idea what was going on or where he was, only a vague memory of being given a promotion to the position of Alpha.

"Do you, with all your fellow sons of Caine as your witnesses, pledge your ETERNAL SOUL to us?"

"Y-yes."

Leon found himself answering without thinking about it. It was reflexive, like blinking. He simply said yes automatically.

"Do you pledge to fight, to kill, and to die in the Big War?"

Those last two words, "big war," triggered a latent hypnotic suggestion ingrained in the minds of all Darktroopers from birth. His surrounding brothers in arms repeated the phrase as adrenaline flooded their systems.

"BIIIIIIG WAAAAR..." They droned. "BIIIIIIG WAAAAR..."

"Yes." Again, the answer was not one he consciously came to, it simply happened. Leon panicked internally. He barely knew where he was much less what he was agreeing to.

"And lastly, most importantly of all, as a newly ascended Alpha, do you pledge to lead your brothers into battle wherever that may take you? Unto fire? UNTO DEATH?"

Leon swallowed, and tried to choke out a question, but something else came out of his mouth.

"Yes."

"BRING FORTH THE SACRIFICE!"

Leon's subconscious mind was wholly aware of the fact that he was being forced to perform these actions. This was no voluntary ritual, none at all. This was slavery. Mind control. Fear washed over him, and he struggled with every fiber of his being against what was happening. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to lay down and die. Anything except what was about to transpire, but he couldn't. He could barely move. All he could do was watch, and partake in the foul ritual against his will. He know knew why Jackals like him were drugged before being inducted as Alphas.