"Nukes. And lots of them.
We always knew in the back of our minds that we'd have to use them on our own world if we were to save it, but I still can't get around the fact we vaporized D.C. to keep the demons at bay.
Every day that passes sees humanity more and more on the brink of obliteration. That said, we've managed to secure some intel that gives us a glimmer of hope when it comes to our species' survival.
In short, we've got the opportunity to get behind enemy lines—as in, off the planet—and sow chaos amongst their ranks. And from there, who knows? Taking out the Demon King is probably too much to wish for. But if we can find Kate's lost Seventh Fleet, a space-faring race looking for revenge, they could very well be the only allies able to save us.
One thing at a time. If we're going to survive, let alone succeed, we've got to stay focused.
As far as Earth is concerned, this is my final mission update, since further communication will be impossible.
This is Captain Isaac Williams, Force-Recon, signing off."
"November 14, 1944: I wax a German ace. The next morning, it's March 10, 1942. Confused? Welcome to my world.
I have no idea how this happened or what the hell is going on, other than the fact that the airfield I found belongs to the 2/81, an all-female fighter squadron operating near Marseille, France.
I've managed to befriend a few of the pilots since arriving. One even thinks I might find some answers if I can track down some witches in the region. Like actual, magic-brewing, curse-slinging witches. The catch is, no one is quite sure where they are, and apparently, they live in woods teeming with the most nightmarish abominations you could ever dream of.
But before I can get to that, I've got to teach these girls how to survive in the skies because I'm going to need some of them to vouch for me.
Easier said than done.
All the girls here are rookies. Worse, they're dogfighting a Luftwaffe ten times deadlier than the one I ever knew back in 1944.
Things look bleak, but I think I can turn things around for all of us. If not, I'll definitely die trying."
"It's been seven days since the demons invaded; seven days since they set the world on fire and put humanity on a fast track to extinction.
Now, the girls and I are shooting across a war-torn landscape in our Black Hawk, headed for what's left of Reston, Virginia. Our mission: Retrieve vital intel buried somewhere deep behind enemy lines—intel we're going to use for one hell of a world-wide counterattack.
I'm hopeful we can pull this off, but I'm not delusional. The enemy will outnumber us by the millions the moment our boots hit the ground, which practically guarantees some or all of us won't be coming back.
Suicide mission or not, we've got to try. We've got to take back our planet while there's still something left to take back.
Mission update to follow. Standby for the next transmission at 2100 hours.
This is Captain Isaac Williams, Force-Recon, signing off.
Warning: Yeah, this book has a harem warning. If you're not sure what that means or aren't old enough to vote (i.e. be 18+), you should move along, otherwise the lack of fade-to-black, ensuing relationships, and language contained within might offend your sensibilities."
"GSW - a.k.a. a gunshot wound - back to front. That's what landed me in Sophie's operating room after a black op went to hell.
After I bled out, she 'volunteered' me for Project Angel, a top-secret program determined to revive KIAs with alien tech. I became their first success. Fast-forward to Armageddon: Demons are everywhere. Bodies even more so.
After some intense fighting, we've reached the hospital where she worked. The place looks grim, but I'm not about to stop searching for the angel who saved my life. And by we, I mean myself and another girl I met—a girl who's literally out of this world. Once the three of us are clear, we're going to put together a team to go after high-priority targets so we can save our planet and end this war once and for all.
Details to follow. Standby for the next transmission at 0300 hours.
This is Captain Isaac Williams, Force-Recon, signing off.
Intended for mature listeners due to the lack of fade-to-black, ensuing relationships, and language that might offend some sensibilities."
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