USSF Camp - South of Diablo's Base
Outside a scorched town, multiple military camps had encircled the entire area. The presence of tanks, helicopters, and infantrymen created an atmosphere reminiscent of a war zone.
The scene was filled with a sense of tension and urgency as the military forces established their positions, prepared for any potential conflicts or threats that may arise. The desolation of the town, coupled with the formidable display of military power, painted a stark picture of the gravity of the situation they were about to confront.
But despite the formidable military force surrounding the area, there was an unexplainable hesitation and fear among the people present.
None dared to cross the five-kilometer radius surrounding the town, as if an invisible force warned them of the impending danger that lay beyond.
---
Inside a green modular military-grade tent, a makeshift office had been built, serving as the temporary residence for a high-ranking officer from the United State Supernatural Force.
The tent provided a semblance of privacy and functionality amidst the chaotic environment of the field. Within its confines, the representative conducted crucial meetings, reviewed mission briefings, and made critical decisions that would shape the course of their operation.
"Colonel Jackson, everything is ready," a man wearing a green military uniform saluted sharply as he entered the premises.
It was evident that the man held deep respect for his superiors , not only due to his rank but also because of his power. Jackson's status as one of the few Rank SS supernaturals in the USA garnered him immense recognition and reverence.
He was not merely a high-ranking officer; he was akin to a living, breathing secret weapon for their nation, possessing powers and abilities that surpassed the ordinary. The classification of Rank SS supernaturals, shared by only few elite members of the USSF, held a level of significance comparable to that of a nuclear submarine.
It symbolized the immense power, capabilities, and potential impact these individuals wielded. Their abilities, honed through extensive training and natural gifts, made them a formidable force, capable of turning the tide in critical situations.
"Alright, order everyone to assume their respective positions," Colonel Jackson responded, his voice tinged with weariness. He had been reluctantly assigned to this mission to eliminate a Rank SSS demon, and it had left him with a sense of hesitation.
As a powerful individual himself, he was well aware of the significant gap between the ranks of SS and SSS. Despite the seemingly minor difference of a single letter, he understood that reaching the status of Rank SSS was an extraordinary feat that went beyond mere effort or hard work. It was a level of power and skill that only a chosen few could attain.
So only fools would underestimate the power of a Rank SSS demon.
"Roger, Colonel," the man saluted sharply, demonstrating his respect and obedience. With a swift turn, he spun to carry out the Colonel's orders.
As his subordinates departed, Colonel Jackson sank back into his chair, feeling the weight of the mission bearing down on him. He reclined, allowing himself a moment of rest to contemplate the immense challenge that lay ahead.
"Those damn politicians and officials ," he sighed in frustration, his tone laced with disappointment. He was well aware that the USSF had the resources and manpower to tackle this mission more effectively.
The fact that they had only sent him, despite having a total of four Rank SS , left him feeling exasperated. It seemed that political considerations had influenced the decision, resulting in an understaffed operation that would undoubtedly increase the difficulty and risk involved.
"Those greedy bastards are a bunch of ignorant fools,"
---
"Hey, did you hear the news? I heard that this will be the final attack against that demon?," one voice exclaimed eagerly.
"Yeah, it's about time," another voice chimed in, expressing a sense of relief. "We've been holding this place for a long time already."
"I think the Vatican is going all out this time," a third voice added. "I heard they've sent two Rank SS operatives."
In the midst of the dark night, the atmosphere was filled with a buzz of anticipation and excitement.
The chatter among the individuals revealed their shared expectation for the imminent battle against Diablo. The stakes were high, and the news of a final attack fueled their resolved . They had been rooted in this struggle for months, holding their ground against someone that could only be described as monstrous .
Now, as they prepared to face Diablo, a combination of hope, resolve, and readiness permeated the air, setting the stage for the upcoming clash.
However, amidst the camp filled with brave souls ready to sacrifice their lives for the greater good, an individual with malicious intent stealthily made his way in. His presence went unnoticed, shrouded in darkness as he moved silently.
"Hey, who are you?"A military personnel's words echoed when he noticed someone unfamiliar entering his tent.
"What the hell are--"
SWOOOOOSH
But Before he could finish his sentence, the infiltrator swiftly closed the distance, moving with incredible speed. The next moment, the intruder appeared behind him, sinking its teeth into his neck. A shudder ran through the victim as his life force was mercilessly drained, leaving behind nothing but bones and skin.
THUD
Executing his plan, the vampire made sure not to overlook any details. With precision, he tore the face off the dead man and donned the stolen military uniform.
In his possession, he had an artifact crafted by witches specifically for disguises. However, this artifact required the actual skin of the face he intended to imitate.
Placing the torn face over his own, the transformation began. Slowly but surely, the face merged seamlessly with his own, altering his appearance completely. His once distinctive features were now replaced with brown hair and big blue eyes, a complete transformation that rendered him unrecognizable.
"I need to dispose of this body," the vampire sneered coldly, his hunger satiated after the gruesome feeding. Breaking the dead body into pieces, the vampire ensured that no traces of the ghastly act remained. Since the corpse had been drained of blood, it was easier for the vampire to fit the dismembered remains into a bag, concealing the evidence of his heinous act.
"Hey, John, Colonel Jackson has already ordered us to move to our designated location," a dark-skinned man entered the tent.
"Alright, Let me just finish fixing my things." John replied, his expression nonchalant. He swiftly closed the bag, concealing its contents.
"Don't be late. If we succeed tonight, we can finally go home," the dark-skinned man chuckled, his voice laced with a hint of expectation. The weight of his mission and the prolonged time spent away from his loved ones had taken its toll on his spirits. The prospect of successfully completing the operation and returning home evoked a sense of optimism and renewed energy from him.
"Succeed? I'm afraid that everyone here will be buried tonight, including me," John muttered under his breath, his words dripping with malicious intent. A horrifying smirk crept onto his face, revealing a sinister side that went unnoticed by the dark-skinned man, who had already turned away.
"You will all serve as mere stepping stones for our great leader,"
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