A large military truck slowed down as it arrived at a secure reinforced gate guarded by two soldiers. The two soldiers approached the vehicle. One of them stopped and raised his rifle, pointing it at the truck. The other approached the truck wearily. The truck fully stopped, and the soldier stopped by the front window.

  A large man was driving the truck. Despite sitting down, the soldier could tell he was tall. The driver's military uniform looked ready to pop from the sheer muscles of the man. The soldier gulped as the man's sharp blue eyes analyzed him.

  "P-password, s-sir?" the soldier asked, cursing at himself internally for his stutter.

  The bulky man gave his fellow soldier a polite smile. "Code: 27/Beta."

  The soldier sighed in relief, giving the bulky man a friendly grin.

  "Whatcha got for us, friend?" asked the soldier.

  "Just here to restock food," the bulky man replied.

  The soldier nodded, and his eyes shifted to the container at the back of the truck. "Do you mind if I check? It's standard procedure and stuff."

  "No, of course, I understand. Gonna make sure there's no bombs back there!" the man barked out a laugh.

  The soldier laughed too, even if it was with less excitement. Wordlessly, the soldier walked to the back and opened the container. He carefully scanned for anything suspicious, but there was nothing but transparent boxes filled with food cans. His stomach grumbled at the sight.

  Military food may taste as delicious as an unwashed celery stick, but it is still food. With that, the soldier closed the container and signaled his partner to let the man through. The second soldier lowered his rifle and nodded, turning around and punching in a series of numbers on his military-issued phone. After tapping the last number, the large metal gate groaned as it opened.

  "Thanks, I'll see you guys later." The truck driver gave a small wave before driving past the gate.

  The soldiers rejoined each other as they stared ahead, looking for any possible intruders.

  "Hey, wait, aren't they half an hour early?" the second soldier thought aloud, alerting the first soldier.

  "What?"

  "I mean, the truck is supposed to arrive thirty minutes later."

  The first soldier just shrugged. "Who cares if they are a little early? In fact, it's a good thing; I'm starving, man."

  Back in the truck, the driver's blue eyes shone as he looked at the military base just a hundred meters away. It was one of the most secretive and biggest bases in all of America. Only a handful of people have enough clearance to know the existence of this base. Only highly skilled soldiers are stationed here. This base was nicknamed Creatio due to the number of weapons born here.

  The very first nuclear weapon—or at least its prototype—was created here. All-powerful weapons that have yet to see the light of day were made here. He could see another gate up ahead, where more soldiers stood on guard. Unlike the soldiers from the first gate, they were wearing heavily reinforced armour. Thankfully, unlike the first entrance, the soldiers stood out of the way, and the gate opened on its own once the truck was close enough.

  He drove through several squadrons, heavily armed and patrolling the base, ready for any fight. Also, a few tanks were already active, moving around slowly and looking for trespassers. The truck driver led his truck to a location where a nicely dressed man and a few soldiers stood by. The truck driver exited the vehicle and saluted the nicely dressed man.

  "Commander Heater, sir!"

  Heater saluted back. He was an old man with a large scar across his eye, but he was well built, not to the degree of the truck driver. The man possessed dark skin and had a completely shaven head.

  "At ease, soldier."

  Heater and the truck driver dropped their salute pose. They had intense looks about them; both men glared at each other. The atmosphere between them was even making all the hardened soldiers nearby uncomfortable. Then, after a few moments, the two cracked a silly grin.

  "Dylan, can't believe you're alive." The large hulking man pulled Dylan Heater into a large hug.

  Dylan Heater returned the hug with vigour. "It's such a long time, John!"

  The two pulled away, and Heater could sense some discomfort from John. Heater rolled his eyes and playfully smacked his arm.

  "I can't believe you still don't like me calling your real name... Atlas."

  Atlas grinned hearing his true name come out from his friend's lips. "I just like Atlas better than that name."

  "If you say so. Anyway, how have you been? It's been almost ten years since you left the military and formed your mercenary group. Still can't believe they let you do that since you're... you."

  Atlas laughed. "I have connections."

  "Ha, I suppose. But what are you doing being back as a soldier? I thought you wanted to be bigger than the general of the entire US Army?" Heater asked.

  Atlas nervously laughed, scratching his brown locks of hair.

  "The mercenary career didn't work out that well, and now I'm here. Listen, I like to catch up, but I'm tired of having to sit all day in that damn truck. Where would I be staying?"

  Heater pulled out a map and showed him where he was staying. After another serious salute followed by laughing boisterously with each other, Atlas departed for his temporary stay to rest. Meanwhile, Commander Heater regained his serious look.

  "All right, boys, get the goods. I know you all must be hungry!"

  "SIR!" all of the soldiers exclaimed in unison.

  They jogged to the truck, but after one of the soldiers was barely a meter away the truck exploded. The massive explosion blew back Commander Heater, his ears ringing. Commander Heater gritted his teeth as he struggled to get up. His eyes darted to the burning, destroyed truck and the soldiers on the ground groaning. Some of the soldiers were not too hurt, but some needed medical attention immediately.

  With extreme effort, Commander Heater managed to stand on his feet. Not long after, the loud blaring sounds of the alarm blasted through the entire base. Several soldiers from a different squad rushed in and tried to assist him, but Heater brushed them off.

  "Don't help me, you buffoons!" he shouted, jabbing his finger at the injured soldiers. "Get them medical attention now!"

  The soldiers stood frozen for a couple seconds before scrambling to help their injured comrades, but before they could assist any further, the unmistakable sounds of choppers filled the air, prompting all of them to look up. Commander Heater's eyes became wide as saucers before fiercely glaring at the multiple choppers heading to their base. The helicopters were armed with missiles, and at the side doors men held miniguns ready to fire. On the side of the black helicopters there was a symbol spray-painted: a white illustration of the planet Earth wrapped around by a snake. It was the symbol of the mercenary group called The Titans.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "It's a goddamn enemy attack..." Heater growled before looking at the freighted soldiers.

  He was confused. Why was the mercenary group that always works with the American military attacking them!? It didn't matter right now; they were under attack, and multiple people under his command were injured. Commander Heater needed to take action.

  "All of you, get the injured to the medical house and the rest of you get everyone to their battle stations, do it NOW!"

  The soldiers rushed to do what they were ordered to do. As for Commander Heater, it looked like he'd have to get his hands dirty...

  The choppers released a barrage of missiles at the soldiers who were firing at them. The lucky ones survived the explosions with major injuries, though many didn't have the same luxury. The missiles allowed several choppers to land safely while some remained in the air shooting those who tried to fight back. The chopper doors revealed dark, heavily armored soldiers. Their headgear resembled a gas mask.

  The masks' eyes were glowing bright red. While their armour and weapons were noticeably less technologically advanced than those of the American soldiers, the Titan troops easily took down whatever the soldiers threw at them. It was as if an army of demons rose out of hell to unleash their horrors across the base. The Titan troops defeated any enemy they came across, and after thirty minutes since their initial attack, the soldiers' numbers were reduced fast. Some of them tried to flee from the fearsome dark soldiers, but they were either captured or killed.

  "Heh, one would think these guys would put up more of a fight. I'm honestly disappointed," one of the Titan soldiers chuckled as they pulled the trigger on an unfortunate soul who was begging for her life.

  The second Titan soldier shrugged at his friend's comment. "Can't be helped. We're the best mercenary group in the world; why do you think the American government relies on us so much?"

  Before the other Titan trooper was about to respond, suddenly a loud crashing noise caught their attention and all the other Titans' attention. Their first thought was 'big' and then their second thought was 'we're screwed'. The giant metal machine—no, the giant mech—towered at the frightened soldiers, its twelve-meter body casting a large shadow over them. Despite their fear, the soldiers could feel the mech's glare from its lone red eye. The mech's shape resembled a mix of a human bodybuilder and a gorilla.

  This was the latest model of the bipedal tank series known as Paladin X2, and like all tanks it had a pilot.

  "I'm only saying things once..." a familiar booming voice called out within the Paladin X2.

  "Surrender, terrorist scums!" Commander Heater ordered.

  In response to his generous offer of surrender, the Titan troops launched a hail of bullets hitting the Paladin, yet the bullets didn't pierce their target and instead bounced off its reinforced armour. Even when the choppers joined in, unleashing their miniguns at the white mech, it didn't even receive a single scratch of damage. Heater chuckled within the mech.

  "Cute. Wanna see my toys?" As soon as those words had been said, the mech's shoulder popped open and sprang out a large minigun.

  The miniguns fired, hitting multiple Titan soldiers. As the miniguns did their work on the Titan soldiers on the ground, Heater brought the Paladin's arm to the air, aiming it at the choppers who were still firing. Another hatch opened on the Paladin's arm and out came a tank cannon. Before the choppers could get out of the way, the cannon fired, hitting one chopper dead on. The large explosion also took out three of the five choppers in the air.

  The Paladin was about to fire again before a voice stopped him.

  "Men, stop firing. Leave him to me!"

  In an instant, the barrage of bullets stopped. The Paladin turned to face the origin of the voice, but before he could turn fully, a massive force sent the 200-ton Paladin X2 flying and it harshly slid across the ground. Commander Heater groaned within the Paladin. He controlled the Paladin to get up, but Heater's eyes grew wide as he saw a fist-shaped dent appear on the Paladin's chest. There was only one man in the world right now who could do it.

  Heater, through the Paladin's single red eye, glared at the large, bulky man whom he once considered a brother. Atlas stood with a cold expression as the remaining Titan soldiers aimed at the Paladin. Atlas raised one hand in the air, which caused his Titan soldiers to look at their leader worriedly before obeying and lowering their weapons and moving back.

  "Atlas... you damn traitor!" Heater roared as he commanded the Paladin to be put in a fighting stance, ready to brawl.

  "What is this for? Your fellow soldiers are being slaughtered like cattle—why!?" he demanded.

  But Atlas kept his face passive. "You know why."

  "You mean all this for your childish dream!?" the Paladin gestured to the chaos and destruction.

  The base was covered in fire, weapons, and deceased soldiers.

  "Are you going that far!? For your goal!?"

  "...Yes."

  Heater couldn't take it anymore, and with a roar aimed at the heavens he charged at Atlas, who did the same. The Paladin cocked its fist back before bringing it down at Atlas, who, despite having such a huge frame, nimbly dodged the attack and grabbed the arm. With a strength that should be impossible for a human, one pull tore its arm off. Inside the Paladin, Commander Heater grit his teeth as he fumbled the controls, trying to regain balance, but before he could, Atlas swung the torn arm at the Paladin.

  The arm crashed into the Paladin's head. Its red eye cracked slightly. Atlas tried to take another swing, but the Paladin jumped back, propelled by several focused flames coming out under its feet.

  "That's new..." Atlas muttered.

  But that didn't matter. Atlas smirked as he aimed the torn arm at the retreating Paladin and, with a fearsome roar, threw it like a javelin. Heater barely made the Paladin dodge its own arm; it grazed its chest before the arm flew somewhere away from the area. As soon as the Paladin touched the ground, it reactivated its machine-gun shoulders and began to spray a hail of bullets at Atlas. This forced Atlas to run to the side to avoid the bullets. Although some hit him, instead of piercing, they only left a minor bruise on his skin.

  Heater clicked his tongue; he was unable to remember when Atlas moved that fast back then. And the way he ripped the Paladin's arm off with barely any effort suggested Atlas had become even stronger. As expected of America's second successful super soldier. Regardless of his growth in power, Atlas would fall to the Paladin, to him. Seeing the bullets only grazing him at best, Heater reached for the button to fire missiles at Atlas only for the hulking man to throw something at him.

  Heater only had a millisecond to react as a flash bomb activated, and despite being inside the Paladin, the intense light from the screen made him recoil in surprise.

  "Damn!"

  The intense light only lasted for a few seconds before his screen finally showed his surroundings. The good news was that Heater could now see again; the bad news was that Atlas was nowhere to be found. That was until he felt an incredible force hit him from behind. The Paladin dropped to its knees from the sheer force of the punch Atlas gave it. But he wasn't done. While the Paladin was on its knees, Atlas, with his bare hands, tore both legs off in only a few seconds and now the Paladin could no longer stand.

  "Damn you!" Heater roared.

  With only one remaining limb, the Paladin reached to grab Atlas, who easily evaded the arm before grabbing it and, like with the first arm, pulling it away from its mechanical body. Not long after, Atlas pounded at the machine using its arm while the Paladin lay helplessly on the ground, unable to do anything. After several more blows, Atlas tossed the arm away, panting heavily, but the feral grin he had this whole time hadn't left his face.

  "That was a tough fight you gave me, old friend!" the large man exclaimed as he confidently walked to the battered Paladin.

  With barely any effort, he tore through the chest of the Paladin to find Heater sitting in the driver's seat of the Paladin, pointing a pistol at him as blood poured from his head and nose. Atlas rolled his eyes at the gun.

  "You know that's not going to work."

  Heater clicked his tongue, knowing he was right; however, Heater pulled the trigger anyway. Heater kept shooting at Atlas, all of them hitting their intended target, but Atlas barely flinched and only covered his face to protect his eyes from the bullets. Eventually, a loud click filled the air—the Paladin's gun was now empty. The commander let out a tired sigh and tossed his pistol away. He glared at his old friend whose face remained expressionless.

  "So you're really doing it, huh? You're here for the nuke and that, right?"

  "Yes."

  "That thing I get, but the nuke—what do you intend to do with it?"

  "..."

  Heater's eyes widened as it struck him.

  "No... you can't!" Heater tried to get up from his seat but only ended up coughing blood.

  Despite being protected by the Paladin's reinforced armour, the barrage of attacks from earlier still rattled his body. Multiple ribs were broken, his legs sprained, and the ringing in his ears was deafening. It was hopeless; he couldn't stop him from taking the nuke or the secret weapon. Heater found himself being lifted in the air by his neck by Atlas. He gasped and choked trying desperately to remove himself from the man's grasp, but all his body did was twitch violently.

  It was similar to a fish struggling to move through land. Atlas's eyes softened at his old friend.

  "For what it's worth, I consider you my friend, and even if it ended like this, I will always see you that way."

  With that, a loud snap could be heard, and Commander Heater was no more. Atlas exited the mangled Paladin with a sigh. His soldiers were securing the perimeter, making sure all of the remaining American soldiers were either captured or disposed of. He spotted one of his commanding officers march to him, giving him a salute.

  "Sir, we went through every inch of this base, captured the lab rats, and finished off everybody else," said the officer.

  Atlas nodded. "Right, and the nuke and the classified weapon?"

  "We've already secured it and are ready for takeoff. As for the second one..." the Titan soldier brought him a metallic case.

  Atlas quickly opened it before smirking. It was here: a weapon that could make him the strongest man in the world. With the nuke and this, no one could stop him. Not the American government, not the whole world, and maybe not even God.