F.E.A.R. 3: Darkest Hour 0.2

Prologue Interval – Complication

Pointman's stare was one of bewilderment as he looked at Paxton, his eyes half-visible through his goggles.

However, it was only a moment later that he glared at his spectral sibling.
Paxton snickered to himself before he too took on a more serious demeanor.

"I know it doesn't make sense." He said. "But things like that don't matter anymore."
Air hissed from the armoured gasmasks of the Urban Replicas that surrounded Pointman. He could feel their incensed stares through the wide, black lenses they eyed him through.

"You killed me." Paxton continued. "I didn't like that." In a molt of fading black ash, he was gone.

"Attack." His voice echoed. The Replica soldiers tensed.

Pointman's eyes dilated.
The sound of the falling rain slowed, down to the point that he could almost hear each individual drop.
A red tint fell over his vision.

Pointman charged right, raising his pistol. Assault rifle fire opened up, sounding more like the chugging of a locomotive engine as opposed the firing of an automatic weapon. Though Pointman's speed and agility had increased, so too had his mental ability to perceive each of his surroundings at an optimal pace. As Pointman dashed, it was almost like running underwater.

Pointman fired, putting a forty-five millimeter slug through the face-lens of the Urban Combat Replica on his right. Blood splashed out onto the rifle he still gripped.

"SHHIIIT!!" One of the Replicas shouted, distorted by Pointman's activated reflexes.

Heavy rounds grazed against Pointman's armour. Some of the fabric on the shins and one of the shoulders on his suit tore and his skin bruised underneath.
Pointman swung his arm left, blasting five shells directly into the chest of the Replica standing parallel with the one he'd just felled.
He holstered the pistol, snatching the rifle from the hands of the Replica with the gunshot to the head as he continued to fall to the ground.

As the second Replica he'd fired on continued to stagger backwards, Pointman fired a single shot from the rifle into his head.
He blurted something unintelligible and began to sag.
Not even hesitating after he'd fired, he began to run again, blasting at least ten rounds into the Urban Combat Replica opposite him. He was downed by the barrage.

"KEEP FIIIRING!" Pointman heard.

A bullet struck Pointman by the collar as another rung against his side. Still he pressed forward, slowing himself to a halt as he neared the second Replica he'd killed.
The soldier's legs had buckled and he'd been in the process of falling to the ground. Pointman grabbed him by the collar of his flak-vest, hoisting him up as shield.
Pointman felt a blunt pain two inches above the bridge of his nose. He hadn't much time left.
As bullets soaked into his humanoid shield, he poked his new rifle around it, spraying rounds at the head and neck area of the Tactical-class replica nearer to him. The white shoulder and kneepads as well as his ammo-pouches made him fairly easy to see in the darkness. Bullets pinged against his metal helmet but a shot to his neck let loose a crimson spurt.
As Pointman held the trigger down, he noticed the fire rate of the gun accelerate sharply as well as the sounds of bullet casings hitting the ground, easier to distinguish now they at normal speed. Now his abilities had been exhausted. Great.

As more rounds pounded into his corpse-guard, he took care to prop it up, tensing his stance.

The Replica began to circle round. "Fuck!" He shouted.
Thirteen rounds remained. Pointman gripped the rifle as he saw the last Replica's movement.
Tightening his grip, he released the carcass he held, sliding out along the ground. A burst of fire finally knocked it off its feet but it had now served Pointman's purpose.
He took aim, emptying the clip into the preoccupied Replica's side. His shoulder-pads and flak vest caught a number of the rounds but others cut into his neck and what little was exposed of his belly as well as the vest's arm-openings.

The Replica screamed as blood spattered out and he spun onto the ground.
Dust unsettled from the ground as he impacted. He became silent.
Pointman looked around cautiously, not activating his headlamp for fear of being seen.
It would soon become apparent that either way, such a thing mattered very little.
A single pair of hands clapped.

"Excellent." Paxton laughed. "Truly excellent. Battle-damaged, outnumbered, outgunned and still you emeged victorious. A true son of Alma." He said, making himself present once more.
"It's for that very reason that this is so far from being over."

Red eyes appeared in the darkness from behind the phantom form of Paxton Fettel.
Tall and powerfully built, several of them were clothed in jet black suits of body armour, punctuated with streaks of burgundy fabric, white shoulder and kneepads and crowned with a white, ghostly, venetian-like mask.
As their red lenses glared upon him, Pointman recognized these enemies: The Replica Elite. The others however he had never seen before.
They wore high-tech, metal-plated armour over black skinsuits. Their black helmets looked sturdy, extending into a metal guard which protected the eyes and featured the red optics of adaptive-imaging goggles.

"Neutralize him." Paxton smirked.
The new type of Replica stepped forward but Pointman aimed, firing into Paxton's form. It had worked on the eldritch manifestations unleashed on him before, so what was to stop it here?
Paxton burst into a cloud of black and ash.
The Replicas were still.
But then, they began to reanimate themselves. Simultaneously, the new type of Replica perfected their aim and fired. Arcs of brilliant vermilion shone through the room as beams of energy and heat tore into Pointman's body.
The outer sides of Pointman's shins and thighs were scorched. Another beam had clipped both the side of his chest and his raised forearm, knocking the gun away and leaving it a molten mess. The final shot had singed his left shoulder.

Pointman was silent, unceremoniously falling onto his knees on the ground as smoke trailed from his charred armour. The pain was intolerable yet Pointman made no sound.
The shots had never been intended to be fatal.
He sank forward, putting his arms out. Blood drenched his sleeves as his did so.

"A valiant effort, Brother," Paxton laughed. "But you'll find that such a thing will work on me no longer. My power is boosted by mother's own and it is here that she walks among us. Auburn overflows with it.
A pair of Replicas grabbed Pointman, lifting him up to stand. Again, they were the new type of Replica.

"Do you like them?" Paxton asked. "Variant VI like the others, but these are Replica Laser Elites. They, along with the other Elite type and even another heavy-armour model were the most difficult to reactivate.
While it is unfortunate that the weaker ones have all but been culled off, it is satisfactory to know that I have these to rely upon now that I've reached such a crucial stage.
You can stop fighting now, Brother."

Pointman strained to look up. Confusion was in his eyes as Paxton looked into them through the goggles.

"Mother is free. Armacham are your enemies. And the man whom Genevieve Aristide reports to can label you and your little friends as enemies of the state, any time he wishes, if you know who I'm talking about."
Paxton sighed. "The war I've foreseen is almost here and yet you are still on the wrong side.
Why are you still screwing around?"

The Pointman looked back at him, and then finally lowered his head. Paxton raised an eyebrow, then sighed.

"Not feeling very talkative?" He snorted.
He looked sharply at the white-masked Replica Elite beside him and then to the two that held his sibling.
The Elite stepped forward, slamming his fist into Pointman's chest. The heavy D-12 armour flattened.
Pointman was thrown back somewhat by the blow but the pair of Replica soldiers held him loosely in place.

"You know, you're actually beginning to piss me off." Paxton hissed. "By now, that should say something."
As the Replicas paced toward the felled Pointman, Paxton turned, beginning down the nearby corridor.
"Take him. Find and kill the others." He said. "They will have no place alongside us."
"This is your last chance, Brother. Do not disappoint me."

The Laser Elite to Pointman's took a better hold of the Pointman's arm. Pointman's eyes dilated.
Tearing his right arm free, he whipped the pistol from its holster, ramming it into the neck of the Laser Elite on his right and firing rapidly.
The Laser Elite still holding him slid one of his hands forward while tightening his grip, about to snap Pointman's arm in two.
Pointman folded his arm sharply, surprising him as he knocked his elbow into his pec. He then yanked the pistol around. It almost seemed to fit as he pressed its nozzle into one of the goggle-lenses on the Replica's face.
He fired, hearing both glass and skull shatter with his engaged reflexes.
He felt the pain again already. There hadn't been time to recover the stamina he needed for this, and right now it agonized him to even stand.

The other Replicas pointed their weaponry. The remaining four Laser Elites aimed their signature weapons, the Type-12 Laser Carbine, while the three other Elite types primarily wielded Vollmer VK-12 combat shotguns. One even held an MP-50 repeating cannon. They aimed but did not fire, awaiting the order from their commander.
Paxton turned around, breaking into an outright snarl of rage. "You. How dare you…!" He growled. "KILL him, already!"

The ground trembled. A red tint fell over Pointman's vision again. His temples pounded.
A small, garnet figure suddenly stood before him, her black hair falling down over her shoulders and obscuring her pale skin.
In utter disbelief, he caught the glow of her scarlet eyes as she turned her back to him.

"NO!" Paxton shouted. "No, it cannot be! What are you doing?!"
Young Alma merely scowled upon Paxton Fettel. Slowly, she raised a hand and instantly, the foremost Replicas were consumed in a white-red flame. Those few behind them were simply sent flying.

"No! NO!" Paxton yelled as the place seemed to shake violently. "WHY?!"
And with that, he was gone once more. Ash and shadow remained in his place.
Pointman's vision blackened. The pistol in his hand weighed a ton. He tried to take another step forward but only succeeded in falling to the ground unconscious.

* * * * *

"That's a lot of gunfire I'm hearing." Holiday breathed as they paced down the corridor. "And I don't like it."

"No kidding." Jin replied. The two of them entered the building's inner stairwell – a dirty, gritty place – and began to head down.
The radio link tucked into Jin's pocket vibrated. She paused.

"What is it?" Holiday asked.

"It's Betters." She said quietly. "He can reach us!"

"Then put it through." Holiday answered. "What are you waitin' for?"

"Not just yet." Jin said. "I'm not sure it's safe enough."

"Not safe enough?" Holiday almost chuckled. "We're talkin' now, aren't we? Come on, just—"

"Quiet." Jin hissed. "They're coming! Quick!"

She reached for the door of the floor's maintenance closet. Her hunch paid off as she found it unlocked, pulling Holiday inside after her. He warily closed the door behind him.
Holiday raised his sub-machinegun as Jin unsheathed her pistol.
Moments passed inside the cramped space.
Holiday opened his mouth to speak.
The sound of a door being violently kicked down echoed outside.

"Up the stairs! Go!" A low, electronically amplified voice shouted. "They may still be around!"

Heavy footsteps crashed up the stairs outside the closet. Another door opened before the footsteps began to die down before swinging closed.

"They gone yet?" Holiday asked.

"Wait a sec." Jin whispered, a hand to one of her temples. "I…don't feel any more of them. I think we can go."

"So, you can feel them as well now?"

"Somewhat." Jin replied coyly. "They have high psychic aptitudes engineered into them. Now that I'm familiarized with them, I think I can recognize their signatures when present."

"…Uh huh." Holiday exhaled. "Makes as much sense as everything else lately. Hey, while we're still here, you want to patch Betters through now?"

"Sounds like a good idea."

Jin engaged the radio link but set it at a low volume.

"Betters, I'm here. What is it?"

"J-Jin?!" He said. "Jin, thank God! I've been trying to reach you for hours. Your signal popped up again just now so I went for it. Holiday with you too?"

"Yes, he is. The pilot didn't make it though. But, Betters—"

"What about the Pointman? He's just fine, right?"

"That's the thing, sir." Jin bit her lip. "We got separated about fifteen minutes ago. We don't know what happened to him and there are Replica forces in the building. Can you pinpoint our location?"

"Oh, Christ. That's pretty bad all right." Betters grimaced. "Okay, listen. You're in the northeast sector of Florens District, just on the edge of Auburn.
A pair of Delta Force Blackhawks also went down pretty close to you. We've set up an extraction point on the helipad of the Auburn Memorial Hospital. You know where that is.
It's weird. I mean, I know we were focused on the crisis at Armacham before but now that we look at the city, it's like it's gone completely dark."

"Didn't Armacham initiate a full evacuation of the blast area?" Holiday asked.

"Yeah, I suppose they did…but I sure don't remember hearing anything about them in the immediate area…unless—"

"Unless they predicted the facility was going to go up beforehand and focused efforts on the outer sectors instead of getting close." Jin finished for him.

"Exactly." Betters answered. "Anyway, as soon as you can, get a move on out of there. See if you can rendezvous with the Delta guys on the way."

"Wait!" Jin raised her voice. "What about the Pointman?"

"Jin, I'm sorry." Betters said gravely. "But chances are, he's dead. Or he soon will be. Now get out of there. Betters out."

"Wait!" Jin cried. "Rodney!"

"You heard him." Holiday said. "Look, I liked the guy too but we gotta' go. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not…" Jin said dejectedly. "Just sto—...Wait."

She switched off the radio. "Keep quiet." she said.

Holiday signaled, putting a finger to his lip.

A door near the last one they'd heard earlier – possibly the same one – was struck open. Footsteps began to thud back down the stairs.

"I heard you the first time!" a voice like the one before snarled. "If we run into him, we'll radio you. You just make sure you do your job and keep up the search for the others!"

The footsteps faded.

Jin was still silent. Holiday waited for her signal. She nodded.

"Did you hear that?!" Jin asked. "He's alive! And they don't have him!"

Holiday smiled a little as he was still cautious about the matter. "All right." He said. "Do your thing."

"Pointman! Pointman, come in! This is Jin!" She cried into her radio link. "Ugh. He's not answering."

"…He answers?" Holiday asked.

"It's not saying he's picked up. Happy?" Jin snarled.

"Whoa, easy." Holiday answered. "So, now what?"

"I'll try again." Jin growled.

"Every second we stay here is one second closer they are to finding us!" Holiday pressed. "What if he's just dead?"

"He's not dead." Jin said, fully turning toward him. "I know it."
A silence passed.

"…Strangely enough, I'd believe that." Holiday finally said. "What are you gonna' do?"

"I don't know…" Jin said. "I could leave it on his link as a priority message but then…that would put a lot more people at risk if he was captured."

"It's your call."

"We'll stay here longer and try to reach him again." Jin said firmly.

"All right then." Holiday replied. "I can do that."

Jin froze. "Shh!" she hushed.
Outside the door behind her, a shadow passed by, obscuring the light from under the door. Jin turned around slowly. Holiday gripped his gun.

"I think I found them!" a voice outside shouted.
The discharge of an AT-14 sounded. The heavy round burst through the door, catching Jin in the vest just above the gut.
Holiday opened fire as more rounds blasted through, spraying rounds back through the door as he caught Jin and pulled her out the way. He heard the Replica's dying grunt and his uneven footsteps as he stumbled back and crashed into the stair rail.
Holiday kicked the door open, holding Jin on one arm. "Jin, you alright?!" he asked, looking around.

"Talk to me!"

"I'm fine." She coughed. "It hurts like hell…and I can't breathe, but other than that, just great."

"Upstairs! Now!" A voice below shouted.
Holiday looked over the side of the stairwell, priming a grenade he took from his belt. He dropped it directly down the spiral.

"Enjoy." He said.
Moments later, it detonated. Several Replicas screamed. Charred flesh and armour flew upwards.
Holiday and helped Jin quickly down to the next floor. "I don't exactly think we can keep going that way." She snapped.

"Yeah but I'll think of something." Holiday huffed.

He turned, pulling another grenade from his belt. This one had a cylindrical shape. He tossed it upstairs as a door near the closet burst open.
An Urban Combat Replica emerged from the door. "This way!" He shouted.
The grenade exploded, releasing a sharp ping and burst of light. The Replicas stumbled blindly, clutching at their ears. Their leader was bent over, face almost to the ground. As he was, he was able to notice the black, metal sphere that landed at his feet.
Holiday looked away as the squad was blown to pieces. He found himself looking at Jin who was trying to shout something over the blast.

It was no use. Holiday's ears were ringing. Giving up, she pointed at the red sign behind her which featured a large arrow pointing outside the stairwell as well as the words:
"FIRE ESCAPE".

* * * * *


Helicopters Gamma One and Two touched down in an empty street junction little over a block from their target zone. They had used several buildings as cover.
Schiff stepped out of the chopper, raindrops dispersing against his armour. He was followed by one of the lighter soldier squads he had ridden with.
"Arden," He said into his radio link. "Just because we picked up thirty five or so on the ground doesn't mean anything. Stay frosty."

"Understood, sir."

"Pilot," Schiff rasped. "Release the lock."

The large container on the back of the helicopter detached itself, the enclosing sides unfolding.
A cube-like machine now remained. Schiff walked to its side, opened a compartment and then input a series of numbers.
Schiff stepped back. The machine rumbled. Its lower compartment split down the middle, each half unfolding into pair of thick, yet nimble bird-like legs. The upper half shifted, forming its body and becoming in shape like the nose of a battle tank's turret sans the gun.
A machine-cannon was affixed to the gun-turret that extended from the automaton's head and ordnance pods unfolded from its 'shoulders'.
Its complex mechanics seemed unaffected by the downpour.
Standing at almost seven-foot tall, it was a curious weapon.

"You have an additional objective, Mule." Schiff said. "Break through the Replica defensive line and clear a path for our troops. You are to return to your sweep only when that has been completed.
Now, remain idle until I give the order."

Both squadrons of Armacham Elite assault troopers exited the second helicopter.

"Deploy the UAVs." Schiff commanded. "But recall them if they experience too many problems. They weren't made for this kind of weather." At his word, a small swarm of the foot-long, triangular attack drones detached from the cargo area on the underside of the second chopper's tail.

"Alright, Gamma One, move out. By the time you're in place, we'll have drawn their attention."

"Roger that, sir." In the background, the helicopter, Gamma One, revved its rotors quietly and lifted off.

"Mule, position yourself at the end of this block so that the target zone is in sight." Schiff exhaled. "Squadrons, use the other buildings as cover and flank the target zone."
The soldiers began their silent jog down the street as the Mule began to clomp along. Once Schiff was sure they were far ahead enough, he opened his radio link again.

"Mule, bombard the targets."

The ordnance pods on the Mule's sides opened fire, sending several mortar-missiles scattering around the base of the building.
Explosions and clouds of dust unfurled brilliantly.

"Gamma Two," Schiff said. "What's the enemy status looking like on the thermal?"

"Hard to say from the fires, sir, but it looks like you got a lot of 'em." The pilot answered. "Hold on…"

Shadows appeared through the smoke, towering, fearsome beings with heavy armour and weaponry.
Several of the figures wore thick, tightly enclosed metal armour with large, rounded shoulder pads. The red eyes on their skull-like helmets cut through the darkness. On one arm was massive shield, on the other was minigun.
The other type of figures which had survived marched forward with similar, heavy armour but theirs featured shields, similar to those of their counterparts, only smaller and worn on their shoulders. Their helmets were also more mechanical seeming, appearing rounded and insect-like with four symmetrically placed blue eyes and an air-intake in between. These carried a multitude of different weapons, the effects of which becoming apparent quite quickly.
Patten assault rifle fire picked up quickly from the Armacham soldiers that had encircled the Replica warriors.
Large rounds pinged off the behemoths' armour, seemingly to no avail yet in actuality doing heavy damage.
One of the blue eyed Replicas fired its weapon, the HV-Penetrator, which made a rapid clicking noise. One of the Armacham soldiers was nailed, screaming to the wall behind him by a large spike of metal, fired from the bizarre rifle.
Another fired its MP-50 repeating cannon, dismembering a pair of soldiers before a cluster of UAVs fired on it from above, causing it to shield itself.
The red-eyed Replica giants with shields sprayed their miniguns. Another soldier was torn to shreds as he failed to take cover, as well as several of the oncoming UAVs.
The red eye Replicas then turned their weapons on the Mule which had fired another salvo. A pair of the blue-eyed Replicas and a red-eyed fell.

"Colonel, I've got movement. A lot!" Gamma Two called.

A wall of Replicas advanced from the smoke surrounding the building, opening fire and killing three more of the Armacham troopers.
The Mule immediately opened fire with its machine-cannon.
The Replicas were a force to be reckoned with, it was true, but in front of this weapon, they were as fragile as any human, ground to pieces under incredible rapid fire. Several of the wearied and battered Heavy Replica soldiers were felled by the weapon as well while the Mule began to pick off its remaining targets.

A trio of rockets suddenly streaked through the rain, slamming into the machine's side and exploding. The Mule almost lost balance, stumbling wildly to right itself.
A blue-eyed Heavy Replica stood with a smoking Andra MOD-3 tri-rocket launcher. Immediately it was hosed with assault rifle fire as it aimed again.
The crack of a heavy rifle sounded. The Replica's head exploded.
Colonel Schiff no longer held his Patten assault rifle, now pulling back the bolt-action slide on a Raab KM50 rifle.

"Men," he said. "Hold your ground."