ARC 1 - RECRUITMENT DAY
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| Golden Hound Elias Rook |
Chapter 1 - The Wolves of Iron Reign
At the heart of the Wasteland are two powerful groups. The Free People are loud, patriotic survivors farmers, mechanics, scavengers, and workers who keep the nation alive. Beneath their rough attitudes, many secretly dream of peace. The Soldiers of the Iron Oath are colder and feared across the wasteland: elite protectors raised to defend humanity at any cost. Among them are the Heavy Metals, deadly mech pilots who fall from the sky like living tanks, and the Steelborn, emotionless super-soldiers engineered to become perfect weapons.
This is not a story about heroes or villains. It is a story about survival in a world where mercy is rare, war never ends, and humanity may already be losing itself.
The Iron Wolf Battalion is one of the deadliest special operations units in the United Wasteland. Known simply as “the Wolves,” they are deployed into impossible war zones where survival is measured in seconds. Their enemies fear them not because they are unstoppable machines, but because they fight like a family protecting the last light of humanity. Every member is dangerous. Together, they are legendary.
The city of Valkyros never truly slept.
Even before sunrise, the industrial heart of the United Wasteland thundered with life. Steel factories roared beneath smog-filled skies while colossal transport rails carried armored freight across the megacity like moving fortresses. Giant propaganda screens flickered across skyscrapers of rusted metal and black concrete.
JOIN THE IRON OATH.
HUMANITY STANDS TOGETHER.
THE WASTELAND ENDURES.
Military aircraft screamed overhead through layers of smoke and gray clouds.
Below them, tens of thousands of civilians crowded the massive central recruitment plaza.
Today was Recruitment Day.
For most cities in the United Wasteland, recruitment drives were simple military ceremonies.
For Valkyros, it was spectacle.
Rows of Soldiers of the Iron Oath marched in perfect formation across the enormous steel parade grounds. Black combat armor gleamed beneath floodlights while enormous Iron Reign banners snapped violently in the cold morning wind.
Children sat on their parents’ shoulders.
Teenagers pushed through crowds trying to get closer.
Vendors sold ration food beneath giant statues of Steelborn war heroes.
At the center of the plaza stood the reason most people had come.
The Iron Wolf Battalion.
The Wolves.
The deadliest special operations unit in the western continent.
To civilians, they were legends.
To enemies, they were nightmares.
And standing at the front of the elevated recruitment platform was the man the people loved most.
Elias Rook.
Golden Hound.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly heroic-looking beneath polished silver-marked combat armor, Elias looked less like a super-soldier and more like something ripped from old-world mythology. His long military coat moved gently behind him in the wind while pale morning light reflected across his assault rifle slung casually over one shoulder.
Messy blonde hair.
Calm blue eyes.
The kind of face propaganda departments prayed for.
The crowd adored him.
“Young men and women of Valkyros,” Elias said calmly into the massive speakers surrounding the plaza. “The Iron Reign does not ask for fearless people.”
His voice carried naturally across the square.
“It asks for people willing to stand beside each other when fear comes.”
The crowd erupted into applause.
Several recruits near the front looked completely mesmerized.
A teenage boy beside the railing whispered to his friend:
“That’s Golden Hound…”
“No wonder he’s famous.”
Elias smiled faintly.
Not arrogantly.
Genuinely.
Behind him, Kael Mordren looked physically offended by the entire event.
Viper leaned lazily against a supply crate near the rear of the stage, arms crossed over lightweight black stealth armor lined with hidden weapons. His pale face carried the usual crooked smirk while glowing red cybernetic lines around his eyes flickered faintly beneath the morning haze.
“You know,” Kael muttered loud enough for nearby soldiers to hear, “if propaganda had abs, it would look exactly like him.”
A nearby officer coughed awkwardly.
Elias ignored him professionally.
Kael continued anyway.
“I’m serious. Look at this crowd. Half these kids are joining because they think Golden Hound’s gonna personally tuck them into bed at night.”
One of the younger Soldiers of the Iron Oath tried not to laugh.
Tried.
Failed immediately.
Elias sighed.
“You done?”
“Not remotely.”
Kael scanned the crowd lazily.
“Also, statistically speaking, at least six future war criminals are probably in this audience.”
“You’re helping recruitment morale tremendously,” Elias replied.
“I try.”
Further behind the main platform, away from the cameras and applause, Lucien Vale quietly knelt beside a frightened little girl who had scraped her knee trying to push through the crowd.
Unlike Elias and Kael, Lucien looked completely out of place among the Steelborn.
Slim.
Smaller.
Younger.
His oversized dark military coat hung loosely over narrow shoulders while soft black hair partially covered tired gray-blue eyes.
No giant armor.
No dramatic weapons.
No commanding presence.
At first glance, he looked more like a medic assistant than someone attached to the Iron Wolf Battalion.
“You’re okay,” Lucien said gently while cleaning the child’s knee with a medical cloth. “You just fell.”
The little girl looked up at him nervously.
“…Are you a soldier too?”
Lucien hesitated slightly.
“Sort of.”
The girl stared at him curiously.
“You don’t look scary.”
From nearby, Kael immediately shouted:
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s horrifying.”
Lucien visibly wilted.
“Kael.”
“What?” Kael shrugged innocently. “Honesty builds trust.”
Elias rubbed his forehead.
A nearby officer approached Lucien quietly.
The moment he noticed who Lucien was, his posture changed almost instantly.
Subtle.
But noticeable.
Respect mixed with unease.
Even fear.
“Ghostlight,” the officer said carefully. “Command requested your presence near the eastern security checkpoint later today.”
Lucien nodded softly.
“Okay.”
The officer left immediately afterward.
Fast.
Kael watched him go with amusement.
“See? That one practically sprinted away from you.”
Lucien frowned faintly.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s the problem,” Kael replied.
Before Lucien could answer, the plaza suddenly shook beneath a deafening mechanical roar.
The crowd gasped.
Then cheered.
The Heavy Metals arrived.
Massive armored mechanized suits descended into the center arena on pillars of blue thruster fire. Steel giants nearly three stories tall landed hard enough to crack the reinforced ground beneath them.
The audience erupted into excitement.
Children screamed in amazement.
One mech stepped forward carrying a rotary cannon the size of a transport vehicle.
Another deployed hovering drones from its shoulders.
A third activated massive energy shields while military announcers described battlefield capabilities through giant speakers overhead.
The Heavy Metals represented the industrial might of the United Wasteland.
Walking weapons platforms piloted by enhanced combat engineers.
Where Steelborn were monsters made human
Heavy Metals were machines made war.
The demonstrations began immediately.
Railguns thundered across the testing range.
Missile batteries launched into distant armored targets.
Combat drones swarmed overhead like steel insects.
The crowd loved every second of it.
But behind the spectacle
there was tension.
Everyone felt it.
Even civilians.
Because the world had been changing lately.
Trade routes from the southern deserts had vanished.
Entire outposts along eastern oceans had gone silent.
Rumors spread constantly now.
Black temples rising beneath desert storms.
Cities disappearing overnight.
Winged creatures sighted over burning villages.
And one name whispered more every month.
Baalania.
The southern continent of black fire and fanatics.
Officially, the Iron Reign denied most rumors.
Unofficially
the military had tripled recruitment.
Kael watched the cheering crowds carefully now.
For once, his smirk faded slightly.
“You can feel it, right?” he asked quietly.
Elias looked toward him.
“The tension.”
Lucien slowly stood nearby.
Far above them, beyond the clouds
something moved.
Tiny.
Burning.
Almost invisible.
Lucien stared upward longer than the others.
His expression changed slightly.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like something deep inside him suddenly became uneasy.
A cold wind passed through the plaza.
The giant Iron Reign banners snapped violently overhead.
Then the city warning sirens began screaming.
Every soldier in the plaza froze instantly.
The sky above Valkyros ignited.
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