WARNING! This is my first time posting a fanfic, and a product of about an hours work. This is really just a teaser of a series i am currently working on. But i must warn you, it might be a while until you see the first real entry.

I am a military guy, and well... I have been wanting to do something like this for a while. This is pretty much more for myself than it is for other people. But hey, if you like it, go ahead and comment and tell me so, and don't be afraid to criticize, and for a matter of fact, PLEASE DO SO. This will help my writing abilities, and hopefully making it more enjoyable for not only myself, but for you, the reader.

Chapter X

I watched the sun rise on the horizon, its orange majesty shimmering off of the sea. I watched in silence, not wanting to disturb the moment. I had always wanted to watch the sunrise on the ocean, something I couldn't do at home, in Saskatchewan. The mountains were pretty and all, but this… this was something else.

A dark black object suddenly blocked my view of the golden wonder, and I wondered what it was. It took me a few moments to register what it was.

A helicopter.

I recognized it immediately, and I shot back into reality, remembering where I was. I was riding in a UH-60 Black Hawk, flying to a city in an area known as Unova by the locals. I looked around the interior of our chopper and I was sitting directly across from Marquez, our combat engineer, and my friend. I saw Simmons next to him and Barnes next to me. Marquez hailed from California, where he grew up in Los Angeles. Simmons was from Ireland, and Barnes from Australia. But there was also Rowe, Booker, Davis, Giuliani, Snippy, and finally Sarge. But they were on the other side of the seats. We were to get inserted in on the outskirts of the city known as Castelia City, and fight our way in, taking the city at all costs. This wouldn't be too difficult for such a tough outfit, the 5th Airbourne Division, and we would have the city by Sunday.

I looked out of the chopper to see a fleet of black hawks and Chinooks flying, sharing the same destination as us. The mighty fleet of choppers had to be at least a hundred strong, and not only that, I could see AAV AMTRACs bobbing in the water, undoubtedly carrying their precious cargo of Marines. The little bobbing tanks outstretched for miles, leaving hundreds of wakes in the formerly peaceful sea. A squadron of F/A-18 Strike Eagles and F-22 Raptors flew over our birds and headed straight to the city, which was well within view.

Smoke columns rose from the skyline, outlining the skyscrapers, or what was left of them. We were getting closer. We flew nearer to the city and when I could just start to make out individual objects and cars, I saw a bolt of lightning shoot out from somewhere in the city towards a helicopter only a few dozen meters away. The lighting struck the aircraft, which promptly caught fire and began spiraling down, with no sense of control. I saw men getting thrown out it, on fire, plunging to earth. I shot back into my seat, looking at the ceiling to avoid watching the helicopter go down. Our chopper shuddered under some sort of impact, I looked at over at my fellow soldiers, and saw that Simmons trying desperately to buckle up his harness, and next to me Barnes was mouthing some sort of prayer. I looked over to Marquez, who had grabbed hold to an overhead bar, and I did the same. We sat there as the helicopter jolted and jostled under us from explosions, each man praying to their respective gods. A hoarse, southern drawl from a man who has seen too much came out loud over our radios.

"Here we are men… in hell itself."