DB Multiverse

The large ships had mobilized under a sky smothered by a sallow grey.

Further down, on land, a moving swarm was crawling as large cluster illuminated by an impressive number of green and red shining lights rung with more or less important explosions. Long plumes of smoke flew to the assault of the clouds that darkened the sky.

The faint growl of battle could be felt even among the troops entering the atmosphere. A few stray energy blasts would even sometimes penetrate the shields surrounding each vessel.

Within the units gathering within the trenches while waiting further order was a young solider - levitating thanks to a gravity device included in his gear - trying to keep his teeth from chattering, looking upon the activity unfolding on ground level with anxiety. A sergeant approached him, visibly intent in reassuring the boy:

— Are you gonna be alright out there, son?

The young man stiffened upon hearing his superior's voice, regretful that his fear could be so easily perceived by the higher-ranking soldier. He answered, stuttering:

— Y-Y-Yeah… N-N-No… No p-problem… I-I-It… It's all good!

The man kindly pat the back of the young solider while speaking to him in a sympathetic tone:

— Don't fret it, boy… We've all been through this. It's a natural thing to be scared shitless the first time.

He pointed to himself with his thumb.

— As you can see, even I'm a little scared…

He turned to a group that mostly consisted of sturdily built fighters further back.

— They're all crapping themselves inside, too. The only difference is, they have the experience to tame their fear, to make it an ally. Fear isn't your enemy once it's under control, it may even save your life.

He then nudged to another group, the one at the head of the ship.

— Well, maybe not them. Some can just live without it.

The young soldier looked at the men the sergeant had referred to. Their combat armor was visibly different from his. Those were the Ultras.

— Yeah, but… they're not like us, are they? I mean, those are the Ultras.

A faint smile could be seen forming on the sergeant's face as the man realized he had more or less distracting the rookie from his fear.

— Don't go thinking they're superhuman or anything. They aren't invincible, nor are they immortal. They bleed and die just like we do… they're just stronger… in their heads!

The young man frowned.

— "In their heads, in their heads"… I'm sure those armors are in their heads, too!

His superior scowled.

— They have more than earned what they have that we don't. For that matter, it so happens that some of the candidates that passed the preliminaries can't handle the real thing, it has even proved fatal for a few.

The young man found himself compelled to sigh in agreement:

— I know. But still, I'm no push-over… and yet I don't have the slightest chance of even passing the first preliminary requirement to access the Ultra program.

The sergeant looked back at him with a smirk.

— That's what I told you… "In their heads"! That's what makes the difference between you and them. You won't even try to pass the first prerequisites, while they made it possible for themselves… Do you know what I'm saying now, son?

The young man was pensive.

— So, it would just be a matter of tenacity?

— Without a doubt, tenacity has a part to play in it… but still, you probably need other things going for you to begin with, said the sergeant, trying not to make thing seem too easy.

Look at Wigner, over… Oh right. Do you know them all?

The young man frowned a little more.

— Of course I know them! Everyone does! They're the Ultras, the greatest among the greatest!

The sergeant nodded, reassured.

— Yeah, of course. So about Wigner, I know from reliable sources that he passed each of the preliminary steps like it was child's play, a breathing prodigy!

— They all are! growled the young man.

— I wouldn't be so sure. For instance, Led had to start the program over several times. But he didn't let up until he actually made it.

— To think that there are girls who made it. sighed the solider.

A large man left his group to partake in the conversation.

— Heheh… I see your eyes are turning to Feyn, boy… What a gal! We were actually part of the same unit before she made the Ultras, and believe me when I say that girl wasn't afraid of nothin'…

Then in thunderous laughter, disturbing the boy's balance with a hard smack on the back, he added:

— Or of anyone, if you catch my drift!

Now a little more aware of his surrounds, the hulking man whispered, adding his own disappointed aside:

— I never did get to hit that bitch!

Keeping the tone on a confidential level, he continued:

— One word of advice, if you manage to even get close of her, don't even think of laying a finger on her ass.

— And be on the lookout for Waals'! chuckled the sergeant.

The large soldier then took a more serious expression:

— The guy doesn't deserve his poor reputation, he's actually one of their best.

The sergeant retorted, lifting his finger the emphasize the validity of his point:

— Well, it is the reputation he'd made for himself!

The tall soldier growled:

— Yeah, but in any case, that's not what rumors say!

The sergeant would not back down:

— So? He wouldn't be the first to go on both sides of the fence!

— Honestly, I could give a damn less about who he does his business with in bed. From what I see, he's no pansy on the battlefield! grunted the soldier to seal the argument.

Having completely forgotten about his previous fear, the young soldier was suddenly getting in the heat of the conversation.

— That is true… I once saw him in an unarmed combat tournament and he completely wiped the floor with Bragg!

The eyes of the large soldier began to shine as his eyes were starting to lose themselves in reminiscence.

— Yeah! I was there, too. We know that Bragg is no pushover, anyone else would have backed out in front of him, but Waals… a real killer, that guy!

— A tournament pitting all the Ultras against each, that would awesome! softly said the rookie, fantasizing all of a sudden.

The sergeant seemed as though he wasn't there, either.

— We all want it to happen… at least, from word of mouth.

The mention of a tournament turned the large soldier euphoric:

— I'm placing all my bets on Waals!

— Hah! What a loser! He wouldn't even hold a candle to Wigner! retorted the sergeant.

The rookie had his own favorites in mind:

— And Dirac… can't forget about the herculean Dirac!

The nearby group the fray to place their own bets.

— I would bet everything on Feyn. That chick is just insane, she would annihilate the competition!

— No way! Waals would destroy your wannabe girlfriend! added another.

The large soldier further added in agreement:

— No contest!

— I say Wigner would have it in bag! affirmed another soldier, immediately countered by one of his comrades.

— As if! Bragg has that class, the real kind!

Yet another came to his favorite's support:

— Wrong… Lidar… now that's a real fighter!

As the hypothetical bets were going off, distracting the garrison from the anxiety that precedes battle, the subjects of the exchanges had assembled around Wigner.

The impressive voice of Dirac sounded as he scanned the heavens:

— Peculiar… so far, nothing shows that they're trying to stop us from making our entrance.

— You've been told that they're concentrating their manpower on a ground invasion. They must not have had enough resources left to deploy chasers, grumbled Led.

— Or maybe they just got tired of seeing us bringing their aerial fleet to ruin, added Nim, playful as ever.

The head of the Ultras reigned his team in:

— In any case, we could care less about how or why. You would all do better to concentrate on our mission. As we expected, the front is rather vast.

Lidar slightly tipped over to the side to look at the impressive cluster of brown bordered by a thin orange line beneath his feet.

— "Rather vast", aren't you being a little modest? That's the entire Kollok population, right there!

A malicious smirk formed on Braggs lips.

— Well then, I don't see any reason for you to complain. This way, we can completely eliminate the problem without having to be the evil plundering invaders.

Wigner authoritatively continued:

— For now, we should be focused on being as effective as we can possibly be. We'll split up to create several opening for our troops, starting by taking out tanks.

Bragg ruffled Bose's hair in gesture that seemed a bit fatherly.

— You'll see, kid, it'll be fun… their best men are always going after us anyway, no need to go look for them!

The leader frowned.

— Even if we do outclass them, the Kolloks are born killers, and not just harmless beasts for us to toy with. Their numbers are what make their strength. Don't forget to stay vigilant, the slightest mistake will be paid for severely. So, we make sure to stay within range of each other, and we all cover the two that are at our sides.

He pointed to the two youths of the group.

— Fuller and Bose, this is your first real battle for the both of you, be sure to stay in between two older members…

He then gauged the battle unfolding below.

— I'll the extremity of the left flank, one of you two could be at my right. Waals, I entrust the right to you…

Nim intervened with a wink to the one in question:

— And I'll be at your left, sweetie!

— Aw, please don't do this to me, Nim… I was counting on Lidarpoo to have my back… protested Waals, sounding convincingly distraught.

— Go fuck yourself, Waals! grumbled Lidar.

Waals was ready to retort, but Wigner dryly interrupted him:

— Not now, Waals!

— Damn… you're really not funny sometimes, you know that Wigner? grumbled the happy camper.

Dirac interrupted the conversation:

— This, however, is pretty funny! These clowns really seem to believe they'll be able to pierce the battleship's force fields!

All turned to see about thirty Kollok warriors ready to assault the ship who light rights were starting crackle on the ship's shield.

— I can't believe this… These losers are still using those outdated propellers! commented Bragg.

— What? You didn't notice they have to pedal their way to get all the way up here? added Waals, without even laughing.

Fuller, who was consulted the the immaterial monitor in front of his eyes, was surprised upon noticing the heavy equipment attached to the backs of the Kollok warriors and the tubes that seemed to relay the weapons on their forearms to storage tank which also encompassed their propulsion.

— Without their lasers, their equipment would be borderline antique! he analysed.

Feyn then performed a twirl mid-air with ease.

— That is pretty far behind our anti-gravity devices and photon propulsion systems, she said.

— You should still watch your back, kid. Their strength lies in their numbers, and they are far from being softies! growled the massive Led.

— Yep, don't expect to find half pints within those Kolloks. That's what makes their charm! exclaimed Waals.

Without warning, he flung himself into battle against the group of assailants. His trail was marked by tiny sparks that were extinguished with split-seconds.

— There here goes again! That's Waals, alright! commented Nim, sighing.

— Well, I'm going to lend that little shit a hand! declared the imposing Dirac, starting up.

Bose was about to go after them, but Bragg stopped him with a move of his hand:

— Don't bother, two of them is more than enough. If you go too, Waals is going to give us shit for that.

The shots were concentrated, though vainly, in Waals' direction, who was flying straight towards the group of Kolloks.

An opening presented itself at the very instant he'd reached the the force field. Positioning his left arm in front of him to shield himself, he suddenly created an elongated and curves screen that was shaped like a shield. Though the lasers would hit the seemingly fragile transparent layer, they only seemed to melt upon reaching it.

And within an instant, he was at the heart of the mob, before he reduced his immaterial shield to violently strike the two closest Kolloks.

Despite the difference in size, the sheer force behind that blow sent the two colossal warriors flying away.

The following instant, after turning around in a swift twirl, Waals generated a small shot, thanks to the openings on his gloves' fists, that was sent to the dorsal propulsion systems of the next two closest warriors. They both exploded the next second!

The Heloïte then deviated his laser shots in the direction of his wrists upon which would form two small shields. An immaterial screen would then form in front of his eyes, a visor. He then held his right arm, fist clenched, to fire at will.

From the three small orifices on his gloves suddenly sprung out salves of laser shots, each of which hit a Kollok. Each soldier hit dropped like flies under the fire of surgical precision.

During this time, Dirac sprung out at the center of the mob. Behind Waals' back, he grabbed the heads of the Kolloks with his massive hands to have them crash against on another. The next moment, he had within his fingers the top lid to their propulsion system as flames were spewed from the dismantled contraptions. The two soldiers then fell, screaming all the hundreds of yards that separated them from the ground.

Dirac deviated the shots that were aimed at him thanks to his wrist-guards before annihilating the five remaining Kolloks on the side with a powerful ray with a split-second.

As hellfire slowly dispersed aroud the soldiers he had just killed, Dirac turned around to seek other targets. But already was there none left. Waals' had just impaled the last remaining warrior, shooting him at point blank range.

— You know, you could have left a few for me to work with! shouted Dirac, his eyes fixated on the falling Kollok.

Waals winked back at him, pointing to the ground.

— Don't worry, hun'… There's plenty left where that came from!