#now on. they dont have a name their helmet is always filled with red smoke due to the format of the game only the rescue corps know what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

admiral-hast · 4 years

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Hi I Have managed to ruin your time here for 30 seconds

HELLO HERE I HAVE PART OF A STORY TO MAKE YOUR SCROLLING TAKE LONGER

"**TROOPS! ALL READY?!**"

"YES, SIR!"

"**THEN FOLLOW ME!**"

*as the british watched, one man emerged from his trench, his metal armor gleaming. the british laughed, and then opened fire, but the laughter died quickly as bullets pinged off the metal on the man. Then, as he pulled the cover off the thing he held, the British eyes went wide, for he held a gun that looked like no other. It was no rifle.*

***but an antibunker gun.***

*he whipped the barrel, and the rifle belched fire, and a machine gun, and the men operating it, were obliterated. With the smoothness of a trained Arty, the man changed the shell in the breech, and fired again. the machineguns opened fire on him, their bullets ricocheting off just like the rifle rounds. While the storm of rounds slowed him down, he thineed it with each of his shots. Then, a massive wave of german troops climbed out of the trench far behind him, and another wave after that, followed by yet another. Rifle rounds filled the air, british ad germans falling enmasse, and then the armored man reached the trench, and jumped inside. in the chaos, he had jerry-rigged an explosive vest, and when his feet hit the trench bottom, the trench was filled with fire and death. Then, the armored man ran out of the smoke, seemingly fine, and began to cut down enemy soldiers as the normal troops flowed into the trench.*

*the remaining daylight was filled with screams*

**[Next Day]**

*the troops led on their march, the armored man at the head of their coloumn. The troops found it odd that the person was always silent, and calm - that is, until combat came. Then their commander became a demon, seemingly unkillable and always with the highest kill count of any encounter, whether it be a trench rush, a face to face confrontation, or a move against armored vehicles. there were several romours about him too - that he had won a 1v1 against an american 76 Sherman, had won against a force of flame-thrower troops, and had survived being attacked without his armor. Of course, no one believed the romours, except those who had stayed with the unit long enough.*

"Commander! Where are we going?!"

*the commander sighed softly in his helm, and took out a notepad. after he wrote down their destination, he handed it to one of the men behind him, and it was passed to the soldier who had asked.*

"Holy shi- you're going to kill us all!"

"Keep talking like that, and he might kill you himself!"

*the soldier grumbled at the soldier who said that, but went silent."

[2 hours later]

*a massive repairing grounds for allied vehicles came into view of the coloumn, and the Commander held up his hand, ordering them to stop. he then wrote another note, and passed it to the man behind him, who read it, then passed it.*

"Commander, you cant just-"

*the commander held up his hand, and then turned, and was gone. then, the sounds of gunshots came from the repairing grounds, and they watched as their commander ripped through the enemy with his sword in one hand, and killed tanks with his anti-tank pistol, causing massive fireballs as tanks exploded, and staining the ground red as he walked through the grounds, an always constant stream of insane laughter emmiting from him. The new recruits, seeing what their commander could do, what he was *happy* doing, turned white, but the ones who had been around for a while werent affected by it anymore. After about half an hour, the Commander came back to the coloumn, his armor blackened from fire and the uniform underneath stained red from the lifeblood of dozens. he made the gesture for 'Advance', and the coloumn started marching once more.

*as they marched, one of the early recruits turned to one of the veterans of the coloumn, his face still white from what he had just seen.*

"Has he.. always been like this?"

*the veteran nodded*

"Mhmm. you should have seen him against one of those Pershings when he was angry."

"He went against a *Pershing*?!"

"Not only that, but he killed it with his sword, and then.. well, you dont want to know what happened to the crew. That is, the crew that survived."

"He.. killed a Pershing.. with a sword..?"

"Yeah. Ripped the armor apart and hit the ammo rack hard enough to make it explode."

"He survived the explosion?"

"Oh, he was fine."

*then, a note was passed to the veteran, who unfolded it and read it.*

"Commander doesnt want me to talk about it anymore. But, bottom line is - everything you hear about him is true."

[1 hour before sunset]

*the coloumn had made camp, with cooks making and serving stew, and the soldiers servicing their rifles. However, despite the warm attitude outside, and the food, Commander sat in his tent, silently cleaning his massive weapons and cleaning his still-donned armor. As the troops outside went to bed, Commander sneaked from the camp, with nothing but his sword, a belt of rigged grenades, and his 50.cal revolver. As he walked, he caught a glimpse of a group of British troops, and headed towards them. As he entered the light cast by one of their fires, he heard the rustle as the troops looked over at him, and then the sounds of them all grabbing their rifles and taking aim.*

"What do you want, German?!"

*As the troops waited for an answer, Commander walked forward, hearing the clicking of rifles readying to fire. However, he didnt stop, and then sat down infront of the fire.*

"Well?! Why shouldnt we shoot you hear and now, eh?!"

*Commander sighed softly, and then took out his notepad, wrote a note, and handed it to one of the troops.*

"He says.. he wants a cup of tea.. by the fire?"

*Commander nodded*

"Then why do you have grenades and weapons?"

*Commander wrote and passed another note*

"Because you thought we were going to immediatly shoot you?"

*Commander nodded, and then shrugged, and passed another note*

"Are you mute or somethin?"

*Commander nodded again*

"How?"

*another note written and passed*

"Shrapnel to the throat.. alright then. And are you serious about tea?"

*A small nod from Commander, as he put his hands to the flame*

"Alright, fine. Boys, lower your weapons, and lets give this man a cup of tea, because we're not like the Masacring Reich."

*Commander listened as the British troops lowered their weapons, and sat by the fire, not moving. Five minutes later, a cup of tea was placed beside him, and the British who had spoken to Commander sat beside him.*

"Whats your name?"

*commander wrote on his pad, and showed it to the British*

"You're just called Commander? Have you forgotten your name?"

*Commander paused, then nodded.*

"My name's Johnson. What's it like in the German Army?"

*Commander began to write, and Johnson watched as his pen, which had moved moderately before, not became a gray blur. After writing for a minute, Commander ripped the pages out, and handed them to Johnson, who began to read*

"It's not great.. but you have it better than most.. because you have achieved legendary status as being.. 'Unkillable', and 'An unstoppable force of death'?"

*another nod from Commander*

"Then why should I trust that you wont attack us..?"

*another note, another pass*

"Because at night, you can shrug off the legend and just be a person again?"

*another nod*

"I.. see. alright then."

*Commander nodded, and then lifted his helm up to expose his mouth, and began to drink his tea, smiling whilst he drank. After a few minutes, Commander put the teacup on the ground near the fire, and then leaned on Johnson, and fell asleep. After a few minutes, Johnson fell asleep too.*

[A Few Hours Later]

*Johnson awoke to a light clanking, and opened his eyes to see that he had been layed down. He saw a note left beside him, and read it. 'Thanks for the tea'. He smiled, and looked in the direction the german named COmmander had come from, to see the moonlight reflect off a familiar helmet before it dissapeared. He got up, and went back to his tent, bringing all the notes Commander had left him the previous night with him, to make sure it wasnt a dream when he went back on march the next day, and entered his tent. He put the notes in his pack, and fell asleep in his cot.*

[The Next Morning]

*the coloumn was on the march once more, the sound of boots hitting the ground rythmatic, like clockwork, with the men talking between themselves. Commander could hear it all, but acted as if he couldnt, and so he could hear many of the whisperings and romours about himself. This is how he heard that his absence had been noticed during the night, and another tale spun about him, as the troop who had found his tent empty whispered to one of the vets*

"He wasnt in his tent-"

"Commander?"

"Mhmm. do you know what he could have been doing?"

"Aye. Tales say that he stalks in the night, a silent terror to the sleeping enemy. So if he's gone, just trust that he is gone for our safety and the gory of the Fatherland."

"..I see. How often does he do this?"

"Almost every night, when he can find a group of enemy. Just dont mind it."

"Alright. I'll try not to."

*the troops fell silent, and Commander smiled under his helm. So, no one had tried to think too much about his dissapearences.. Very good. Then, he saw a glimpse of metal, and raised his hand to halt the troops. As they stopped, an anti-tank shell smashed against Commander, errupting in a massive fireball and engulfing him. The enemy could be hear shouting to reload, and then the smoke was blown away as Commander opened his arms wide, revealing that nothing except a minor dulling of his armor's shine had happened. Then, as one, the coloumn stepped back as the saw the red, demonic glow in Commander's helm's eyeslits. The enemy laughed*

"What? Are we supposed to b- HOLY SHIT"

*COmmander seemed to dissapear with a shockwave, cracking the ground as he pushed off, and then he was inside the enemy formation. These troops were American, and their faces morphed into masks of fear as the felt the insanity coming off the angered German. As they raised their rifles, Commander pulled his own pistols out, and began to fire, each shell blowing apart whatever they hit. the men in the coloumn also began to open fire, pullets ripping through soldiers, tents, vehicles, and other weapons. As the last enemy man fell, Commander turned to his men, and surveyed his losses, before taking out his notepad and writing another note. once he finished, he gave it to the closest man, who read it aloud.

"...Take what you can off the dead, and leave the bodies, and take the vehicles and weapons."

"But shouldnt we stop?"

*another note written, another note passed*

"We can stop, but you'll go on?"

*Commander nodded at this, and the men murmered amongst themselves*

"Alright then, sir. But will you be coming back?"

*another note, another pass*

"Possibly not, so we should shoose another commander?"

*Another nod from Commander*

"..Very well. Goodbye, sir."

*and with that, Commander turned on his heel, his greatcoat swishing with him, and he advanced, leaving his unit behind so that he may continue his slaughter*

[Several hours later]

*Commander had been running for hours now, only stopping when he came across enemy troops, and even then he moved like lightning, destrony armored vehicles, men, and artliery alike, and then taking the heavy guns for his own use. However, the consequences of leaving his unit behind showed, as his armor was pocketed and scarred, the cloth covering underneath burned and slashed. However, what was underneath wasnt skin, or another uniform, but rather a full suit of armor. As he ran, he seemed to clank and squeal as armored plates hit and ground against one another, until he tripped and fell face first into dirt, his speed making him skid forward, his stolen weapons and metal going flying. As his momentum stopped, he sighed, and ceased moving, simply laying there, unable to go further.*

[Hours later]

*Commander could begin to hear a rumbling in the distance, after a countless amount of time had passed, due to no light entering his helmet. As the rumbling came closer, he recognized it as an engine, or rather, several. Then, as they became almost too loud, they stopped.*

"Well, lookee we got here boys. A sleeping German. What should we do it?"

"Dunno, Stev. Whatcha think?"

"I say we take it for questionin'"

"Who gonna pick it up, then?"

"Shouldnt be that hard. Most o' them half-starved. But I'll do it. Might have one of dem Luger thingys"

*Commander then heard the thunk of boots hitting the ground as one of the Soldiers - American, no doubt, their accents too country and stupid - Dismounted from a vehicle, most likely a tank. Then, he could feel the American try and lift him up, and hear as the soldier strained, then cursed and gave up.*

"The hell? This one be heavier than the rest of 'em. You try, John."

*As the other American approached, Commander sighed, deciding he would get up after this idiot tried. And, like the other one.. 'Stev', probably short for Stevon... 'John' gave up just as fast, if not quicker.*

"God Damn, this one is heavy"

*After the American stopped talking, Commander pushed himself up, standing fully before the soldiers realized he was up*

"Holy-"

*in silence, Commander smashed his fist into John's stomach, sending him flying into one of the tanks, the impact accompanied with the crunch of bones breaking. Commander whipped around, his fore-arm smashing into Stev's head, making the skull crunch and crumple like paper, and then bullets began to ping off his armor. As he swept around, breaking soldier after soldier, one of the tanks began to target him. As he broke the last standing soldier, it fired, sending him to his knees as the shell hit him in the back.*

"Gottem!"

*the smoke of the shell's impact parted suddenly, when Commander launched himself at the tank. In a flash of metal, cloth, flesh, and anger, he ripped the top hatch of the tank turret off, and dropped inside. Still moving too fast for the crew to see him properly, he crushed the gunner and loader against the walls, and threw the commander outside the tank. As he heard the commander hit the ground, Commander threw a tank shell hard enough into the driver compartment for it to explode, and jumped out of the tank before it detonated. As he hit the ground, he could see the tank commander look up at him in fear, frozen, and then his expression turned from fear to confused as he looked at the ruined armor and clothing of Commander, or rather, what lay beneath.*

"What in the f*ck?"

*As commander looked down at themselves, they could see why this person said that, for their armor was shredded, revealing the truth about them*

"You're a girl in a f*ckin suit of armor? Pretending to be a man?"

"..."

"What? Wont talk now?"

"... I havent spoken in more than half a decade. So pardon if my English isnt that good"

"... You sound like a goddamn rich persons daughter."

"I should just get this over with"

*As Commander ripped the machinegun out of the recently exploded tank, and leveled it at the soldier, he raised his hands, and his face turned to fear once more*

"Sorry! I didnt mean to-"

"Have you heard the legends of an iron man, bulletproof, who doesnt give mercy?"

"Well, y-yes, from retreating units, but its just a story-"

"I am that person. Now then."

*Commander pulled back the bolt on the gun*

"How long has it been since you've been able to come out of that suit?"

"... why"

"I mean, you could come out now, and-"

"I don't require another person to get out of this armor."

*After saying this, Commander pulled the trigger, and the last man dropped. Dropping the gun, she sat down, nd reached for her back, grabbing a handle, and twisted it. As it clicked, the front of the armor opened, and she stepped out, and began to repair the armor with uniforms from dead men and armored plates scattered from vehicles and personal armor*

[1 1/2 hours later]

*Commander was on the move again, her armor completely repaired. She was running for another 15 minutes before the rumble of airplane engines could be heard overhead. Commander grinned, as she had found both rope and a metal pipe she could bend into a hook, and now she intented to use them. As the planes passed overhead, she turned, and threw the pipe, with it's curved edge catching on the edge of the plane's wing. As it flew away, is began to lift Commander into the air, and then the wing creaked, and ripped off from her and her armor's weight, sending the plane in a spiral, and then as it hit the ground, a fireball.*

"..."

*she turned, and continued deeper into enemy territory, leaving the failed experiment behind.*

[3 hours later, dusk.]

*She slowed to a walk as a light flickered on the horizen, brightly. she ducked, as a spotlight went over her head*

"I saw something moving! By the Queen, I did!"

"Eh shaddup ya british prick. If ya saw it, then where it be?"

"It fookin ducked, I swear it!"

"Bah. Why dont ya go see what it is, eh?"

"..Fine."

*As the soldier began to walk her way, Commander lept toward him, smashing into him, and sending them both to the ground*

"What the hell is that?!"

*Commander sighed, laying on the ground, and decided she would see what they would try and do*

"I dont know. seems to be a giant metal puppet"

"... what"

"It just jumped out at me, its made of metal, and its just laying there now! What, you wont believe it until you see it?!"

"Yea"

"Then get over here!"

*the rusling of clothing sounded as the american came over, and crouched beside Commander*

"...Looks like you're right. Want to bring it back to camp?"

"Sure. But what if there's.. like.. someone inside?"

"Eh."

"..."

"Ok then."

*each soldier took one of Commander's legs, and began to drag her to their camp, huffing from the exertion*

"This things heavy!"

*in the next moment, she stopped moving, and one of the soldiers grabbed the rim of her helm, trying to pull it off*

"Damn thing's sealed or somethin. Wanna get a cutte-"

"Enough."

*as Commander spoke, all noise around her stopped*

"It can speak.."

"And it's female"

"I know what we shou-!"

*Before the soldier could finish his sentence, Commander grabbed him by the throat, and stood, lifting him off the ground*

"I.. was going.. to say.. food.."

"Really?"

*the soldier nodded, clawing at COmmander's metal gauntlet*

"...Very well"

*she released him, and he fell to the ground. She looked around, seeing several troops with their hands on weapons, and then spotted a kitchen truck. In an instant, Commander was sitting against the kitchen truck, in the most heated spot*

"Did she just.."

"Like a cat."

"..."

"Huh. Oi, may we ask - where are you from? Your coats got a lot of symbols on em."

*Commander looked down at the quilt of coats she wore, which contained british, american, german, and russian symbols on it from patches through the years*

"Would you shoot me if I said Germany?"

"Some of us would, but just aint right to shoot a girl."

"Then.. perhaps i should not say."

"Damn, are the Germans draftin' women now? Must be desparate!"

"... You do realize there is only one way to get this many coat patches from so many countries, correct?"

*at this, the soldier's laughter stopped, and he raised an eyebrow*

"So, you sayin yer a ruthless killer?"

"Doubt me?"

"Very."

"then i propose a bet"

"What? gonna be sewin or somethin?"

*Commander stood, and crossed her arms*

"Fight me. I win, I get a meal and a place to sleep by a fire"

"And if i win?"

"Then I'll do what you want for a day"

*At this, Commander saw a flicker of male hunger for female companionship in every soldier's eyes infront of her, if only for a moment*

(we need blyatle boi)

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