Ancient, collapsed, derelict, green, wet. All that remained of Old Chicago was a tangle of decaying ruins squatting in a swamp.
The city was no longer one, now it was a swamp, and as old as it was, Old Chicago could not compare to The Last City; a haven for all that remained of the descendents of the ancient city’s builders. The swamp that it had become was everywhere; the march of time having consumed the city in its entirety. The very air had been affected; no longer was it clouded with the noise of millions of people going about their lives, innocent of the horrors of what lurked in the shadows, that noise of millions of men, women, and children had been replaced with that of innumerable animals, birds and insects going about their lives after they unknowingly replaced the city’s original inhabitants. The streets had been transformed from wide boulevards to marshlands where swamp water was two feet deep, with rises coming out of the water made up of debris, dirt, and plants. The buildings now reduced husks of their former selves became the daily home of a great many nighttime predators.
It was in the shadow of one such building that a trio of figures advanced swiftly alongside. They moved with precision that could only be ingrained with training of which they had much from an early age. They moved while in constant communication with one another; a way to make sure that if they were attacked and one was neutralized the others would know all the while it allowed them to be constantly aware of their surroundings.
The first of the figures was slim, donned in light armor, and draped down the figures back was a dark green cloak the color of the swamp, accompanying the cloak was a hood of the same color that was pulled up around the figures head. The first figure’s uniform, the portions not covered in light grey armor were of an identical green as the cloak and hood. Of the three figures she was the one that was the most unhindered by the swamp. Hunter.
How ever subtle the first figure was in moving the second figure, the largest of the trio was anything but. Incased from head to toe in hand crafted dull-grey colored power armor, the seconded figure walked behind the first, anything that was in its way flatted by the weight of its boots. The power-armored being swept the trios flank with his heavy machine gun his eyes ever watchful as they moved. He was the leader. Titan.
The third figure was the most cumbersome of the trio, clad in a dark brown trench coat and whose head was protected by a rounded helmet. His movement was what slowed the team’s movement; unlike the Hunter who was trained from an early age to be a scout, and unlike the Titan who’s power-armor made almost any obstacles to move across irrelevant, the third figure spent most of his life studying, learning, experimenting. He was the groups artillery, his abilities allowed him to eliminate groups of enemies at a time. Warlock.
Upon reaching the far corner of the building they were using as cover the trio halted, tightening their small formation in the swamp water.
“Overwatch Control, this is Vermillion One, we have entered the deployment site and are awaiting final confirmation to begin hunter-killer patrol.” The voice of Fireteam Vermillion’s leader was cold, almost emotionless.
“Vermillion One, this is Overwatch Control, you have a go, repeat you have a go. Good luck, the Traveler Protects.” Responded their controller back at The Tower.
“Affirmative, we’re moving out, Vermillion One out.” Raxus, a Titan and an Exo of The Last City nodded to himself.
“Felicia, get ready to leap-frog across, I’ve got you six.” Raxus addressed the Fireteams’ Human Hunter. “Move out on my command.”
“Yes sir.” The Hunter responded as she tensed.
“Augustus, watch my six, if it has two legs and isn’t of The City, kill it.” This was to the teams Awakened Warlock.
“Understood, Fireteam Leader.”
Raxus shifted as he readied to move into an overwatch position to cover Vermillion Two for when she moved.
“Go, Go, Go!”
They were Guardians of The Last Safe Haven on Earth, the elite of the Forces Of The City. Due to the gifts granted to them by the Traveler at birth they were trained from an early age to fulfill their purpose. The three Guardians had entered Old Chicago to do just that; reclaim the ancient city for the people of The Last City, and drive back the aliens that dared to encroach upon it.