Red+Sun,+Black+Sky

__**Prologue**__ The man was in the tower of a church, staring over a broken battlefield. Suddenly a column of black smoke spurted out from no man's land. A large shell from the opposing side flew through the air with a cry, a Hammer of Drago came arcing over the city and crashed into the church. The force was immense, as the old building which used to be a paradise of hope exploded in violent flame. The tower buckled and the man knew he had to dive out. He fell like a lead weight, as humans have not yet mastered the art of flying as gracefully as a eagle. He spun to his left side, keeping his gun over his right shoulder and smashed through the corrugated iron roof of a old storehouse. He was cut, but not badly, the damage was only superficial, he rubbed down his clothes and scrambled to his feet. The door was locked, using the butt of his gun he broke open the lock. He peered outside only to have a hail of bullets greet him, he was lucky however and they impacted on the wall. The man scampered off. The man was running. He was tall, well built and carrying his gun over his right shoulder. He was wearing military camouflage and had the kind of brown hair that was stained by years of fighting in mud, dust and blood. He wore a type of grey face paint, called splitter, that gave him protection in this city, at least it distorted his facial features. He had crisp blue eyes that could pierce the soul of any man who dared came across his path, be they friend or foe, this man cared not. The area was black, dark in the cold harsh night with only the company of the wind, howling as if in pain, the pain of a being that has been betrayed. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get away. This was Hamburg, year 2036. The man was only 16, and he was running for his life. He panted and spun around on his back foot, firing several shots behind him in a wave, in some attempt to slow the people chasing him down. He came to an alleyway and ducked into it. The men ran past him as he ducked behind a small alcove on the alley's left hand side. He lay against the wall. “Come in, anybody.” He whispered down his radio, praying that someone would answer him. Only screaming answered his calls, until someone finally answered him, it was a man called Charles whom he had met in the training camps at London. “ It's all gone FUBAR buddy, get outta there.” “ What happened?!” He screamed trying to nullify the large amounts of gunfire. “ We've been betrayed, someone led the Americans over the trench. We think it was the area commander Joshua Pierce.” “ Him? I know him, he was always a slight scum bag couldn't stand the look of him, he was like a rat. Where we headed then? Do we have a backup plan?” Deckland answered. “ Hamburg Docks, we are getting evacuated, that's the only back up plan we got left now.” Charles spoke again a tone of worry was in his normally calm voice. Deckland pulled away from the wall and looked around, he moved towards the end of the alleyway. An American saw him, slowly the young man approached the other man, he wasn't very tall, and appeared to be very scraggly, he was holding a pistol in one hand and his other held a long blade, like that of a commander. This American was in fact the traitor. Joshua Pierce. “ I can't belive it.” The boy spoke to him. “ If only you knew what the American's offered you would too, the promise of glory that I can have, it's great, almost breath taking.” “ Only a scum bag like yourself would stoop that low, betraying your men like, men who would have died and have died for you and your war!” “ A necessary loss, my friend.” Joshua came at him, using his sabre well, as if it was a part of his arm. It was long, black and had a serrated blade running down its full length. The young man didn't have a sword like this, he was in the army too, but the sabre was only given to officers. He had to use his gun, Susie, to defend the blows. The young man was quite quick and managed to jam the sabre and twist it off, sending it flying off to one side, but as he did this Joshua shot him. Round after round entered his open stomach and lower body, he slumped to the floor. Appearing to almost be dead, Joshua left before he could be caught by rear guard of the retreating army. But the Boy wasn't dead, wounded, bleeding, close to death but not quite death yet. He remained on his knees, slumped over head facing down to the floor, he struggled to open up his eye and his vision was blurred, he tried to get up but he failed, slumping over and onto the floor. He threw up blood and it pooled by the side of him. Rolling over to his stomach he slowly started to crawl towards the road, leaving a long trail of blood behind him. Through mud and dust and bullet cases he crawled. He could not give up, he was destined for so much, there was no way he was dying in his home country there was now way he would give up his life for a traitor. He was Deckland Natsa-Vaskes, and somehow he had survived the fall of Hamburg City.