Long Form Roleplayers

First read The Dark Order Rising - Part 2

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max was in a towering rage as he paced up and down in the large cavern. Last night, Piotr Kruschev, one of his most trusted lieutenants and experienced troopers, had taken one of the Mark V Battle Suits and left their hideout.

At first, as impossible as it seemed, Max and Danijel had feared treason. But, soon, it became clear that it was not treason, not at all. It was something so insane, so foolish, and so unexpectedly idiotically heroic that neither Max or Danijel could believe it, not of Piotr.

He was quiet, dedicated, ruthless, brutal, and utterly loyal to Max and the Dark Order. While Max had been sharply barking orders to lead a team of men in the remaining Mark V’s to find him, Danijel had interrupted him, quickly showing him a jumping, bouncing video from a patient streamed live to the internet at the National Military Hospital. There, in a cafeteria, Piotr in his Mark V and a brutally injured White Knight were locked in combat.

Max was, for one of the few times in his life, utterly speechless as he watched the battle unfold, watched one of his most experienced lieutenants, the silent, but awesomely powerful, Piotr get sliced in half by White Knight. The emotions surging inside the ruthless, brutal leader of the Dark Order were tangled and confused. Rage, grief, guilt. He couldn’t afford to lose Piotr. He couldn’t afford to lose that Mark V suit. And yet… look at what his trooper had accomplished. Laid out, with that mighty, proud chest turned into a raw wound, his torso looking dented, collapsed, his proud pectorals ripped and decimated, his left arm re-broken, his right arm with the tricep cored and burnt smoke pouring from the wound, blood pouring out of his mouth, his enemy White Knight had been injured to the point of death.

Suddenly, as the video ended. Max turned, the path before him was crystal clear. The look he turned on his lover, his second in command, was full of fire and steel, fury and certainty. It was a look that brooked no disagreement. “Bring me one of the armortech battle vests, then assemble the men. Tonight, we attack.”

Danijel only nodded, and carried out his Commander’s instructions. Only minutes later, Danijel helped the Iron Mercenary into one of the heavy armortech battle vests. Constructed of a flexible metallic mesh alloy of the same type that formed the Mark V Battle Suit’s, they had secured about 20 of them in the raid on the vault. An armortech battle vest could protect a man from small arms fire, heavy kinetic impacts, and explosives, within reason.

Danijel knew why Max had asked for it. He meant to lead this attack, despite the half-healed wound marring his hard-muscled chest and abdomen, and would use this vest to offer him additional protection in the upcoming battle. It was his way of telling Danijel that he would not risk himself recklessly.

The men had been assembled, and soon, Max turned to address them. He stood straight, every muscle in the evil super soldier’s body rigid, rippling with power and strength. He radiated supreme confidence and power. “Tonight, our comrade, Piotr Kruschev, sacrificed his life for the Dark Order. He gave his life for us all, nearly killing White Knight. And we shall not let his sacrifice be in vain. From this day forward, the Dark Order will celebrate the sacrifice of our brave comrade. And when we finally crush the allied nations and rip apart the super heroes arrayed against us, this day will be remembered as the day we began our conquest. The day of Piotr’s sacrifice. Tonight, we go to battle. We strike, now, while White Knight is out of action. Tonight, we will assault Military Central Command. We will conquer it. And it will be our new base. The very heart of the allied nation’s power will be ours. We go. We conquer. We will be victorious. The Dark Order rises, and none shall stop us!!”

A deafening roar rocked the cavern, and a shout rang out, “IRONS!! IRONS!! IRONS!!”

The officers worked closely with the Iron Mercenary to develop a battle plan. This would be an all out assault, with every single member of the Dark Order joining in. Every advanced weapon and piece of defensive gear looted from the vault would be deployed. There would be no turning back. It was going to be all or nothing. With White Knight clearly out of the picture, this was their chance to strike back at the allied nations and their tame super heroes, and strike hard.

An hour later, before the sun had even risen, in the early hours of the morning, just a few hours after the brutal battle between Piotr and White Knight, the forces of the Dark Order streamed out of the abandoned mine, located up high in the central mountain range, only a few hour’s journey from the Military Central Command for the highly mobile Dark Order forces.

Danijel, operating one of the Mark V suits, kept pace with the Iron Mercenary as the imposing, hard muscled, elite mercenary lead the armored vehicles down the network of minor roads leading to the outskirts of Metro City, where Military Central Command was located.

Moving quickly, remaining undetected, the battle group reached the foothills overlooking the complex. Columns of smoke could be seen rising from the damaged National Military Hospital.

With a quick set of orders, the highly advanced portable, lightweight laser artillery pieces, looted from the Vault began to deploy, their range finders and targeting systems locking onto the vast generator complex powering the defenses of Military Central Command. In the middle of the task force, a small, innocuous jeep sat. That jeep contained the portable stealth field, shielding them from active detection. There was no sign they had been detected yet.

The Iron Mercenary stood at the front of the battlegroup, his eyes scanning the horizon, every sense alert and ready for battle. He gave the order, and suddenly the emitters on the front of the laser artillery began to glow bright red, until simultaneously, 5 enormous laser beams lanced out to converge on the heavily armored power plant located near the middle of Military Central Command.

Detection was inevitable now. Max, wearing his combat gear, his heavy combat boots, his heavy, black combat trousers, topped off with the armortech battle vest, which Danijel had somehow managed to affix with the emblem of the Dark Order, stood ready for battle, his muscles rippling with power. Ready to conquer. If they were lucky, White Knight might still be at Military Central Command, so Max could finish what Piotr had started.

10:01 Eros: Shortly after the brutal battle that claimed the life of Piotr, White Knight was taken to a secretive military base with utmost urgency. Due to the extent of the many injuries he suffered, the superhero who was once thought to be undefeatable, was induced into a coma as entire teams of scientists, doctors and nurses did everything they could to speed up his recovery. He remained their biggest hope at defeating the Dark Order once for all.

The hero's body turned heads as it was wheeled into a secured room. Its massive, muscular frame still looked impressive with its rippling muscles partially covered by graying blonde fur. But now what truly caught everyone's eyes were the gruesome wounds that marred it. This time, not even his handsome face had been sparred. The nasty wound had been stitched, which only added to its grim appearance. Thanks to his own healing abilities and whatever was latest in technology, the hero would likely pull through. But not without earning quite a few nasty scars to tell the story.

His wife and son quickly joined him. While his popularity remained untouchable with the public and the higher ups in the military knew this was their only hope, there were families within the institution that began to resent the noble hero. The amount of dead and wounded at the destroyed hospital was immense, and to some that would've been spared if only the hero had not been sent there.

As they wept bitterly, a figure approached. Eros, placed a hand on each of their shoulders with a somber expression on his face.

"I never would've thought that I would see that day that my old friend would be reduced to... this. It's a sad day for this country- no, to mankind. But fear not, I will succeed where White Knight failed, I will defeat this Iron Mercenary and end this senseless war at once."

Eros knew what he was doing, and would savor the chance of painfully humiliating White Knight, even if the man was in a coma, fighting for his life. They had formed an impressive team during their late teens and early 20s, charming the world with their good looks and feats against criminals and villains. They were around the same height, though Eros' muscles, as big and bulging as they were, did not have that same marble cut appearance, suggesting he did not lived under a strict diet and routine of exercises as the White Knight. It was visible specially on his stomach, that protruded out from his costume with little definition. Despite this, the man was still a tank and had a commanding presence.

His skin was pale, his hair and mustache a graying black that created a nice contrast with his blue eyes. If White Knight's image was of a noble family man, Eros was a seductive womanizer with a bit of a bad boy appeal despite his role as a hero.

His gloating was interrupted by sirens blasting through every military base in the country. The Dark Order had organized mere hours after White Knight's brutal battle against Piotr, their target was the Military Central Command. Eros would finally have his moment. He would bring the Iron Mercenary's head as his prize and take the place he always thought he deserved as Earth's most powerful hero. Despite the severity of the situation, he was beaming.

Only a few minutes later, a succession of tanks, soldiers and military planes began to follow the source of those laser beams that had targeted the base. There was a constant sound of shots being fired, missiles being sent to its targets, the loud buzzing of engines along with the scream of soldiers. Leading the chaotic march, Eros flew in front of them, fingers clenched into fists. His voice somehow rose above the cacophony as the shouted:

"Iron Mercenary, I've come to claim your head!"

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max Irons watched impassively, his emotions having turned ice cold as he entered the rush of combat. The laser artillery’s beams drilled into the heavily armored power plant, the powerful beams drilling through armored steel and reinforced concrete with a relentless, patient, inevitable force.

Even while sirens began to blare in the distance, while the forces stationed at the Military Central Command began to mobilize, as the Dark Order battle groups began to array themselves for the coming conflict, Max stayed still and watched. He was the calm center of the hurricane, the terrible violence he was capable of building within him, but remaining at bay.

Then, as fighter jets began to roar overhead, missiles streaking in, as the Military Central Command’s fixed defenses powered up, and began to target the Dark Order battlegroups, the generator exploded in a massive fireball as the laser artillery pierced the armor, striking the turbines and fuel storage.

The Military Central Command shuddered…. And went dark as power was cut. Emergency lights flickered on, but the heavy fixed defenses were silent now.

Max knew that the Dark Order was outnumbered, but they were not outgunned. He himself could rip apart entire battle groups of Allied troops, but his own forces possessed the contents of the Vault. Weaponry and defensive countermeasures so advanced, they were kept in secure storage, to be used only in dire situations. The possibility of the kind of surgical raid on the vault by the Dark Order led by a new super villain was not in the cards, as far as the Allied Forces were concerned.

That’s when Max sprang forward, shouting orders, “Send the Mark V’s in a single battle group behind the enemy lines to silence their artillery. I want squads of commandos with armortech battle vests to seek out the Allied force’s officers. Cut their fucking heads off. Disrupt their chain of command. We do this now!!”

Advanced anti-air and anti-missile fire leapt up from the Dark Order forces, looted from the vault, and knocked most of the incoming missiles out of the sky, with plenty left over to begin decimating the incoming fighter jets.

But then, suddenly, leading the charge of the defenders, flying just above a column of Allied tanks, Max Irons heard a familiar voice. His eyes narrowed as he looked up.

Then he grinned, his voice matching the sheer volume of the superhero’s booming voice with ease. “EROS! Always the last one to the party, aren’t you? Always following in White Knight’s shadow. One step behind him. You want my head? Come and fucking get it!”

Max Irons knew about Eros. He had played second fiddle to White Knight during the war against the Dark Order. He mostly did clean up operations, but for some reason, he never lead the major assaults. The Dark Order’s intelligence analysts had suspected some kind of friction between Eros and White Knight, but in public, they appeared on friendly terms, and yet, Eros had never achieved the popularity or legendary status of the beloved father figure and family man, White Knight.

Max Irons squatted down, his quads bunching up, then he leapt forward in a soaring, surging vaulting leap that landed him square in the middle of the leading column of Allied tanks that were just lining up a firing arc towards one of the Dark Order’s battlegroups, beneath the hovering form of Eros.

His muscles surging, his adrenaline pumping, the ruthless mercenary moved like a demon, avoiding small arms fire from the desperate soldiers, landing in front of the lead tank, and prying his hands under the tread. Desperate infantry men turned their weapons on his back, but the bullets either bounced off his super soldier muscle, leaving small bruises that irritated but did no real injury, or were stopped completely by the armortech battle vest he wore to protect the injury to his torso. Already more than half healed, his strength was undiminished.

His biceps flared, bulging like cannons, his core tightened, sending out a surge of power throughout his ruthless, steel-hard muscles. It hurt his wound, but pain was no stranger to him, and in the blink of an eye, he lifted the lead tank over his head, then flung it like a football towards Eros.

10:01 Eros: Without White Knight's nobility and temperance, Eros was quick to anger and relished in toying with his enemies, breaking them until they were begging for mercy. The comment about him being under White Knight's shadow had his blood boiling, his hunger for blood only increasing.

Eros let out a battle cry as he charged towards his enemy, he thought about this moment for decades. To be leading an army, to be in the center of a decisive battle and win the adoration of the public. The days of the squeaky clean family men were over, now people would only shout one name: Eros. The hero couldn't help but smirk at the thought of White Knight as an useless cripple, fading into obscurity.

He watched as Irons' muscles bulged in an incredible display when the man grabbed a hold of the lead tank and sent it towards him. Eros prepared himself, and when the tank would hit he grabbed at it with both hands, letting out a grunt as the impact was harder than he had anticipated.

"You're a dead man, Irons."

Eros growled, every muscle in his body becoming covered in large veins as the hero shouted, mimicking the Iron Mercenary's move and throwing the tank right back at him.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max was in the rush of combat, every movement, every detail of the battle stamped onto his senses. He was a machine, with one purpose, to destroy his enemy. Pain was there, that half-healed wound on his chest and abdomen throbbing, but it was ancillary. Immaterial. Pain mattered only if it signaled a decrease in his combat capability.

He waited until the hurtling tank momentarily broke line of sight between himself and Eros. In that brief moment, Max’s herculean quads surged with strength, propelling him up in the air towards the hurtling tank.

He had calculated that the super hero was strong enough to catch the tank, and egotistical enough to try and throw the tank back as a sign of defiance. And sure enough, the tank soon came hurtling down towards the uprushing form of the Iron Mercenary. He deftly reached out his hands in front of him, and in a blur of motion, flipped over the tank like an elite acrobat, his boots smashing onto the hurtling machine, adding further to his momentum.

He was counting on the element of surprise to aid him as his flip and leap off the falling tank made his vector and speed unpredictable. He charged towards Eros, his reply hurled out towards the second-rate superhero. “You want death, Eros? I’ve got plenty of that for you!”

He cocked his fist, muscles surging, veins standing out on his body, as the Dark Order’s leader let out a roar, driving a brutal fist towards Eros’s solar plexus with every ounce of skill and strength he could muster, looking to savagely fuck up the super hero leading the Allied defense, knowing how devastating a blow to the solar plexus could be under the best of circumstances.

Around them, as the battle raged, Allied soldiers and Dark Order troops alike stared at the two titans battling overhead with stunned expressions on their faces.

10:01 Eros: It was as if the hero was not even living through the present, but at all times imagining scenarios of a near future where he was victorious over not only the Iron Mercenary, but the entire Dark Order. He had watched both Max and Piotr fight against White Knight and the sheer strength and brutality both men showcased in destroying his former partner.

Yet, he still didn't take them seriously. He figured White Knight had grown soft, complacent, and let his guard down in those two encounters. But he wouldn't let that happen to him, or so he thought. Before he knew it, Max' mighty fist was buried into his solar plexus, for a moment those soldiers who watched the fight unfold could even swear they saw the villain's knuckles protruding from Ero's muscular back.

The hero's eyes went blank, all he managed to do was cough weakly while it felt as if time was standing still. The impact of the fist was severe, doing untold damage to Eros' insides and entirely knocking the wind out of the man. Dazed and hurt, his muscular frame was seen crashing behind some hills, away from the thick of the battle

Eros' smashed through trees, rocks and whatever stood in his way until he finally stopped, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. Wheezing and gasping for air, the hero rose to his knees, both hands planted onto the ground.

"Fuck..." he muttered, realizing his grave mistake in underestimating his opponent.

There was now a hole roughly the size of the Iron Mercenary's fist under his chest, revealing his pale bruised skin that was covered by his salt and pepper fur.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: The ruthless super soldier watched Eros’s body streak towards the foothills like a meteor, propelled by the brutal impact of his fist. As his own body fell back towards the raging battlefield below, he noted the spray of debris as the superhero’s body smashed into the ground.

His massive quads coiled like springs as he landed on the ground, in the middle of a squad of Allied infantry, sending broken bodies spraying out like roadkill. He didn’t even notice, his attention entirely focused on Eros. He leapt up again at once, soaring through the air in a massive, bounding leap, leaving the battle behind as he leapt over the crest of a nearby hill.

There, below, was Eros, surrounded by shattered trees and rocks, a furrow of destruction ending with his body at the point. Adjusting his trajectory, using slight shifts in his body, he plummeted down, silent and deadly, on a collision course with the superhero, who was just starting to rise to his hands and knees.

Max Irons was aiming to drill his boots directly into the small of the superhero’s back in a ruthless double stomp to his spine, like an artillery shell just as he reached his hands and knees!

10:01 Eros: Eros had barely gotten to his hands and knees, every muscle in his body rippling as he coughed and took deep breaths, when suddenly he noticed some movement from the corner of his eyes.

"Huh?"

That was all the hero had time to say before the Iron Mercenary viciously stomped onto his back, just barely missing his spine by a complete miracle. It certainly did not feel like one, however, as a few ribs would shatter into nothing under the immense strength of the enemy's foot.

"GAAAAAAH FUCK!!!"

Eros screamed in agony, his blood spraying out of his mouth and covering the grass in front of him. His face was covered in veins, his eyes bloodshot and watery. It became perfectly clear that he was entirely out of his element here.

Desperate, he dug his fingers into the ground and began to drag his massive body from under Irons, blood dripping down his chin. Suddenly, a group of 5 soldiers, their muscles still noticeable under their gear, showed up following the path of destruction. They all aimed their weapons at the Iron Mercenary, until one finally shouted.

"Fire!"

And so, a hail of bullets was sent, targeting the villain's torso.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max grunted with satisfaction as he felt his boots drive deep into Eros’s broad, muscled back. He felt bones crunch under him as he smashed the hero’s body into the ground, saw the blood erupt from his mouth accompanied by screams of sheer agony.

Max readjusted his stance, as the hero began to desperately crawl like a broken worm to escape the wrath of the savage super soldier. Max reached down, ready to grab the hero and continue the destruction of the Allied force’s champion, when he heard a shout behind him.

He turned, as a hail of bullets from five Allied soldiers slammed into his torso. His Armortech battle vest shrugged off the bullets as though they were pebbles. And even if hadn’t been wearing the vest, those bullets would have just been a nuisance, bouncing off his steel-cabled ultra-dense ripped muscle. Though with the wound on his torso still healing, the vest was necessary, as the bullets might have done some damage if they struck his wound. Fuck White Knight. Max knew he needed to craft the thermonium alloy from the vault cache into a shield in order to deal with those fucking laser beams. That would be the next priority.

At that exact moment, his earpiece activated, with an update from Danijel. As always, Danijel’s voice was cold, calm, serene, like the eye of a hurricane surrounded by violence in every direction. “Max, the Allied artillery have been destroyed. Our battle groups have taken significant casualties, but with the artillery silenced me and the other Mark V’s are assaulting the Allied tank battalions from the rear while our own infantry keep them pinned down with rocket launchers. The commando squad we sent behind enemy lines has taken out most of the Allied force’s battlefield officers, and their command structure is nearing collapse. If you can keep Eros off our backs, we’ll have this wrapped up before much longer.”

Max grinned, and moved in to attack. These soldiers, like their comrades were soon to be, were dead before they even finished emptying their magazines. As Max charged forward, moving in a blur of deadly muscle and combat-forged precision, his boot lashed out smashing the first soldier so hard his body soared up over the hill, his sub-machine gun dropping silent to the ground.

Max’s bicep bulged, he moved in a blur, driving his fist into the next soldier’s jaw with savage force, the soldier’s head exploding into gore, his body dropping dead. Continuing his dance of death, moving at extreme speed, he deftly drove his palm into the next soldier’s arm as it gripped his sub-machine gun, smashing his body savagely to the side and spraying his two comrades with the redirected fire. Then, as an afterthought, the hard-muscled Iron Mercenary ripped the sub-machine gun from the muscular soldier’s grip like taking candy from a baby, and as the soldier staggered back, his arm broken by the violent move, Max Iron’s drove the barrel of the gun through the soldier’s body, piercing his body armor, impaling him on his own weapon, and leaving him to choke on his blood, before turning back, arms raised, fists held ready, to finish off Eros.

10:01 Eros: While Irons annihilated the brave soldiers, their muscular forms being reduced to mangled heaps of shattered bones and torn limbs in quick succession, Eros struggled to his feet. His cocky and arrogant demeanor was still there, as if in an effort to hide just how terrified he was by his foe, and just how badly he had been hurt so far in their fight.

Every muscle across his large body rippled under his tight, and now worn down, suit. Large tears and holes revealed his pale skin, contrasting greatly with his black and graying body hair. He panted heavily, those thick slabs of meat on each pec expanding and contracting painfully.

"Where the hell did you get yourself into this time, man..." He grumbled to himself after spitting out some more blood. In his earpiece, he would hear about the Dark Order's advances. Never one to follow orders, as the voices became louder and more desperate in their commands, Eros would simply remove the earpiece and crush it under his foot.

A primal masculine urge unleashed through his body as he watched his enemy readying himself for another round after he was done with the soldiers. It was as if some hidden amount of power had been activated through his bulging muscles. Two powerful warriors stood in front of one another, and only one of them was coming out alive. Eros intended that to be him.

The hero dug his heel into the ground before dashing onto the Iron Mercenary, attempting to push the man and sending him flying back, trying to direct both of them towards the rocket launchers. The pain radiating from his destroyed ribs were nearly overwhelming, which only added to his rage and desire to destroy Irons.

As both of their muscular bodies flew through air, Eros would release a quick, never ending succession of powerful punches and kicks all over the villain's body.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: The Iron Mercenary grinned as his eyes took in the sight of the battered superhero, blood dribbling out of his mouth. The rush of battle was upon him, the thrill of combat sang in his veins, the blood of his enemies was all around him. Max Irons was in his element, and his spirit soared with power and might.

His stance was full of purpose, his fists raised, every steel-cabled muscle in his pulsed with power, lean, hard, striated, his golden beard and short-cropped hair shining in the moonlight. His chest rose and fell beneath the protective covering of his armor-tech vest, standing in his black combat fatigues, his combat boots slightly spread apart in a professional fighter’s stance, his combat-forged muscle thrumming with power with each purposeful breath of the brutal super soldier.

He knew Eros. He knew what kind of man he was. Eros was at heart, a coward. All bluff and bluster, but when the going got rough, he would run. But despite his certainty, Eros proved Max wrong. Max was not expecting the sudden leaping charge from the middle-aged, thickly muscled, battle-damaged super hero, blood streaming from his mouth, the uniform over his ribs and body torn in places, revealing dark, savage bruises over his ribs.

That split second of surprise at misjudging Eros cost him, as the superhero, muscles bulging, slammed into the hard-muscled super villain like a freight train, throwing them up into the air. The wind was knocked out of Max Irons as he hurtled upwards, stunning the powerful super soldier long enough for Eros to unleash an absolutely devastating flurry of kicks and punches into his body, each one backed by Eros’s full might, which was not less than the strength of White Knight.

Had Max not been wearing his armortech vest, with the wound from White Knight’s laser beams still only half-healed, he might not have survived. The punches and kicks smashed into his vest, which blunted much of the force, but enough tore through to split open Max’s half healed wound, and blood soon started pouring out from the hem of his battle vest, and spraying out of Max’s mouth. Agony seared into his mind, fury, rage, and white-hot determination. The super hero and super villain tumbled in the air, and Max caught sight of the rocket launcher below them. It was manned by allied troops. But, just then, a squad of Dark Order commandos overrand the position, expertly killing the allied troops taking them by surprise.

Max had an idea, and executed it ruthlessly. With the iron-hard determination that saw him through the brutal war that ended most of the Dark Order, Max’s disciplined mind fought against the fog of pain clouding his brain, even as blood sprayed out of his mouth and streamed down his muscle from the re-opened wound, his bicep flexed and he smashed his fist forward. One punch, delivered with all his might and skill directly towards the thickly muscled super hero’s obviously broken ribs.

At that same moment, he screamed an order into his earpiece, “COMMANDO SQUAD ALPHA ONE, FIRE ON MY POSITION!”

He trusted his men implicitly, they obeyed without question, firing off a surface-to-air missile only just recently captured from the allied forces capable of knocking a fighter jet out of the sky. The missile streaked up towards the two battling super beings.

Counting on the fist to Eros’s broken ribs to stun the super hero, Max would struggle to take the superhero’s back, striving to lock in a savage full nelson, struggling to ensure that the hopefully badly stunned and injured superhero took the anti-air missile full in his thickly muscled chest!

The missiles were built for speed, not explosive power, as it did not take much firepower to knock out a delicate fighter jet, so it was unlikely to kill Eros, but if it did manage to impact, it would seriously fuck the super hero up.

10:01 Eros: This is it, that's what he had been dreaming about for all of this time. Eros was certain this was his moment, he would prove once for all that he was the superior hero to White Knight, that it would be thanks to his strenght and bravery that this war would end.

His pale blue eyes took on a sinister look as the Iron Mercenary's blood sprayed across his face, licking some of it off the corner of his mouth as he continued his onslaught against the villain's muscular body.

"You're dead, Irons."

His deep, nasal voice barked. But just as victory was so close that he could taste it, quite literally, things would reverse. The moment the villain's mighty fist came crashing onto his already damaged ribs, Eros' muscular form would crumple painfully around it.

CRACCCKKK

His pale face was red, the pain so sudden and so great he couldn't even scream. Instead, only blood and chunks of gore would come out of his mouth. Before he came crashing down, Irons grabbed him in a full nelson, the hero's arms, shoulders and back burning and straining under the villain's strength.

Eros' eyes widened as he watched the missile coming into his direction, aimed directly to his bulging, protruding pectorals. He flailed under his enemy's grip, the pain far too great to allow him to muster the strength necessary to free himself.

Dust covered both warriors as the missile would strike. As soon as the cloud dissipated, revealing the brutalized body of Eros. Weakened by the vicious attack to his ribs, he failed to brace himself for impact and took the full hit. The man panted heavily, letting out disturbing grunts and snoring sounds as he gurgled in his own blood. His previously bulging chest was a mangled mess, torn at its center, chunks of meat left dangling across the gaping wound.

The damage did not stop there, however. The right side of his face had been utterly destroyed. In a gruesome sight, his eye was nearly falling out of its socket, his mangled cheek leaving the right side of his mouth nearly fully visible, some teeth cracked and others missing entirely.

While his attempts to free himself would not stop, there was no longer as much strength behind those muscular, trapper arms.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max gritted his teeth as the missile impacted directly in the middle of Eros’s bulging, thickly muscled pectorals. Even though the superhero’s body shielded the Iron Mercenary from the majority of the damage, he was not unscathed. The shockwave set a ringing in his ears, and white lights shimmering in his eyes. As the kinetic force ripped through the super hero’s body and into his, it did even more damage to his half-healed wound, tearing it further. He was bleeding quite heavily now, and blood was trickling in a constant stream out of his mouth.

His forearms and triceps, exposed and unshielded from the missile’s explosion, were deeply lacerated, criss crossed with savage cuts and dripping blood. The pain assaulted his mind, but even then, his discipline never wavered as he kept the full nelson locked firmly around the superhero’s savagely injured body, fighting off Eros’s weak attempts to free himself. The explosion had thrown them off course, heading directly towards the main body of allied troops, a battalion of tanks, many burning now, surrounded by desperately fighting battle groups of Allied infantry companies.

Even though they outnumbered the Dark Order three to one, their equipment was vastly inferior to the ultra advanced weaponry looted from the military’s high-security storage vault, and they were losing badly.

For a few moments, in the aftermath of the missile’s detonation, Max was so stunned and dazed that he could only hold onto consciousness by a thread. But then, his legendary iron will exerted itself, and with a supreme surge of determination he fought through the fog clouding his mind, and assessed the situation, becoming aware of their trajectory and destination. Screaming with the effort, his lacerated forearms ripping at his mind with agony, the Iron Mercenary pulled up on the full nelson he had grimly locked onto the wounded super hero.

This effort forced their plummeting drop into a much more shallow angle, so that instead of smashing vertically into the battlefield, they came in almost horizontal. They plowed through a rank of Allied infantry who never even saw them coming, Eros’s brutally ravaged body acting like a battering ram, maiming and killing a dozen allied soldiers.

Then, the hurtling pair of super heros clipped a humvee, which housed the Colonel currently leading the Allied battle group’s desperate survivors. The brutalized body of Eros smashed into the roof of the humvee, leaving a streak of blood and gore across the top, before flipping the vehicle over, the Colonel within dying as he was jumbled around like a toy, his neck snapping. And with his death, the utter decimation of the Allied force’s battlefield chain of command. Finally, with Max riding him like some kind of wild, bleeding steed, the pair crashed into the side of a tank with enough force to tip the massive armored vehicle over onto its side.

The impact blasted the two super beings apart at last, Max’s body flung to the earth. He lay there for a moment, his ears ringing, blood dripping from his forearms, his mouth and beneath the hem of armor tech vest, from his reopened wound. The soldiers around the two were in shock, stunned by the sudden crash landing, and they did not immediately react.

Suddenly, with a shocking battle cry, the Iron Mercenary kipped up to his feet, forcing his injured body to obey his will.

Pain was his friend, his companion, and he held it close and tight, streaming blood, resembling a demon, he regained his feet in dramatic fashion, radiating power and fury despite, or perhaps because of, his bloody wounds.

He turned, surveying the battlefield. And then, he spied Eros. And smiled.

Overhead, drones from the various news services were capturing the battle, and streaming it live to the world. They were all focused on the sight of the super hero Eros, taking in the utterly shocking, disfiguring, gory wound to his once powerful chest with chunks of muscle, fat, meat ripped, torn, dangling, the brutal bleeding remains of the right side of the super hero’s face, bones exposed, even catching his right eye nearly torn free from its socket.

And there, not far from him, on his feet, radiating fury and strength, dripping blood, was the steel-muscled form of the notorious Iron Mercenary. It was then that Max Irons finally replied to the pronouncement Eros had made during their battle in the sky.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you Eros, but I seem to be very much alive. You on the other hand… I will kill with my bare hands in front of the entire world. The Dark Order rises, using your dead body as its stepping stone!!”

10:01 Eros: Brutalized and reduced to a mangled heap of torn muscles and broken bones, the hero's massive body was used as a weapon of destruction by his foe, the blood of several soldiers adding to his own. Dangling chunks of flesh on his chest and face would tear even further the more his massive body would slam across machinery, walls and everything in between.

Eros had his knees and hands onto the ground, just trying to stand up seemed like a distant dream. The hero who once charmed the world as a duo along with White Knight, who lived under that man's shadow for decades and who so desperately needed to prove himself, was now in an even worse shape than his former partner.

The hero vomited a great deal of blood onto the ground, some of it spraying from the large hole on what used to be his cheek. Upon hearing the Iron Mercenary's words, he finally got up, but it took everything in him to remain on his two feet. In that moment, that was all he could muster in defiance. Until...

"NOW"

Eros screamed, the mangled chunks of his cheek flapping painfully against one another, blood and spit sent spraying out in front of him. As soon as those words were spoken, the hero's mangled, muscular body fell to his knees. Suddenly, the entire area surrounding the warzone began to tremble. Holes would appear on the ground, swallowing soldiers, tanks and anything in their way, allied or from the Dark Order alike.

This last resort decision had been kept a secret, only the hero and a handful of those in the command of the allied forces were even aware that was an option. Ironically, despite all of his plans and hopes, Eros accepted his fate to sacrifice himself and countless others in order to give the recovering White Knight a greater chance at defeating the Dark Order.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max Irons slowly began to advance on Eros as the mangled superhero, vomiting blood and gore, somehow managed to push himself up to his feet.

He began to smile, slowly, sadistically, flexing his fists, his hard muscled frame blood spattered, yet powerful and unbroken despite his injuries, his eyes radiating hate and dominance. This was it. With the death of Eros, the destruction of the Allied defense force, the seizure of the Allied force’s Central Military Command, who would dare to stand against the Dark Order?

Their rise was assured.

Then suddenly, Eros screamed out “NOW”, his mangled, broken face spewing blood and spit. Puzzled, Max paused for a moment, and then suddenly, all hell broke loose. The ground began to shake violently, the protesting earth screamed in agony, vast chasms suddenly splitting the hilly ground apart, swallowing tanks and groups of infantry.

Max realized that this was some final ploy, some last resort defense employed by the Allied forces in the event the unthinkable happened. A buried tactical nuke? Some other device? He simply didn’t know.

A surge of unimaginable rage began to boil inside Irons as he fought to keep his footing as the earth shifted beneath him. So close… they had been so close. But now was not the time to allow emotion to rule him. He was, first and foremost, a commander, and his first duty was to see to the safety of his men.

Instantly, without any hesitation, he screamed into his earpiece, “ALL UNITS! RETREAT! DANIJEL, GET OUR MEN OUT OF HERE!” The few seconds of warning might be enough to save some of their troops. He judged the epicenter of this violent eruption to be directly beneath his current location, and the Dark Order forces were still on the outskirts of the battlefield, pressing in against the decimated Allied battlegroups. His duty seen to, he could now focus on revenge.

Never in all his life had Max Irons been so angry. Not through all the long dark years of the war to eradicate the Dark Order. Not in all his years of training before. Never. Total success had been within his grasp, and Eros… Eros had stolen his triumph out from under him.

He let out a cry of inarticulate rage, he navigated over the shifting earth to where Eros had collapsed, reached down and seized the superhero’s right arm. His rage lending him unbelievable strength, his muscle flared with a surge of might, he ignored the pain this caused him, as he flung Eros up into the sky, his legs coiling like springs, leaping after the hurtling superhero, who trailed a stream of gore and blood as soldiers below, Dark Order and Allied alike, were swallowed whole by the heaving earth.

He had thrust himself off with so much force that he caught up to the hurtling super hero, seizing his right arm again with his left arm as they tumbled through the sky. He pulled back his right fist, his bicep bulged with power, and with a cry of rage that echoed across the sky, he drove his fist directly for the center of Eros’s ruined chest, chunks of meat and muscle dangling, blood and gore dripping out, he aimed his fist for the hero’s breast bone, intending to shatter the super hero’s breastbone and drive his fist fully through the superhero’s ruined chest, shatter his spine, seeking to impale and kill him violently with his fist.

10:01 Eros: Ruined beyond saving, Eros chuckled as he watched the pure rage coming from Irons. If there was any comfort in knowing that he had failed in his mission for supremacy, at least the infamous Iron Mercenary would die alongside him. For those few seconds, he even warmed up to the idea. Eros would be immortalized as a martyr who saved Earth, who committed the ultimate sacrifice in order to make up for White Knight's failure. Perhaps in death he would finally stand out against his former partner.

"It's too late, Ir-"

The hero's mocking speech was abruptly cut short as his enemy grabbed a hold of his arm and sent his massive, brutalized body flying onto the sky. When Irons reached him and held onto his arm again, both warriors engaged in a short lived scuffle in the sky while the world literally crumbled under them. The overwhelming sound of the earth rumbling was joined by the sound of the machinery being swallowed, as well as the screams of terror of men descending into their doom.

Eros tried to punch Iron's face repeatedly, but there was little precision or strength behind those blows. Suddenly, his entire body jerked as it was brutally impaled by the Iron Mercenary's muscular arm, sending out chunks of gore, bones and a lot of blood onto both men. The hero's pale face was now completely red, his blue eyes bloodshot and watery.

The hero let out torturous breaths, in complete shock as his eyes looked to the massive hole on his destroyed chest, the massive arm impaling it, now covered in blood. Eros blinked before looking up to Irons again. He wasn't simply defeated, he got completely owned by the man, destroyed, torn to shreds.

His free hand that was until then still trying to punch Irons dropped, his entire muscular body going limp. Only the villain's arm held him there, a sickening trophy of his superiority.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: The brutal super soldier was so consumed by rage, he barely noticed the injured superheroes' ineffectual blows to his head. He had only one goal, the complete destruction of Eros. The moment Max’s fist utterly shattered the hero, impaling him savagely, was caught by the news service’s drones, broadcasting the savage blow to the entire world.

At the apex of their plummeting leap now, Max lets out a roar, lifting up his right arm, raising the impaled super hero over his head, gore and blood streaming off of the super hero’s devastated body.

With a quick look below at the battlefield, Max realizes the situation is not as bad as he had first feared. Whatever trap the Allied forces had employed had a smaller radius then he had feared. He could see the edges of the collapsed circle of earth, and beyond them, the remnants of the Dark Order’s battle groups. And yet, the Allied battle groups had been at the very epicenter of the booby trap, and were almost completely destroyed to a man. The vast pit, about a mile in diameter, was full of broken machinery and dead bodies, both Dark Order and Allied forces alike.

But Eros had detonated the booby trap too soon. He had jumped the gun. If he had waited until the Dark Order’s battle groups had fully engaged the defenders, if he had waited until all of the Dark Order’s forces were within the radius of the booby trap, then they would have been destroyed nearly to a man. Max’s quick assessment of the battlefield revealed that about half of the Dark Order forces had been destroyed in the detonation of the device that had swallowed the earth, but at least a third of their forces had survived the battle. A devastating loss, to be sure, but more than enough to capture the Allied Military Central Command.

Max began to smile as the two of them soared over the battlefield. He looked into Eros’s eyes, the super hero’s face was completely red, his blue eyes bloodshot, a look of defeat in those heroic blue eyes.

Then, just beyond the edge of the devastation, Max grunted, his massive quads bunched up with power, and he smoothly landed with a massive impact in the middle of a surviving Dark Order battle group, the limp, impaled trophy of Eros rising above his head.

The news drones hovered, as Max slowly removed his fist from the impaled super hero, lowering him. He stared into the hero’s blank face, surrounded by Dark Order troops who began to cheer. “Look around you Eros.” The cheers of the remaining Dark Order forces were inescapable. “You fucked up again. That is the story of your life, isn’t it? Always one step behind White Knight. Always last to the party. Always in his shadow. Never as good as he was. You detonated your booby trap too soon, too soon Eros. That will be your legacy, Eros. You will be known as the failed superhero who handed Allied Military Central Command to the Dark Order.”

Then, with those final words, as the news drones captured the footage, Max Irons, the Iron Mercenary held the super hero’s body out in front of him, seized either side of his bloody, ruined body, leaking gore and blood and chunks of meat and bits of internal organs, and ripped him in half, tossing the two halves of his body into the gaping pit that had claimed the Allied Defense force along with so many of the Dark Order’s own troops.

10:01 Eros: Tears streamed down Eros' half torn face as he had no choice but to listen to those bitter words coming from the victor. In a matter of seconds, every bit of hope he had was reduced to nothing, as destroyed as his own muscular body had been in their struggle. His eyelids grew heavier as he endured this one final humiliation, one that would outlive himself and would forever tarnish decades of failed attempts to surpass White Knight.

His pale blue eyes, now burning red with shame and anger, shifted between the faces on the enemy's soldiers, their arrogant grins and mocking taunts. Nothing would escape the cameras and microphones broadcasting the scene.

"N-not like this..."

Eros groaked pathetically, his deep nasal voice barely audible as he gurgled on his own blood. Just as they say, his entire life flashed before his eyes in that moment. He remembered those glorious early years as a teenaged superhero, the way he and White Knight earned the love and admiration of millions around the globe. He remembered his bitter jealousy, his failed attempts at tarnishing his partner's efforts and their fights. This was supposed to stand out as his proudest moment, yet it ended in his utter humiliation.

His reverie would come to an end as his brutalized, muscular form was finally torn in half in a gruesome show of force by the Iron Mercenary. His bulging muscles were torn from one another viciously, letting out loud squelching sounds along with the snapping of his spine.

That solidly built lower body, its finely shaped ass and those massive muscular legs were the first to fall onto the deep crater bellow. His intestines were left dangling behind as his thickly muscular torso followed suit, leaving a trail of blood and gore as he fell. He was still alive then, his eyes fixated on Irons' with a terrified expression, as if he couldn't believe in what was happening to him, but was entirely lucid through it all.

In the end, those two halves of what had been once considered an ideal of the masculine physique, was added to the pile of dead bodies and destroyed machinery below. Eros was dead.

10:01 The_Iron_Mercenary: Max stood, looking down into the smoking, gaping chasm, where the two halves of the former super hero Eros landed with soft, squishy plopping noises far below, strewn amongst the wreckage of tortured stone and earth, dead Dark Order and Allied Forces soldiers, ruined vehicles and weapons, as the roaring cheers of the surviving Dark Order troops washed over him.

Grimly, the Iron Mercenary stood, hands at his side, blood continuing to stream out of his mouth and leak from beneath his armortech vest. Pain, agony, and a deep weariness began to rise up within him, the emotions swirling and churning along with the triumph of Eros’s death and the destruction of the Allied Defense Force.

The cost had been high. So very high. Two thirds of their forces destroyed, and much of their advanced equipment raided from the vault lost in the Allied booby trap. A victory, yes, but perhaps a pyrrhic one. Saved only from the brink of disaster by Eros’s incompetence.

He raised his head slowly, the light of the moon streaming across the battlefield as Danijel, encased in a Mark V Battle Suit, smoothly landed just behind him, flanked by the other three elite commandos wearing their Mark V Battle Suits.

Danijel spoke to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Your orders, Max?”

When Max spoke, his words were steel hard and grim, “We take the Allied Central Military Command. Now. Before they have time to react.”

Max’s voice spoke up then, as he sent out a message that was broadcast to all of the Dark Order troops. “At long last, victory is ours. No longer will the Dark Order hide like rats. No longer will the Dark Order exist on the edge of destruction. Thanks to the sacrifice of Piotr, thanks to the sacrifice of so many of our comrades tonight, this battle is ours. Now, I ask you for one more final push. Onwards. Our new headquarters awaits. Central Military Command stands before us. ATTACK!”

With a roar, Max forced his tired body to one more effort, and leapt to the vanguard of the much diminished Dark Order. Circumventing the massive pit that had claimed so many lives, the Dark Order forces streamed around it, encircling the shocked and astonished Central Military Command.

None of the officers and personnel stationed there could quite believe what had happened. Never in their darkest nightmares had they envisioned the Dark Order actually managing to capture Central Military Command.

And so it was that only an hour later, all of Central Military Command, including the heavily damaged National Military Hospital that had recently housed White Knight, was under Dark Order control. In the middle of the vast compound, in a well-manicured garden, surrounded by heavily armed troops, the high-ranking generals and command staff had been taken prisoner, to be used as hostages. Max stood there, breathing heavily, the pain from his re-opened wound growing minute by minute, but he refused medical treatment until this was over.

He addressed the prisoners, and indeed the world, recording his speech to be broadcast to everyone, and most especially, White Knight. “We have here the Allied High Command, prisoners of the Dark Order. Any attempt to attack the new headquarters of the Dark Order, what the world once called Central Military Command, will result in the execution of the Allied High Command. The Dark Order is rising. Our vengeance will not be denied.”

Max knew this was a bold, risky move. Their forces were badly depleted, and despite their advanced weaponry, an all out assault on the Dark Order’s new headquarters might succeed. But Max was counting on the Allied nations to hesitate. Their command structure was decimated, with the capture of the High Command, they would need time to plan and recover, and muster their forces.

And not to mention the fear and panic that was even now spreading across the Allied nations as millions of citizens had watched Eros get torn in two, watched the capture of the impregnable Central Military Command by the Dark Order, an organization they had been assured was destroyed.

But most importantly, the Allied nations would wait for White Knight to recover before they attacked. They would naturally put their hope in him to save them all. Max chuckled. That was what he was looking forward to. It was a gamble, and a huge one, but the Dark Order could not afford half measures, and already they were making plans for their next move.

Just then, the sun rose over the horizon, as Danijel hoisted up the flag of the Dark Order to brazenly fly over what had been, until today, the impregnable heart and center of the Allied nation’s defenders against the Dark Order.

Published: 2023-04-13, viewed 59 times.