Welcome to Hell
About a minute had passed since the first group, led by the captain, went through the portal. The second and third squads of Sparta were preparing to transfer while engineers monitored readings from their instruments. Suddenly, an unusual noise was heard, and sparks began shooting out from the ring surrounding the portal. Panic spread through the engineers' room.
"GRAVITATIONAL STABILIZER MALFUNCTION," read the message on the monitors.
"Stabilize it!" the chief scientist commanded.
"We’re losing control of the portal, the ring is 30% damaged," one of the staff responded.
The chief quickly grabbed the microphone and shouted, "EVERYONE, GET AWAY FROM THE PORTAL!!!" But it was too late. The stabilizers failed completely, and soldiers began being sucked into the portal. The machine room was filled with unearthly, blood-curdling screams as soldiers were pulled in, colliding with one another and nearby equipment. The pull grew stronger, and heavy MRAPs began to slide toward the portal as well. Crates of ammunition, medical kits, and unsecured equipment flew into the portal at incredible speed. Two MRAPs were dragged in, flipping over; the last one crashed against the portal’s arch with a loud bang. The ring began to collapse immediately, followed by a bright flash—and then an explosion.
"What the hell was that?" the captain muttered.
"Holy fuck…" Harper said, stunned.
"Or unholy fuck," Alex replied calmly.
"Screw you," Harper shot back at what she thought was an ill-timed joke.
From the back seat, a whisper could be heard. The captain turned to see Miguel holding a sacred cross and reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Regaining his composure, the captain started speaking again, "Father Miguel, it’s too early to give us last rites. There’s probably a reasonable explanation for this, and most likely, it’s just some stupid prank. But we need to be prepared for anything..."
A bright flash interrupted the captain's speech. Everyone in the team turned to see that the portal had vanished.
"What the hell is this now?" the captain growled and attempted to contact the science center and the other groups, but no one responded.
"Sergeant, check the comms. Do you see anyone from our unit?"
"No, sir. But something’s definitely wrong. Maybe they opened the portal elsewhere? We should try reaching them again."
The captain spent about 15 minutes trying to contact the second group. Just as he thought no one would respond, a voice came through the radio:
"This is SP2-1. I hear you loud and clear, captain."
"Sergeant, full report. Where are you, and what happened?" the captain demanded.
"Can’t say for sure, sir. Looks like a malfunction in the portal system pulled us all in randomly. As for our location… we’re in some kind of wasteland. There are cliffs behind us, and about half a mile away, I see tall, half-destroyed buildings. Gunfire can be heard from there. There are five of us here, no vehicles."
"Understood, Sergeant. Hold your position and set up a defensive perimeter. We’ll try to reach you."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied, ending the transmission.
"Ward, launch the UAV. Let’s locate them. Damn it, if there’s a firefight over there, we need to hurry."
"Roger!" Edward responded crisply.
The captain stepped out of the armored vehicle for fresh air while waiting for reconnaissance data. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one, and lit it. In his usual manner, he gazed up at the sky—only to be met with another shock. The sky was crimson red. What’s more, a strange figure hovered in the sky, resembling… a five-pointed star."First the tablets, now a pentagram in the sky… what the fucking hell is this?" the captain muttered.
Over his long service in Sparta, he had seen a lot; the unit was created specifically for reconnaissance and sabotage in far-flung locations. However, the very thought that they might now be in Hell sent chills down his spine. His musings were interrupted by the sergeant, who reported that the UAV had located the second squad on the opposite side of the city. "Then let’s move," the captain ordered. "Sergeant, plot the optimal route based on the drone data. We need to get there as quickly as possible."
The road to their destination was broken and full of potholes. It looked like it hadn’t been repaired in decades—if ever. The captain decided against driving into the city, even though it could have cut the travel time in half. Of course, their priority was reaching the second group as quickly as possible, but there was a risk of getting stuck in dense urban terrain—or worse, caught in a firefight with the locals. According to the sergeant’s calculations, they would reach the squad in an hour. The view outside the armored vehicle was strikingly varied. On the left was an industrial landscape: factory chimneys, massive concrete buildings, and conveyor belts. After another 20 minutes of driving, the industrial zone gave way to 18th-century-style architecture. The soldiers could even make out the rear of a massive building resembling a city hall. Half an hour later, the view outside changed again, this time to nothing but ruins. Collapsed skyscrapers, destroyed homes, and shattered streets painted a picture of desolation—no one had lived here in a long time. Only the view on the right side of the vehicle remained unchanged. Jagged, spiked cliffs resembling the hooked claws of a dragon jutted into the sky, commanding attention. The captain smirked. If not for the mission, he would have seized the opportunity to climb to the top of one of those peaks. Few knew that the captain had once been an avid mountaineer. But service consumed nearly all his time, and this passion had become just a distant memory.
Edward interrupted the moment of nostalgia. "Captain, according to the drone, a crowd of unknown creatures is moving slowly toward the second group. They’re humanoid in shape, but they’re definitely not human. They have both melee and firearms of an unknown type. We need to hurry; who knows what these things are capable of."
"Understood. Contact SP2-1 and relay this intel to them. Driver, floor it—we’ll probably need to provide support."
"Yes, sir!" the sergeant and driver responded in unison.
The MRAP’s engine roared with renewed vigor, and the captain was pushed slightly back into his seat.
"Just let us make it in time," the captain muttered.
The captain had always been strict with his subordinates. Every training session with him was exhausting beyond belief, and any assignment he gave would shock an unprepared soldier. But he did all of this to ensure that, in critical moments, his soldiers’ actions would be automatic. Deeply, he cared for each of his troops, and losing any of them would weigh heavily on him. He had lost too many already to endure that pain again. "No, I won’t let that happen… not again," he sighed quietly. Luckily, no one heard him. To everyone else, he was as unyielding as a rock, as strong as steel. He had no right to show weakness, to reveal the deep scars he carried—it might break the spirit of the others. The closer the captain and his team got to the second group’s coordinates, the clearer the sounds of gunfire became. According to the sergeant, the crowd of locals was dangerously close to the squad, who had fortified themselves in a small, half-ruined building on the outskirts of the city. Despite their best efforts, the captain and his team couldn’t reach the location before making contact with the potential enemy.
"Hold on, guys," the captain breathed.
From SP2 Squad:
Despite the scorching heat, a chill ran down the sergeant’s spine. Sure, they’d been in worse situations before, but the unknown was always unsettling. Strange creatures were already three hundred meters away from the building where the sergeant and his squad had taken up defensive positions. Weapons and ammunition were scarce: HK-416 rifles with LPVO scopes for every soldier, six magazines per rifle, and minimal gear. They also had an RPG-7 grenade launcher with three rockets, and the fact that their small group included a machine gunner with an M249 was a bit of a comfort. After all, the enemy was advancing in tight groups. However, there were just too many of them—about 50.
The sergeant ordered one of the soldiers to take the launcher and stand by.
“Well, looks like it’s starting,” the sergeant said, racking the rifle’s bolt. “On my command—everyone opens fire at once.”
The soldiers nodded silently. Each of them checked their weapon, chambered a round, and peered through their sights.
When the enemy came within 30 meters, the sergeant finally shouted:
“FIRE!”
Immediately, bursts of automatic fire echoed through the air, followed by the deep thud of the machine gun and the explosive roar of the RPG.
BOOM!
The RPG shot tore apart four enemies, injuring several others nearby. However, the bursts of rifle fire were far less effective than anticipated. The creatures scattered, quickly taking up nearby cover. One of them attempted to move forward but was taken down by a short three-shot burst that obliterated its crude-looking head.
“One down!” one of the soldiers shouted joyfully, only to duck immediately as bullets struck the wall next to him. Four more creatures were flanking the position, trying to encircle the squad. The sergeant spotted the maneuver instantly.
“Two, three! Enemy at two o’clock!” he barked.
The soldiers reacted without hesitation, firing at the advancing enemy.
“Reloading!” shouted a soldier on the left flank, as his comrade quickly moved to cover his position by the window.
The enemies began closing in from both sides. The sergeant noticed movement in the ravine.
“Reinforcements on the left! Four, grenades now!”
The situation was deteriorating rapidly. Despite their losses, the enemy pressed forward from all directions.
“Sergeant, we’ve got company on the left!” one soldier yelled, sprinting to the next piece of cover.
“Three, take them on! Machine gun covers the center!” the sergeant commanded.
“Got it!” the soldiers replied.
Bullets pounded the walls, shaking the building. The enemies had taken positions behind cars, concrete barricades, and the remains of walls, firing relentless bursts. Sparks flew as rounds hit window frames, chipping away at the nearby bricks.
The sergeant leaned against the wall next to a window, quickly poked out to fire a burst, and ducked back as bullets slammed into the bricks where his head had been seconds earlier.
“Damn it, how many of them are there?!” he cursed.
“They’re advancing on the left again!” another soldier shouted, firing single shots.
The sergeant glanced over: three creatures were sprinting from one vehicle to a barricade, firing wildly as they ran. One of them unleashed a long burst, spraying the window opening and forcing the soldier inside to hit the floor.
“Three! Throw a grenade at them!” the sergeant ordered.
The soldier rushed to the window, pulled the pin, and lobbed the grenade. The explosion tore apart the enemies behind the cover, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris. When the smoke cleared, two of them lay still, while a third was crawling away—but without legs, his efforts were futile.
Suddenly, the machine gun went silent.
“Reloading!” yelled the machine gunner, pulling out the empty belt.
The enemies, noticing the pause, surged forward with renewed aggression. Bullets rained down on the building with even greater intensity, and the creatures burst from their cover, charging toward the squad’s position.
“THEY’RE COMING FROM ALL SIDES!” one soldier yelled.
“Spread out!” the sergeant commanded. “We have to hold them off!”
Following his orders, the soldiers redistributed themselves around the building, each covering their sector. The enemies were seemingly endless, coming from everywhere. Each SP2 soldier faced at least ten foes in this wave alone. The enemy steadily pushed closer, house by house, inching toward the squad’s position.
Every SP2 soldier fired relentlessly, switching targets as fast as they could. The enemy wave advanced like an unstoppable tide.
“Left flank! They’re already in the street, right under the windows!” shouted the second soldier, firing a long burst at the creatures crossing the road.
The sergeant reacted instantly:
“Four, grenades!”
The soldier quickly ducked away from the window, pulling out another grenade from his gear. He pulled the pin, threw it through a nearby breach, and immediately took cover.
BOOM!
The deafening blast sent up a cloud of dust and debris, momentarily slowing the enemy’s advance.
“Damn it, how many of them are there?!” the grenadier shouted, sprinting to another window. He raised the RPG and took aim.
“Waiting for targeting,” he said.
The sergeant peeked outside. A group of enemies was clustered behind an overturned truck, firing at their position.
“The truck! Hit them!”
The grenadier fired. The projectile whooshed out of the tube and slammed into the enemy’s cover. The explosion obliterated the truck and the creatures behind it.
“Got ’em!” the grenadier reported.
“I’m down to just a pistol!” yelled the fourth soldier, desperately firing his Beretta.
“Hold on! Three, cover him!”
The third soldier quickly changed position, firing a burst at the enemies nearing the windows. Two fell, and one kept crawling until the soldier finished it off with a headshot.
“Ammo’s running out!” the machine gunner shouted, loading his last belt into the M249.
“Last mag here too!” the third reported, glancing at his pouches.
The sergeant scanned the situation: the enemy was closing in, ammunition was nearly gone. One of the creatures—a tall, broad-shouldered brute—lunged through a breach in the wall, roaring as it charged the nearest soldier.
“Four, behind you!” The soldier turned just in time to fire three pistol rounds into the creature’s chest. It staggered but kept moving. Then the third soldier emptied half his mag into it before it finally dropped.
“These things just won’t die!” he shouted, wiping blood off his face.
The situation was dire. The squad was on the brink: only a few grenades, a couple of magazines, and one last RPG round remained.
“We can’t hold this position!” yelled the machine gunner, ducking as bullets peppered the window.
The sergeant, breathing heavily, replied firmly: “We hold. There’s nowhere to retreat.”
He loaded his last magazine into the HK and chambered a round. His hands trembled from the adrenaline. The last time he felt this way was during an operation in Syria many years ago—a cold, visceral sense of death looming nearby.
The enemy fire subsided as they regrouped, giving the squad a brief moment to reload and catch their breath. The silence was eerie, broken only by the occasional distant gunshot. Exhausted but alive, the SP2 soldiers huddled behind their cover.
“Too quiet…” muttered the third, checking his remaining ammo.
“They’re waiting…” the sergeant said grimly, listening intently. “They’ll hit us the moment we think it’s over.”
The silence was heavy. The ruined walls, shattered windows, the smell of gunpowder and smoke—all reminded them of the chaos just moments ago.
Suddenly, the machine gunner’s deep voice broke the quiet. He began softly singing a soldier’s favorite battle hymn, staring into the distance:
“I stand here right beside you
Tonight, we're fighting for our lives
Let me hear your battle cry…”
Taking a deep breath, he continued:
“We are the ones who will never be broken
With our final breath
We'll fight to the death
We are soldiers, we are soldiers…”
The other soldiers glanced at him, offering faint smiles. Then, from the other side of the room, the third soldier lightly tapped his gear against the concrete and added softly:
“We stand shoulder to shoulder…”
Another tap.
“We stand shoulder to shoulder,” said the third and the machine gunner together. Then the sergeant joined in:
“We stand shoulder to shoulder
You can't erase us, you'll just have to face us!”
One by one, the rest of the squad joined the chorus:
“We stand shoulder to shoulder,
We stand shoulder to shoulder,
We stand shoulder to shoulder
You can't erase us, you'll just have to face us!”
“That’s more like it,” the third said with a satisfied grin. “Felt like a funeral in here before.”
The song lifted their spirits. Despite the slim chances of survival, the squad was determined to sell their lives dearly.
“Enemy advancing!” the machine gunner yelled, opening fire again. Bullets hammered the walls once more as the enemy pushed forward.
“Hold the line!” shouted the sergeant.
“YOU’RE ALL DEAD MEAT!” the third roared, firing off his last rounds at the advancing horde.
Suddenly, something metallic clattered onto the floor.
“GRENADE!” the third screamed.
The sergeant saw it and immediately dove toward the nearest soldier, shoving him aside.
“Get down!” he managed to shout.
BOOM!
The explosion sent shrapnel flying across the room, leaving trails of blood. The sergeant was thrown against the wall and collapsed to the ground, clutching his side as blood poured from his wounds.
“SERGEANT!” the fourth yelled, rushing to his side.
“I’m… fine…” the sergeant coughed. “Hold the line.”
He pulled out his Beretta and checked the ammo—two full magazines. Not bad.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the stairs. A creature burst into the room, aiming its weapon at the grenadier by the window.
“BREACH!” the sergeant shouted, firing his pistol.
The creature roared in pain and fell, spraying bullets wildly. Most missed, but two hit the sergeant in the shoulder and stomach. The room filled with his agonized scream.
“Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!” the third yelled, fumbling with a medkit. “Sergeant, hang on!”
As the squad prepared for a last stand, completely out of ammunition and ready for hand-to-hand combat, the roar of engines suddenly broke through the chaos, followed by the thunder of a heavy machine gun.
One soldier glanced out the window and saw two MRAPs mowing down the enemy with their turret-mounted guns.
“IT’S SP1! GET TO THE VEHICLES!” the machine gunner commanded. “Three, Four, help the sergeant!”
They carefully carried the sergeant into one of the MRAPs. A medic from SP1 immediately began working on him, hurriedly unpacking his gear.
“Pulse is weak—we need to stop the bleeding now!” the medic said, pressing a bandage against the chest wound.
The MRAP sped away from the battlefield, leaving the chaos behind. Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Everyone was silent, watching the medic work.
The sergeant’s eyes fluttered open. He gave a faint smile and whispered:
“Good job, everyone... we made it...”