The Chronicles of Mike Boone

[Darkshifter98]

I think i jizzed a little...

// Thats... slightly disturbing...
Glad to see I made you... jizz... I guess XD

[The Joke]

Moar? 

[Darkshifter98]

// Dun worry, I'm still working on them, but I've run into a slight bump regarding what happened in Outlands long ago, so I'm asking around about it.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbwjA0UWWZQ" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbwjA0UWWZQ</a>

Chapter 3: The Outlands


Day 16: Vortal Meeting


Feb. 2016


Location: City 45 Outer Canals

It had been a long while since Boone had written in his journal, friends have died, went missing, or worse. He walked down the dark tunnel, alone with his hands in his pockets, he turned the corner, he wasn’t paying much attention until a loud growl caught his attention. He looked up, seeing a snarling antlion guard, he slowly took his hands out of his pockets, hoping that the beast hadn’t, by some miracle, had not seen him yet. The guard let out a vicious roar, it reeled back, and charged forward, its claws sending dust from the road flying behind it, Boone tensed, and waited until the guard was fairly close, he then dived out of the way, scrapping along the road against his arm, he watched as the antlion charged past him, and rammed into the concrete wall, a sickening crack was heard, and on the wall was a spider web of cracks. Boone quickly stood up, sprinting out of the tunnel, he saw another tunnel in his view, with two, iron double doors to his right. He grabbed a hold of both handles, and pulled back on them forcefully, they didn’t budge, and Boone cursed loudly at his unlucky nature. He turned back to the tunnel, where the guard was just walking out of the tunnel, shaking its large head from side to side. Boone looked franticly around for an escape route. The antlion must of noticed him, because he could hear the aggressive growl to his left. The only escape route Boone saw was in front of him, over a railing into the canals below. He heard claws against concrete, and loud, angry puffing starting to get closer. He broke into a full sprint towards the railing, and vaulted over it, he felt the vertigo as his feet got closer and closer to the mud below, he landed on his feet, stumbling and falling face first in the mud. He picked himself up, dusting some of the mud off his jacket and his pants. He looked at the ground, seeing an arrowhead shaped head on the ground, he looked up, and saw the antlions head as it searched for Boone, but it must of been too stupid to look down. Boone smiled, baffled that the antlion couldn’t see him. The antlion turned, and trudged else where. Boone took the chance to run, limp rather down the canals, where he remembers a small facility like area that could protect him from the antlion.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyMZycKzpNs" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyMZycKzpNs</a>

 He slowed to a stop as he arrived at the ladder, he climbed up slowly, stopping at the top to do a 180 turn, and land on the metallic walkway, he had a strange feeling about the shelter ahead, but he shook the feeling away, and walked down the walkway. He entered the dimly lit room, where a few refugees were sitting around, he turned to his left, and quite nearly shit his pants, it was a green alien being, with smooth skin and a hunched back, with two claws on each of its “hands” and hooves for feet. Boone made a quick breath, and he unslung his MP7, aiming it at the alien being. The being must of heard him, because it turned, and its four red eyes focused on the barrel of his MP7. The alien merely scoffed, showing no fear, at least on the outside, of the weapon being aimed at it. Boone could feel himself shaking, but kept his aim on the being. The alien didn’t bother with small talk, and instead brought it’s claws together, a green aura being brought into them. Boone pulled the trigger, the MP7 making an audible *click!*, signaling that the gun was empty. Boone slowly lowered it, looking down at it, and mumbling a soft curse word, as he took a few nervous steps back, slinging his weapon, he put his hands in front of him, pleading to the creature “Pl-please, I-I..” The creature merely shook its head, bring its claws apart, the aura being turned into two separate strips as it pulled its claws apart, like gum when you stretch it out, it then brought its claws forward. “Please, no!” Boone pleaded, but the creature released a green stream of energy into his torso, and then everything went black.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RccLY1xWPz8" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RccLY1xWPz8</a>

He awoke a short time later, lying in the mud of the place he once was, he stood up, feeling groggy. He heard noises from above, like gun shots of sorts, he saw a boxes stacked a top each other, Boone quickly ran behind them, and instead ended up toppling over them, making quite a racket. He put his hand on his forehead, trying to stop his head from spinning, when he saw a vested male on top of the walkway, he gestured for Boone to come up, Boone pushed a box off him, standing up slowly, he ascended the ladder, and reached the walkway. He felt as if he had seen the walkway before, the man gestured him to follow, Boone did so, and walked back into the dimly lit room. He saw the citizens sitting in the same spots, they gave him weird looks, he tried to figure out what was going on, he turned to his right, and saw the creature, thats when it came flooding back to him. He took a step back, and turned to a bald male who was watching the creature, Boone leaned in, “I-its on our side, right?” The man looked at him, and nodded. Boone face palmed, feeling idiotic for nearly shooting someone on his own side. The man gave a slight smile, waving him over towards the creature. Boone walked behind him, and slightly shook as the creature turned, and realized who Boone was, he gave a slight glare, but didn’t do much else. The man explained how what had happened between him and the creature had been a mere mis-understanding. The creature stood quietly, listening to the man. When the man finished, they both turned to him, in which Boone confirmed what the man said, finishing with “I-I really am sorry..” The creature lessened the intensity of its glare, “If it wishes to prove its apologetic, it shall have to do so, at another time..” The creature said with a deep, scratchy voice. The creature turned, and headed towards the door. The man gave a shrug, and said “Gotta start somewhere.” Boone nodded, taking a seat on a couch. The men talked for a bit, the fighting raging outside. He heard something against the door, and then saw the door fly into the stove, scrapping against the ground as it rest on the ground, burnt and destroyed. Boone looked to his left, and a three legged creature sprang out of the darkness, the creature was covered in a turquoise shell, and pale white skin could be seen through the small cracks in the armor. It turned to face him, the compound eyes focusing on him, it let out a flurry of sharp projectiles, two stuck to his chest, and exploded. Boone fell to the ground behind a desk, the others received the same. He crawled along the ground as they were being fired at, he only managed to get to the walkway, before the creature kicked him off the ledge, on to the ground below. He landed hard, things go black for a bit. He saw a pair of hands reaching for him in the darkness, and then felt himself being dragged into the light, then he slipped into the darkness. 

[wag1]

Just amazing Dark, I really love it.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl5xbFXrFU4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl5xbFXrFU4</a>

Chapter 3: The Outlands


Day 17: 28 hours later...


Feb. 2016


Location: Outer Canals, somewhere in the sewers

Boone’s eyes fluttered as he felt a shearing pain rip through his skull, he pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling a quick and sharp pain ripe through his spine. He grimaced, sitting up to find himself on a stretcher. He was in some kind of sewer tunnel, a few lights spread around, with a large pipe going through the room. Boone groaned, getting slowly to his feet. He ducked under the pipe, and stepped into the cold and dirty water of the sewer. His feet sluggishly moved down the tunnel as the water made rhythmic noises below him. He held his arm, which felt rather sore. He stepped up into a metallic pipe, pulling himself in. He stepped out into the light, hopping down onto the wet soil below. He looked up at the blue sky, he popped some of the bones in his neck, before walking to parts unknown.

"So thats what being dead feels like..."
-Part of journal entry 17 of Mike Boone's journal

 

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4</a>

Chapter 3: The Outlands


Day 18: The need for speed


Feb. 2016


Location: City 45 Outer Canals, near Warehouse #2

Boone limped down the empty street, an ocean of dust went up to his ankles, obscuring anything below it. Boone held his arm as he walked, grimacing with each step as a sharp pain rocked through his chest from an encounter with an antlion. He saw Warehouse #2 in his view, quickening his pace as he slammed on the garage button, the garage door slid open, he staggered inside, coughing from the dust from outside. He slammed the indoor button, and put his sleeve over his mouth as the garage door closed behind him. After blinking the dust out of his eyes, he saw a red jeep in his view. He straightened up, walking, half limping to the parked jeep, sitting in the warehouse, collecting dust. He ran his hand along the frame, which showed clear signs of dust. He let out a soft whistle, amazed that a vehicle like it was still around. He stopped when he heard the garage door open behind him. He turned quickly, to see a Vortigaunt standing in the doorway peacefully. The Vortigaunt stepped inside calmly, pressing the button to close the garage door as it came to inspect the vehicle. He looked up at Boone, all four of its “eyes” focusing on him. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, before the creature spoke in a deep and scratchy voice. “Greetings..” It said calmly. Boone nodded. “Hey..” He said with a false calm. The Vortigaunt turned its attention back to the vehicle, then back at Boone, raising its eyelids at him in confusion. Boone looked at the Vortigaunt, then the jeep, and said “Its a vehicle... used for transport..” Boone said slowly, feeling suddenly low of breath. “Transportation...?” The Vortigaunt questioned. “You humans are very strange...” Boone nodded his head numbly, when the sound of a Hunter Chopper flying over broke the silence.

Without thinking, Boone unslinged his MP7, slapping a magazine inside, and quickly flicked off the safety. He quickly took cover behind a rack of boxes, the Vortigaunt did the same, hiding behind a rack of boxes opposite him. The Vortigaunt put it’s claws together, and a green energy started to glow within its claws, glowing a vibrant green. Boone grimaced, taking a syringe from the breast of his jacket pocket, he twirled it in his fingers, jabbing quickly into the hole in his chest from an Antlion attack. The Vortigaunt raised its eyelids, before putting it’s right claw out, releasing a calming flow of energy, instead of a sudden crack of energy, into his chest. He felt a soothing sensation as he ripped the needle out of his chest and onto the floor, he then felt the pain go away all together. He ripped off the large bandage that was on his chest, and saw skin replacing the bloody maw that was the wound. He looked towards the Vortigaunt in amazement, nodding his thanks, he checked to make sure his MP7 was loaded, as footsteps were heard from outside. The garage door slowly opened, Boone appeared out of the corner of the boxes, MP7 raised, the garage fully opened, only to reveal another unarmed refugee. Boone sighed, slinging his MP7 on his back. The Vortigaunt powered down its energy, before walking up to the man. Boone sat in the dusty drivers seat of the jeep, he looked at the key slot, only to find it empty. Probably why it was collecting dust in the warehouse. Boone let out a sigh, bringing out his journal, he took out his pen, and wrote in it about his recent adventures.

“Found a jeep, and a new friend...”
-Part of journal entry 18 of Mike Boone’s journal   

 

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uamh1l_tmeI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uamh1l_tmeI</a>

Chapter 3: The Outlands

Day twe- *The next couple of pages are ripped out of the journal, or too covered in mud and sewage to make out*

// Basiclly, I've been falling behind with this so I decieded to time skip to when Boone found the mountains.
Chapter 5: The Mountains


Day 34: Late Arrival


2017, January


Location: Romania Mountains

The wind blew against the grass softly, the wind whistled as it made its way through the leaves, the leave started to fall and followed the wind on its airborne journey. The leaves floated high above the mountains, making only the occasional whistle. The leaves started to dive low, as if dive bombing, towards a man hole. A metallic grinding broke the silence, the man hole twisted to the right, and popped open, it flipped over and banged loudly on the ground, it echoed throughout the mountains. Boone appeared out of the manhole, the cluster of leaves fluttering over his head. Boone climbed out of the smelly manhole, covered in sewage. He adjusted his Overwatch helmet, so that he could better see out of the optic. He unslung his Spas 12, looking around the barren road. The road was un-naturally empty, the only noise being the wind blowing through the trees. Boone walked forward, a chill running up his spine as a gust of wind made its way into what little remained of his City 7 jacket. He made the short climb up the road, turning to his left and climbing over a knocked over fence. He made his way through a small forest before finding a mountain path that lead to a brilliant lake, the lake was so quiet and untouched, the water seemed to look like glass. Boone noted the location of the lake for later, so that he could hopefully wash his things later. He walked down another grass hill, scanning the terrain below, he made his way into a small river that went up to his knees, following it up stream. He turned and stopped for a moment to admire a waterfall that let off a slight steam as it hit the ground before continuing up stream.

He climbed out of the water, his legs pale white from the water. He looked up, through his single optic, he saw a large path that went up towards a large mountain, he could just make out a fence at the top of the mountain. He started to jog up the mountain, adjusting his helmet every couple of feet, in the hopes to find something that he hadn’t seen for months, actual human life. He turned a corner, and saw a large gate in front of him, he slowed to a stop, panting. In the distance, an electric generator hummed, and the sounds of insects zipping around filled the air. He exhaled, walking into the gate, his Spas 12 held in his hands tightly. 

“I’m so glad to be out of the sewers, I found what seems to be a bunker. Hopefully someone will be inside, and hopefully they won’t try to kill me...”
-Part of entry 34 of Mike Boone’s journal

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGXV1c7VcG0" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGXV1c7VcG0</a>

Chapter 5: The Mountains


Day 35: A little heart to heart..


2017, January


Location: Romania Mountains, by the Alliance Bunker

Boone walked through the opened doors slowly, looking about the small interior of the base. Some beds were to his left, where some patients lay. He looked around, seeing some Alliance emblems scattered about. He slinging his Spas 12, walking to his right into a walkway with a crossroads. He turned right, into a room that seemed to be for recreational purposes. He saw a young vested male playing a guitar, and a few refugees surrounding him. There was a TV in the room, and no one was using it. What is wrong with people. He thought as he strolled to the “TV couch”. He didn’t find any remote of any kind, so he sat against the back of the couch and listened to the music. The vested man laughed, he saw his face for a moment, and it struck him as familiar. He got up, circling to the back of the couch, getting a better view of the man. It finally struck him that the man was none other then Zak Grant, a member of the group none as ‘Civiwatch’. He laughed again, and asked loudly “Any requests?” Boone leaned forward on the back of the couch, adjusting his helmet. “How about you play Turn the Page by Metallica, Zakky.” Zak stared at him in disbelief. He got up, putting his guitar down, walking over towards him. He laughed nervously, mostly because he had a vest and an OSIPR. All he had was a USP match and a Spas 12. He got right into his face, his face reflecting off the optic of his helmet, Which was a dark red instead of a glowing red, because the helmet was powered down. “..What, bad nickname?” He said with slight nervousness. He stared into his optic, and said “Only one person calls me that...” He seemed to be thinking for a moment, when his face brightened. “Boone!” They both laughed, sharing a manly hug of manliness. They continued to laugh as they let go of each other, Zak was the first who got off his laughing spell. “So, where you been, I didn’t see you in the convoy.” Boone sighed, remembering that day when everyone evacuated. “I had to go through the sewers, I was lucky I made it out alive!” Zak smiled, patting him on the back. “Well, welcome back, Booney.” He chuckled, walking out the door. Boone chuckled as well, leaning on the couch, with the refugees from earlier giving him a weird look. It was either from the helmet or the scene between him and Zak. He deepened his voice, so that it would sound almost like a Combine vocoder. “Lookin’ for trouble?” He said menacingly towards the staring refugees. They shook their heads, they scrambled and head for the door. Boone laughed, thinking that wouldn’t work.

“Found the Alliance bunker, and Zak. Oh, the times we’ll have...”
-Part of journal entry 35 of Mike Boone’s journal.

[The Joke]

//Man hug of manliness like a boss! Cannot believe you remembered our conversation from when we met again

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4</a>

Chapter 5: The Mountains


Day 36: Picking up the trail


2017, January


Location: Romania Mountains

Boone blinked open his eyes, rubbing away the gunk that rested inside them. He looked around the dark room, it was the sleeping quarters of JURY. He looked to his right, his helmet lay next to him, watching him with its watchful red optic. He was about to pick it up, when he noticed a slip of paper resting on the top. He picked it up, his hazel eyes sparked, like a flame about to start when he began to read the note.

“Dear Mr. Boone
We understand that you have been looking for a certain someone, Mike Daring. We have some information that you can’t afford to pass up. Meet our contact at the edge of the Romania Mountains, he’ll be on the large cliff that borders it. We hope to hear from you soon.
-A friend."

By the time he finished reading it, he threw it to the ground, slipping on his helmet and throwing his hood over it. He quickly got to his feet, racing out the doors. He raced out the gate, Zak Grant stood walking towards him, a cup in his hand. He looked up, his eyes slowly widening in surprise as Boone came rushing towards him. He opened his mouth to speak, when Boone rushed into him, putting his hands on his chest, and pushed him violently out of the way, with a fierce “Out of my way!” He tumbled to the side, the cup shattered on the ground, and the liquid bleed over the concrete surface. He raced out of the great double doors of JURY’s base of operations. By the time Zak got out of the doors, Boone was already at the bottom of the mountain.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNnhEOQZ2ME" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNnhEOQZ2ME</a>

Boone took large steps as he scaled the rest of the mountain, all that stood in his way was a large expanse of green hill. Earlier he had climbed painfully slow, being careful to grasp every foothold in the hopes he wouldn’t fall, possibly to his death. He emerged over the top of the hill, nothing was in front of him, except for a figure dressed in a pitch black cloak, the wind pushed the cloak to the side, which revealed black boots, probably worn by Civil Protection, on his feet. He turned as he heard his footsteps approaching him, he wore a black mask with a black hat on the top, the mask had a long, pointed black beak, and the optics looked like something from a gas mask, except polarized, so the eyes of the man behind them couldn’t be seen. Boone stopped a yard away, and the man turned fully to face him. He held out a piece of paper, it was folded neatly. Boone took it out of his hand, and unfolded it. It read:

“Your dead, courtesy of The Watchers.”

He looked up, to see a USP match aimed at his face. He lashed out with his right arm, he grabbed onto his wrist, wrenching the pistol out of his face. The pistol fired, shooting up a hole of dirt behind him. He grabbed onto his wrist with both hands, and delivered a swift kick to the face. Despite the mask, it didn’t offer much protection. The man fell to the ground, the pistol falling to the ground. Boone walked over towards him, kicking the pistol down the edge of the mountain as he approached, drawing his own USP match, which was much more worn. The man looked up, hurriedly backing up on his hands, using his feet to move back as well. He stopped when he reached the edge of the mountain, which lead to a fall to his death. Boone aimed the pistol at the man’s face. He put his hands over his face, “P-please...” He begged. “D-don’t kill me...” Boone stood his ground. “I want information on The Watchers. Now.” He said in a cold tone. “W-we keep watch on citizens, loyalists, refugees, you name it!” “I-I was hired to assassinate you, b-because you were getting a little out of hand, l-l-looking for a loyalist and all.” Boone took another step forward, the pistol clenched tightly in his hand. “Tell me where I can find them!” The man shook in fear, and cried out. “City 7! They’re down in the sewers of City 7!” Boone nodded, and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet that pierced through his skull. The man simply fell back, a pool of blood already beginning to surround him. Boone reached down, taking a note out of the man’s breast pocket. It was all of the details about him, regarding an order to have him dead. Boone grumbled, pushing the dead body over the edge with his foot. He slide his USP match into his holster, and turned to take the journey back down the cliff.

“I think I’ve started to pick up Darings trail, there’s a group calling themselves “The Watchers”, holed up in the sewers of City 7. I’ll start there, since they seem to know so much about me, they might know where Daring is. Besides, I’d like to go back to City 7 again...
-Part of journal entry 36 of Mike Boone’s journal

 

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9ocAUQnNdE" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9ocAUQnNdE</a>

Chapter 5: The Mountains


Day 37: Silent farewells


2017, January


Location: Romania Mountains

Boone tugged on the strap of his backpack, securing it onto his back. He looked back at the bunker, feeling sorrow wash over him as he turned back towards the dirt path that lead down the mountain. He lowered his head, letting out a soft exhale. He gave his backpack a final tug, before setting off down the mountain. He pinned a note onto the board in the social room regarding his leave, he left it primarily for his friend, Zak Grant, or anyone else who cared. (// If this doesn’t work, feel free to post here, JURY, or who whom ever controls the bunker) He knew he couldn’t say goodbye to anyone in person, they either wouldn’t care or they would urge him to stay, he just couldn’t have something like that on his mind. He looked down at the ground as he walked, not making eye contact with any refugees as he walked. He hadn’t said good bye to anyone because he didn’t want to attract any un-wanted attention, either from The Watchers, The Pact, or a new group he had just heard about, The Cathedral. Something interrupted his thoughts as he heard a cackle echo across the mountains as he entered the tunnel. He slide his USP match out of his holster, keeping it gripped in his right hand. He felt a slight pang of regret as he realized he hadn’t spoke to that one girl, Sophia, he remembers overhearing. He wasn’t sure if her feelings for him were just fear, curiosity, or something much deeper.. something Boone didn’t want to get involved in. He shook his head grimly, thinking it may have been for the best if they hadn’t spoke. For all he knew, she was lying dead in a hole somewhere, the thought made him shudder. He emerged into the light of the valley, looking to his right as he began the climb to Belles town. He stopped at a manhole that was built into the road, he holstered his USP, looking around for something to pry it open. He looked to his right, to see a red and black crowbar lying on the ground. He bent down, scooping it into his hand. He dug the hooked end into the spot between the concrete and the manhole covering. He grunted as he gave a swift push, the manhole covering popping open. With a final effort, he used the crowbar to throw the covering off the hole, it clattered loudly on the concrete next to the hole. He sat down on the edge of the hole, sliding down and landing on the first rungs of the ladder, his head poking out of the hole. He reached forward, and pulled the manhole covering over his head.

“Alright, lets find The Watchers...”
-Part of journal entry 37 of Mike Boone’s journal

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLmKxAiKM2A" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLmKxAiKM2A</a>

Chapter 6: City 7


Day 38: Farthest from home


2017, Present-day October


Location: Below the streets of City Seven, ‘The Rat-ways’

The tunnels were empty, devoid of life. The sewage rushing through underneath the city was the only sound that one could hear in the Rat-ways. The sewage ripped through the tunnel, a torrent of trash and garbage mixed with dirty water. A single citizen walked along the walkway, he casually looked into the ripening torrent, when a movement caught his eye. Something began to move towards him, a small bump amongst the waves of sewage. The man stopped, freezing in his place. The bump began to grow, grow into something sinister. It revealed a blue shaded head, the color of a citizens jumpsuit, steadily rising out of the sewage. As it rose, the head was seen to be a hood, attached to a torn and dirty jumpsuit. The creature’s arms rose out of the sewage, grabbing onto the edge of the walkway and pulling itself up, right next to the dumbstruck man. The man looked over the creature, only to find that it was a man, his hood obscured his face, and he was coughing into his arm. The citizen slowly unfroze, when the man looked towards him, and instead of a face, a single red eye was staring back at him, surrounded by a dark, sinister green. The man rose from the ground, and as the light struck his face, it became obvious he was wearing a Overwatch elite helmet, painted green. The citizen shook like mad, beginning to run, when the man grabbed him from behind, pinning him to the wall and jamming a USP match into his forehead. “Please...” The citizen begged, tears beginning to roll down his face. “I-I don’t want to die...” The man holding the pistol spoke in a low voice, but it was kept stern, despite the man’s pitifulness. “Answer me a question...” The citizen stood silent, nodding his head through the tears, staring straight into the red optic. “The Watchers... where can I find them?” The citizen seemed to think for a moment. “B-but if I t-tell you.. I-I could die..” The citizen stuttered. The man leaned in, increasing the pressure on his head. “But if you don’t tell me, you’ll die now.” The man’s voice grew more threatening. “Make a decision.” The citizen finally cracked, shaking like a leaf as he told him. “I-its just under the train station! N-now pl-please! Let me go!” The man relaxed the pressure on his forehead, pushing the citizen away. “Get lost.” The man said, walking the opposite direction, before disappearing around a corner.   

Boone slide the USP match back into his sewage-soaked jacket, shaking his arms of the loose sewage. That was disgusting, Boone though to himself as he made his way through the sewer. He began to hear footsteps overhead, looking up, he saw the soles of peoples shoes as they walked over the metal grates. He stepped back, seeing the train station a few feet away. He continued forward, stopping at a three-way intersection, when a loud wooden ‘Snap!’ from above put him into alert. He looked up, hearing the metallic clatter of Overwatch equipment. The soles of black boots walked directly over his grate. One of the boots stopped, freezing for a moment. Boone quickly took cover in the shadows as the Overwatch elite looked down the grate. It held a large sniper rifle in its hands, and had a red hand-print on the front of his helmet. The elite dismissed what he thought he saw, and went to catch up with the other Overwatch. Boone breathed a sigh of relief, moving into the path to his right, leading directly underneath the train station. He walked forward until met by a door, he lightly knocked, adjusting his hood to obscure his face. A slot in the door opened, and a rusty voice spoke from the other side. “Whats the difference between a CP and a human?” The voice asked. Boone smiled, answering the question. “CP’s aren’t human.” The slot closed, and the door open, revealing a large man wearing a dirty jumpsuit. “Make yourself at home...” He gestured inside, Boone walked past, turning towards the man. “Where can I inquire about hits?” “Put in a ticket and someone will come to see you.” The guard replied. Boone nodded, going towards the bar, and finding a small box that dispensed tickets. He grabbed one, with the word ‘Serving’ and ‘77‘ written below it. Lucky Sevens, Boone thought. He held his ticket in his hand, sliding into an empty table, and began his wait.

“Now, we wait...”
-Snippet of Journal entry Thirty-eight

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK5EXzOxY8Q" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK5EXzOxY8Q</a>

Chapter 6: City 7


Day 39: Hostile Negotiations


2017, Present-day October


Location: City Seven, the local Rat-way bar

Boone sat quietly in the corner of the bar, an unopened whiskey sat in front of him. He never really did get into alcohol, but he kept it there to not arouse suspicion. His fingers lightly drummed against the beaten, wooden table as he sat in wait. A bell rung at the other end of the room, the sign changed to “Now serving number: 77“ He stood up, ticket in hand, letting his free hand slide along the wooden table before leaving it as he approached the wooden door next to the sign. He twisted the handle, pushing forcefully on the door, and closing it behind him. The room around him was fancy, for someone who lived in the sewers, with an old, rotting wooden desk and a torn leather chair. A heavy-set man sat in the chair, his hands folded on the desk, like a mob boss out of a mobster movie. He would have to be careful around this one. Boone threw his ticket on his desk, easing into a small office chair across from the desk. He kept his head low, keeping his face hidden from the man. The man cleared his throat, speaking in a raspy voice. “So, who do you need hit?” Boone kept his head low. “Actually, I need information.” The man nodded. “We sell that too.” Boone stood, sliding his USP match out of his jacket, pointing it down towards the man. He looked up, his helmeted face clearly shown. The man blinked in astonishment, before quickly regaining his composure. “You must be Boone.” He nodded, keeping the sidearm aimed at his chest. “Then you know what I want.” It was the man’s turn to nod. “Information on a Mike Daring, correct?” Boone stood still, before nodding. The man reached down, pulling out a drawer, and slide a pile of colorless pictures paper clipped together towards him. Boone, with his free hand, reached for the photos, inspecting each one. “Your friends been busy.” The man began. He looked at the first picture, on the bottom right corner was “City 8“ imprinted into the photo, it showed Daring walking down the street with a loyalist armband. “He failed his first application, but got lucky on his second.” Boone slide the picture out, viewing a picture of him against a wall being tied by a CCA unit outside the Nexus, this picture being labeled “City 11“.
“Why is he being tied up?”
“Its what they do to Interviewees before, well, interviewing them. Standard procedure I guess.” The man shrugged, Boone slide the picture out, revealing another in City Eleven. It showed a CCA officer walking down the street with another CCA officer, they both held stunsticks in their hands and had new uniforms. “The one on the left is your friend, although from what we hear, his name now is Two-oh-three.” Boone shook his head slowly, almost fearing to view the next picture. The man behind the desk stared at him, boring a hole through his skull until Boone just grew so desperate to break the awkward silence that he viewed the next picture. It showed a busy city plaza, City Forty-five’s judging by how it says “City 45“ in the corner, there were citizens walking the streets, with a unit wearing a worn uniform guiding a tied citizen into the nexus of that sector. “Thats your friend, sending someone to their doom.” Boone shook his head, tossing the photos onto his desk, the colorless photos spreading across the desk. “Latest intelligence suggest that he’s stationed here.” The man added, before standing up, sliding his hand under his desk. “Now that you have what you need.. I’m going to call the guards in here.” Boone only hesitated a second before the words registered, he aimed his USP match, aiming for the base of the man’s neck. The man looked up, completely frozen, not of fear, but almost as if he expects him to do something. Boone started to feel himself breath heavily, before he began to speak. “You want to keep your brains inside your head I’d chill out.” The man sighed, easing back into the large chair. “Maybe we can strike a deal.” He said calmly. Boone nodded slowly. “Go on.” The man stood, sliding his fingers along the desk as he slowly walked around it. “We’re planning a small operation, that could, if pulled off correctly, liberate the citizens of City seven.” He turned towards him, his eyes cold and serious. “I need someone like you.” Boone stood silent, allowing him to continue. “We’re planning on sending a small strike-team into the citadel, while the Combine are busy taking them out, we’ll strike from the outskirts of the city, making our way in, and then pulling back to kill any stragglers.” Boone hesitated, before asking. “..What about this 'Strike team’.” The man sighed lightly. “They’ll probably end up dead..” His fingers drummed against the desk. “Thats where you come in.” He looked up towards him, his fingers drumming against the desk.
“The current leader I have for this strike team is insane, an absolute crazy. With him as the strike team leader, they’ll obviously get killed quickly.”
“Let me guess, you want me to lead this squad?” He nodded. “With you as the leader, you’ll have a much higher chance of survival, although casualties will still be high, and you could probably get something done.” Boone nodded slowly. “If I refuse?” The man shrugged casually. “My guards come in and splatter your brains all over the wall.” Boone hesitated, before answering. “I’ll do it.” He grinned. “Excellent, I’ll remove your bounty so you aren’t shot at by your own guys.” Boone slide his USP match back into his jacket, relaxing. “Your barracks are room number seven, get comfortable.” Boone nodded lightly, before exiting, heading around the bar towards the numbered rooms, stopping at seven. He pushed open the door, looking around at a couple of refugee’s, just as dirty as he is. He slide into a bunk, feeling now wasn’t the time for chit-chat, considering how exhausted he was. He slide out his tattered journal, with the red “7“ covering the front, it was his only place to voice his thoughts to. He slide out a pen, beginning to write.

“Okay, recap.
Found City seven, managed to sneak my way into this bar, and got to talk with what seems like the guy who runs things around here, atleast in City seven. Daring’s part of the CCA now, and a damned good cop from the looks of it. So now, I’m offered, more like forced, to carry out a near-suicidal mission to the Citadel. I guess I’m better then the leader they had, so now I’m leading this op. Daring, oh, sorry, “Two-oh-three” is stationed here too, so hopefully I can talk some sense into 'em. My ‘squad mates’ are telling me that this Op starts in about a weeks time, so I have a good enough time to get ready. Haven’t gotten to know ‘em yet, but I’m afraid of meeting the ex-squad leader. Actually, I’m afraid of this whole mission in general. But I might aswell have a chance to survive rather then just being shot in the head by some two-bit thug. I’d better get some rest, I’m exhausted from having to swim upstream a sewer. Eughh.”
-Part of journal entry 39

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jB2D7P_fEf4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jB2D7P_fEf4</a>

Chapter 6: City 7


Day 40: Truth, Regret, and Mercy


2017, Present-day October


Location: City 7, Rat-way barracks room Number 7

Boone sat on the bottom bunk closet to the door, his legs hanging idly off the side the bed, he stared at the small scribbles of words in his journal. Re-reading his journal reminded him of how innocent he once was. Over time, he had grown close to many people, and had seen them die right in front of his eyes, he suddenly saw Rick’s face, just seconds before he was impaled by an Antlion Guard, his drunken eyes wide with rage and fear. He then began to remember the people he hadn’t been there for, the people who probably wouldn’t have died if he were there. His thoughts flashed to Samantha, imaging her being overrun by a squad of Overwatch. It sickened him, both the Overwatch for killing such an innocent woman and the fact that he wasn’t there. Innocence lost, he thought as he tucked the journal back into his jacket. He looked down at his hands through the blood red optic of his helmet, when a shadow loomed over him, darkening his hands. He looked up, into the eyes of a man wearing a resistance vest, his hair black and wavy, but it came out in different strands and almost had a fuzzy quality to it. His eyes were wide, almost with rage as he stared Boone in the eyes. Boone stood up, facing the man. The other members of the team began to take notice, watching the two as they stared each other down. The man finally spoke, a twisted smile starting to creep onto his face, his voice was high-pitched, like a killer clown.
“So.. you must be Boone..”
Boone nodded.
The man lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, and yanked him closer, his eyes filled with rage and hate.
“You took my job, you fucking helmeted freak!” He screamed hysterically. Boone brought his right hand up, wiping some of the loose spittle off of his optic.
“Atleast I’m not a emo Beatles reject.” He brought his right hand back as the man’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop right out of his skull. He swung his right hand across, striking the man across the face. He staggered back, tripping over the small coffee table in the middle of the room and landing flat on his ass. Boone stiffened, standing over him in a threatening stance as the others gathered around. The man wiped the blood away from his mouth, looking up at Boone, a smile on his face, almost as if he’s impressed, or perhaps disappointed.
“Why’d you have to take my job, Boonesie?” He said in the same high-pitched, crazed voice, still lying on the ground, his legs on top of the coffee table. Boone relaxed his posture, still looking down at him. “Its nothing personal, I’m just better.” The man’s smile turned into a frown as the other members of the team stood in shock. “And you would of just drove your team into the path of an APC’s machine gun.” He turned around, walking back to his bunk, when a voice stopped him in his tracks. “Why don’t you come finish me then?” He froze on the spot, remembering when he had told someone to drink bleach, and when they had died because of it. Boone shook slightly for a moment, before turning his head, so that half his face faced them. “I don’t kill people if I don’t have to.” He turned his head around, and added. “Especially those who can help us in this war.” He walked back towards his bunk, leaving it at that.