[Hogun POV]
As my troops and I moved block by block through the burning ruins, we encountered more of them—soldiers, half in shambles, with gear torn and expressions hollowed by chaos. Ursus... yeah, that was their name, right? Arknights lore had mentioned them. I think. Sort of authoritarian? Brutal? Well, these poor guys looked more like survivors than aggressors.
They were pinned down behind a flipped APC, firing bolts at a Reunion patrol. James was the first to speak, lowering his rifle.
[James]: Orders, sir?
I stepped up, raising one hand.
[Hogun]: Hold fire! We're on your side!
I shouted.
One of the Ursus soldiers peeked out—bleeding, terrified. Then his eyes widened.
[Ursus soldier]: They... they're with us!
He yelled, disbelief clear in his voice.
We dragged them out—seven in all, barely able to stand. Mastiff shielded them with his bulk as Logan's squad swept the street ahead. One of the soldiers, a grizzled lieutenant with a cracked visor, looked me over like I was a ghost.
[Ursus lieutenant]: Who... who are you?
[Hogun]: I'm GeneralHogun.
I said, trying not to grin.
[Hogun]: And we're getting out of here.
He didn't question it.
With them in tow, we moved fast. Logan's runners scouted ahead, feeding back reports through radio crackle. Shadowy13 kept overwatch, tagging snipers before they even knew we saw them. James directed troop formations like this was real. And Mastiff? Mastiff tanked an entire caster platoon blast and just kept walking.
My HUD was still dead. No menu. No ping lag. No jank. The blood on my armor hadn't despawned. That last Reunion freak I cut down had cried out.
Too real. Way too real.
But I kept going. I didn't stop pretending to be the General. Because maybe I wasn't pretending anymore.
We reached the edge of what looked like a park. A wide plaza with shattered fountains and scorched trees, wrapped in smoke and the sounds of distant gunfire.
[Hogun]: This is the place?
I asked, turning to one of the Ursus.
He nodded shakily.
[Ursus soldier]: A lot of civs were trying to regroup here. I heard Reunion's leadership... something big's going down.
Of course it is, I thought. Because whoever made this mod apparently wanted to recreate the damn Chernobog invasion down to the minute.
I looked around at my soldiers—real or not, they followed me without question.
[Hogun]: Alright, boys,
I said, raising my blade, the edge still dripping.
[Hogun]: We're not just getting out. We're punching through and taking anyone with us who can still walk.
I smiled again, firelight dancing off my helmet's visor.
[Hogun]: If this is a prank, it's one hell of a setup. But fine—if they want me to play the General, then I'll give 'em the full show.
And with that, we marched into the fire.
[3rd Person POV]
The park had become a battlefield of fire and smoke.
Pinned behind collapsed stonework and burning barricades, the Doctor and Amiya kept their heads low. Rhodes Island Operators, outnumbered and stretched thin, returned fire where they could—bolts of Arts and arrows loosing into the encroaching Reunion forces.
Mephisto stood confidently atop the cracked steps of a broken memorial, his twisted smile sharp as his voice echoed across the park.
[Mephisto]: Sing louder! Drown them in the aria of despair!
His orders summoned yet another wave—Reunion squads charging with blades raised, flames at their backs. The trap had sprung perfectly. Rhodes Island was boxed in.
Until—
Crack. Thud-thud-thud.
The whine of engines. Metal boots pounding pavement.
From the eastern treeline, a blindingly fast blur cut through Reunion's flank. Cloaked in digital camouflage and shrouded in smoke, Logan's runners moved like lightning, cutting down enemy scouts before they could react.
Then came Mastiff.
The ground trembled as he and his melee team slammed into Reunion's front line like a living tank. His massive frame absorbed spellfire and steel alike. Behind him followed rifle-bearing troops in strange, heavy armor—none of them Sankta, and yet all wielding firearms with practiced precision.
Their tactics were coordinated. Brutal. Efficient.
Reunion lines buckled.
Amiya stared in stunned silence as the masked figure at the head of this new force calmly strode forward. His long white cape billowed behind him, dirtied by ash and blood. His black uniform was unfamiliar, and in one gloved hand he held a gleaming katana—not a ceremonial blade, but a tool sharpened for war.
He moved with horrifying grace, breaking a Reunion soldier's arms with a twist, then shattering their neck with a snap. The others around him cheered with grim discipline.
"General!" they called. "Sector secure!"
[Hogun]: Dare to go against this General with such meager strength? Who gave you permission to stand?
Mephisto's smug grin faltered for the first time.
The Doctor's eyes narrowed behind his hood. Ace, next to him, spoke.
[Ace]: Those soldiers... They're not from any known faction.
Amiya turned to him, her voice shaky.
[Amiya]: Doctor... that man... he's not Sankta, but those are real guns.
[Dobermann]: They shouldn't exist, an army like that doesn't belong to any known force, but they do.
Suddenly, a bolt of flame flew toward the Rhodes Island position—intercepted mid-air by a sniper's shot that burst the spell mid-cast. A single green-glinting lens flashed in the distance—Shadowy13 had found his perch.
The tide was turning.
Bodies of Reunion soldiers littered the stone paths. Fires hissed as sprinklers kicked in from shattered pipes above.
Hogun strode forward with unhurried confidence, black boots crunching on scorched brick. In his left hand, he casually swung the decapitated head of a masked Reunion fighter, blood trailing like ribbons behind him. His right hand rested on the hilt of his katana, still wet with combat.
[Hogun]: Well, look at this—if it isn't the infamous face of Rhodes Island. Donkey ears and all.
His gas mask hissed faintly as he stopped, casting a mock bow toward Amiya and the Doctor.
[Hogun]: Name's Hogun. General Hogun. Proud leader of these fine men and women. Heroes, actors, psychos—depends who's writing the script.
Amiya stepped protectively in front of the Doctor, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and caution. Behind her, Ace and Dobermann stood tense, weapons half-raised but uncertain.
From atop the steps, Mephisto's smile finally cracked into a snarl.
[Mephisto]: How dare you ruin my fun?!
He threw out his hand, letting the caster platoon aim their magic at Hogun—but paused as Hogun lifted the bloodied head in his grip, waving it slightly like a macabre puppet.
[Hogun]: Hey. Midget. Respect your elders. Didn't Faust teach you that?
A whistle came from above.
Perched on a collapsed tower arch, Shadowy13 leaned into view, one knee up and sniper rifle relaxed across his lap. With casual glee, he lifted Faust's unconscious body—and used the man's limp hand to wave mockingly at Mephisto.
[Shadowy13]: Say cheese~
Mephisto froze. His pupils shrank.
[Ace]: ...That's Faust. Alive.
[Dobermann]: Not for long if they keep treating him like a puppet.
Amiya's breath caught in her throat.
[Hogun]: Now, since you're all in this 'event,' I assume I'm supposed to play my part, right? Well then...
He straightened, sweeping his katana down in a dramatic arc as he turned to his men.
[Hogun]: James! Logan! Secure the perimeter. Mastiff, get those civilians through the portal. We're not leaving anyone behind. This is our war now.
The captains barked their orders and moved, soldiers scattering with precision.
Hogun turned back to the Rhodes Island crew and raised a hand in greeting.
[Hogun]: I'll play your little game, whoever's watching. But just know—General Hogun doesn't play to lose.
He gave Amiya a thumbs-up.
[Hogun]: And don't worry, donkey ears. You're cute enough to live.
[Hogun POV]
I stared at the kid—Mephisto, that smug little freak—with his hand still pointed at me. Faust was slumped over Shadowy13's shoulder like a sack of failure.
I grinned behind my mask.
[Hogun]: Now, midget... If you want your little wife back, pull your forces out. Or you'll learn why Shadowy13 has a '13' in his name.
Shadowy13 gave a lazy two-finger salute from above, green-glinting scope flickering like a predator's eye.
Mephisto's rage boiled across his face. His teeth clenched. He hissed something under his breath and snatched Faust's body back into his grasp, ordering a full retreat. The Reunion mob hesitated—but then obeyed, dragging their wounded and snarling curses as they melted into the shadows.
[Hogun]: Smart kid,
I muttered, sheathing my blade.
I turned to look at Amiya and the rest of her team. Spot on. Ace, still alive. Dobermann, just as intense. Hibiscus clutching her staff like a lifeline. Spot and Beagle, armor scraped but eyes alert.
Just like the game. Just like the files I studied. But this.
[Hogun]: Damn, Just who's skilled enough to make a mod this real? Even the sound of that brat's footsteps matched the in-game audio compression.
I faced them again and gave a mock bow.
[Hogun]: Let me introduce myself again—General Hogun, leader of these fine soldiers, and your protector until you're out of this city alive.
I saw Amiya flinch slightly, unsure if this was still a game to me or not.
[Hogun]: Relax. I've already sent my fastest—Logan and his runners—to your other operators. If anyone can snake through the chaos of Chernobog, it's him. They'll be fine.
I pointed at the shimmering blue portal behind us—still open and crackling as civilians were ushered through it under James's squad cover fire.
[Hogun]: Now, if you're done gawking, let's move. Civilians don't escort themselves, and we're on the clock.
I turned, boots splashing through blood and ash as my cape swayed behind me. My gas mask hissed softly with each breath. Still no HUD. No ping. No logout button.
[Hogun]: Damnit, at least let me have my HUD back, you loony psych anime-addicted otaku trash!
I turned slightly to see the Rhodes Island operators and even some of my soldiers staring at me like I'd just sprouted a second head.
[James]: Ah... General, are you okay?
I exhaled hard through my filter, pinching the bridge of my nose beneath the mask.
[Hogun]: No, James. I am most certainly not okay. We are in the middle of a burning city full of armed lunatics and exploding buildings, surrounded by dead civilians and trigger-happy maniacs with machetes. The citadel—which by the way is supposed to be a military fortress—has a damn line of refugees outside like it's a bakery, and someone thought it'd be funny to reenact Escape from Tarkov with real consequences.
I jabbed a gloved finger at him, theatrically frustrated.
[Hogun]: Also, the uniform I spent a full year making? Ruined. Blood on black fabric. Do you know how hard it is to get arterial spray out of Kevlar-lined satin blends?! I had custom stitching!
James stood silently for a moment. Then nodded solemnly.
[James]: Understood, sir. We'll get the name of the blood donor and file for dry cleaning.
A beat of stunned silence passed before Mastiff let out a low, metallic chuckle. Even Amiya blinked—confused, concerned, and just a little impressed.
[Hogun]: And worst of all—we still don't know who Mr. Mystery Enemy is! We've got Reunion maniacs, city-wide lockdowns, a portal that I definitely didn't script, and someone pulling strings hard enough to make the sky bleed and still no damn tutorial boss to hit with a sword.
I turned away again with a dramatic sweep of my coat. This is going to be a long day.
[Chapter end]