A Heros Rebirth Ch 01

~Hey Readers,

This first chapter is gonna be a bit long, due to the amount of world building I had to do to make the story at least seem complete enough to post. I don't know how big future chapters will be, but I hope you enjoy this. I know fantasy like this isn't everybody's thing, so if you don't like it, that's okay. This isn't my only project, hopefully you can still find something you like. If people like this, let me know. I've been nervous about writing less grounded and realistic stories, but I felt like this was a story I had to get out.

Thanks for reading,

~NaughtyPaladin

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Chapter 1

The middle eastern sun beat down on the desert as the single cloud mocked those below by refusing to grant even a single speck of usable shade. High in the mountains a compound swarming with those who the West considered extremists, armed to the teeth with weapons procured in a variety of methods of questionable legality. Captives, mostly women, were moved to a holding cell as men were lined up to be forced to join or die. Walking proudly among them, safe in his stronghold, Moghadam, one of the top leaders of the military group, looked over the new recruits.

Unbenounced to these militarized men using a thin religious patina to be petty tyrants, death was moving in. Although outnumbered almost two to one, US special forces moved in on the compound.

Moghadam began yelling in Arabic at the captive men, and his firing squad laughed at the kneeling bound men. I picked up a few words, but my Arabic wasn't the greatest. I was quick to pick up languages, but I hadn't been in country quite long enough to become fluent.

I pressed the button to activate my comms, "Hitman, you ready?"

Hitman was the team marksman, and would be our opening shot. If he could take out Moghadam then our mission was a success and any other military extremist we put in the dirt would be perks. It had taken six months of hard work lining up this mission. Moghadam was a ruthless killer and letting him escape could condemn hundreds to death.

"Hitman is on target."

"Ready to engage. Hitman, begin when ready."

Moghadam grabbed a rifle and went to shoot one of the kneeling men, probably to make an example for the rest. As he raised the rifle, a single shot rang out and instead of the kneeling man, Moghadam dropped to his knees, then fell on his back.

Chaos erupted in the complex, the kneeling man rose to their feet and ran to flee, their hands still bound behind their backs. Spread around the ridge the members of my squad began raining lead down on these absolute despicable examples of the human race. Though outnumbered, we quickly pressed the advantage of surprise and brought the number of visible combatants down. Adrenaline flooded my system as I moved from target to target, utilizing my sniper training to take out targets with precision as several members of the team provided suppressing fire.

Within moments, all movement within the compound ceased.

"Beetle, give us eyes." I ordered.

The scouting drones we carried rose into the air, zipping down into the compound. Three operators covered Beetle, named for the way the headset made him look, as he maneuvered the drone to ensure there weren't pockets of hidden resistance.

The minutes crept on.

"All quiet, prepare to move in." Beetle reported.

"Marksmen, maintain positions. Liberation team, move in."

Two three-man teams moved down to the compound.

"All hostiles confirmed cold. Proceeding to the liberation of captives." Pyro called over comms.

The mission was a success.

"Congratulations boys, we live to die another day." I called over comms. "Keep eyes out, just because we took out the present hostiles doesn't mean more can't show up."

Four hours later we were extracted back to base.

As safe as we could be while deployed we tried to relax.

"Nice job, Wolfhound." My friend, Jacob, codenamed Cleric because he was our medic and was infamous for being a nerd and loving his Dungeons and Dragons, always trying to recruit team members to play with him.

"Kept you sitting on your thumbs, Cleric." I smirked. Anytime the medics were bored was good, no one wanted injuries on the squad. "You coulda brought your wife to sit on your face, woulda been just as useful, would have boosted moral as the squad got a show."

Cleric laughed, as did Hot-Rod (our field mechanic) and Buster (demolitions with Pyro). Cleric's wife was freaking hot, and had been hot through her pregnancy and bounced back like a champ. And while oftentimes, service members would be worried about infidelity while deployed Cleric wasn't worried. His wife was the most faithful woman I'd ever met and had thought he was the best man in the world, even with the birth-control goggles he'd had to wear through basic training. We teased him about his trophy wife, but we all knew we were jealous. Many of us had no idea what we'd do when we got out of the services, but Cleric would just transition from military medical to civilian medical with no debt because the military had paid for his schooling.

Jacob and I went way back. When my dad had offed himself while I was in Middle School, Jacob and his family had been my support circle. When my mom got cancer, and was dying in the hospital for my high school graduation, Jacob's family had been the ones to bring me congratulations and had supported me. We'd enlisted together, been assigned to the same unit, gotten promoted together, accepted to the special forces together and now I led his unit.

I'd promised his mother that I'd die before I came home without him, and I'd meant it. While my deployed paycheck was nice, if I died no one would really miss me. I didn't have any relatives, excluding some like 3rd or 4th cousins like two times removed or some such bullshit. Cleric had a wife who lived for him, and a 2 month old little girl that I was not about to let go fatherless.

"Wolfhound, don't get comfortable, we got a tip on the Armorer." My superior, codename Silverback, our commanding officer, intercepted us. "Get your squad together for briefing, you engage in one hour."

The hair stood on the back of my neck. The Armorer was our codename for the lead arms procurer for these militaristic bastards. We didn't even have a name or picture, just knew that with him gone the number of arms the extremists were getting would be cut at least in half. Having just taken down the Executioner, having the Armorer pop up was too good to be true.

"We sure this isn't a trap?" I asked.

"Too much of a risk to pass up." Silverback declared.

We were dropped off near the canyon that was to be our strike point forty-five minutes later, with fifteen minutes to get in position.

"Hot-Rod, cover Beetle. Beetle, give me eyes." I ordered.

The drone went skyward and most of the unit moved toward our strike point.

Comms crackled, "The canyon is crawling with assholes. I count 30. I have to ground or I may give us away."

"Confirmed. Rejoin and we'll find our engagement point." I growled.

I didn't like this.

"Cleric, stick on me. Hitman, what's your assessment." I requested.

As a trained marksman and sniper, just like Hitman, I could pick out where we'd hide ourselves to engage, but having taken up leadership it wasn't my job anymore. I was to manage and coordinate my operators, if I spent the mental energy doing Hitman's job it would just hinder my efficiency.

"10 o'clock. 150 yards out. Secondary ridge." Hitman called.

"You heard the man. Move." I barked into the radio.

We crept into position, utilizing natural cover to keep hidden. We had a ridge behind us and we were in the channel between the primary and secondary ridges. Once in position, we peaked with our perioscopes over the edge. The tiny cameras would be impossible to see at distance and it would keep our helmets from showing while giving us visibility.

"Beetle, you sure on that hostile count?" I asked over the radio, seeing only twenty men.

"100%." Beetle replied.

Then I saw him. One of the interpreters. Among the hostiles.

"Fuck, we've been setup. Prepare to extract." I cursed.

Movement on the ridge caught my view.

"Hostiles above! They have our six!" I barked.

Cleric turned and I saw a turban over the ridge as an RPG pointed our way. I glanced at Cleric. This was not happening. He was not going out this way. I coiled my body and used every muscle in my body to push him away. There was no way I'd get him 40 feet away, outside the potential blast radius on an RPG, but I aimed him at a crack in the ridge. If I could knock him in there, the terrain would protect him. I made contact and everything seemed to slow down. I heard the click and ignition of the RPG. I heard the rush of the oncoming rocket. And just before the split second roar of the RPG detonating, I saw Jacob drop between the rocks, his face horrified as he took one last look at his best friend. Then it was all over and my world went black.

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I wasn't religious. I knew enough about christian beliefs to hope that they were right and I'd done enough that I'd make it to heaven, but I doubted. I wasn't special and I hadn't set foot in a church since my mother's funeral.

It took me a little while to realize I was still thinking. I hadn't expected that after dying. I'd kinda expected there to be just... I don't know, but nothing. Turns out that wasn't right.

It didn't feel the same. Being dead. It was kinda like being entirely numb, but that wasn't right. I was used to feeling my body, but now there was no body to feel. Luckily, opening my eyes as a disembodied soul worked the same way as opening the eyes on my body.

I hung, no, I floated, in the middle of a strange room. I had no body to be affected by gravity, so I just hovered with my feet above the floor. Smooth columns circled the room, and a clear pool sat in the middle of the room, glowing slightly. There were no doors and the only thing in the room was a chair upon which sat a fair woman with golden hair and piercing silver eyes. She wore a white sleeveless robe of sorts, tied around the waist with a golden sash. She seemed bored but intrigued by me. Her robe covered her fully but I could tell at least that she had the right curves to be a woman, and small mounds in the correct places to be breasts, but something about her wasn't quite human, but in a mystical and entracing way. Not in a robotic, uncanny valley way.

"Welcome to the afterlife, mortal." The woman greeted me.

I raised my hand to wave and noticed I could see straight through my hand. I could tell where my hand was but there was no substance to see.

"Fear not, mortal, this is a place of peace. A place of transition. You may be at peace here, warrior." The serene woman told me.

"What... What's going on?" I asked, my voice ethereal and almost alien sounding, though it was still clearly my voice.

"You have died." She answered simply. "But the time you have been allotted before you return to your creator has not elapsed. Each man or woman is given an allotment of time to learn and grow during their time on earth, according to their needs and the needs of those around them. When their time is up, they are called home to their creator, but there are some circumstances where your time on earth has ended, but you are still allotted time before you must return home."

I looked at her in confusion, "So I am not supposed to be dead yet?"

"It is not so simple as that." The woman explained with a shake of her head. "The creator values the freedom of his children because without that your lives on earth would be meaningless. In his wisdom he perceives the choices you will most likely make, but in all cases he has prepared for your existence to be fulfilled prior to returning to his presence."

I looked at my barely perceptible translucent form. "So... what am I right now?"

"You are a spirit without a physical body." The female replied.

"And... What are you?" I marveled.

"I am a servant of the creator. I believe 'angel' is the most accurate term you would be familiar with." She explained.

"Don't angels have wings?" I blurted stupidly.

She smiled, "Wings are necessary for lesser creatures to fly. As a servant of the creator, if I needed to move, the elements would support me at my will, rendering wings unnecessary."

"Oh..." I concluded lamely. This was new territory. None of my training prepared me for this.

"Now, before we discuss your additional time, let us resolve your concerns regarding the life you left. Please, look into the pool." She intoned, motioning to the glowing pool.

I found I could drift forward to the edge of the pool and look in. The water rippled, revealing an overhead view I immediately recognized as the canyon that was the scene of my... my death.

I watched from an elevated position as the situation unfolded. I pushed Jacob into the gap between rocks and my body disappeared in what was called "the pink mist" as the rocket hit my bulletproof vest and detonated.

Jacob screamed in horror and the rest of the unit did as they were trained. Hot-Rod took out the man who had shot the rocket. The hostiles scrambled, but once the initial surprise was over my unit was far better trained and more capable. They didn't move to push in further, but extracted as I had ordered. There was nothing left of me to return, except my rifle which Jacob grabbed.

I watched them safely get back to base. I don't know how long I watched, but I saw the deployment end and my unit return to the States. I saw Jacob tell his family about what had happened. They were the ones who received my honors and since I had named Jacob as the recipient of my life insurance policy they were set up. I saw the nice tombstone Jacob had placed for me, next to my parents. And I got to see the life I had bought for Jacob. He lived a long and healthy life, becoming a surgeon and saved countless lives. His wife stayed by his side and they had five children.

When the pool rippled and returned to stillness I felt peace. I would cry, if I had eyes to produce tears. I knew I had made the right decision. My life wouldn't have been half as beautiful and impactful. I backed away from the pool.

"Your sacrifice has earned you a rare honor." The angel gently informed me.

"Oh? What is that?" I sulked, only slightly off put that knowing the beautiful life Jacob had lived that I hadn't been able to share it with him. We could have been friends to our old age.

"The creator has made allowances for his children who pass before their time due to heroism or great sacrifice to be permitted a second existence in the realms of other divinities, as champions and chosen representatives." The angel explained.

I looked up at her, "What?" I'd heard stories like this. Jacob liked things like this and kept trying to get me to watch shows or read books about plots like this. "A second existence, like being reborn?"

The angel held her hands out, "Depends on the realm your second existence would be on. Some realms you would be reborn on, others you would be given a new body and be called forth by users of mystic arts."

I gaped. I had heard of this before. Cleric had talked about stories in anime. "Wait, of all the religions of the world... the WEEBS were right about the afterlife?"

The angel chuckled, "Not quite, but the diverse nature of the afterlife means that many belief systems have some degree of accuracy. In your rare circumstances, the idea of such an existence has been planted in the minds of storytellers for ages to prepare the spirits of such men and women worthy of it to receive such a blessing."

"So, I'd be a soldier again, fighting in another world with who knows what going on?" I summed it up.

"In a manner, yes. Your skills and desires will likely lead you to conflict, but many of the restrictions and limitations you experienced in your mortal life will no longer hamper you. It is merely an option, if you so choose you may return to the rest you have earned." The angel assured me.

I was a soldier, it was what I did. I knew old soldiers sometimes said after enough time in the force they were ready to retire. My only concern was, what would I be fighting for?

"So... If I took up this offer... What would I be fighting for?" I asked.

The angel smiled. A warm, but calculated smile. Like she had known what I would do, or maybe a few options of what I'd do, but I had selected the one she wanted. It was somewhere between unnerving and comforting, in a weird way.

"The world upon which you would live is in many ways different from the world on which you lived." She began, "You have been selected to fulfill a mystic summoning, a call to the Universe for aid."

"Wait. A Mystic call for aid? Like magic?" I clarified.

"Yes, magic is commonplace in the world upon which you would be granted a second life." The angel verified. "It is a skill you could learn and develop alongside the skills you would bring from your previous life."

"But... my previous life as a soldier specialized in marksmanship and sniping, what place does that have in a world of magic?" I demanded.

"Can you think of no way you could be of use to your new people?" The angel asked... Was she sassing me?

A memory jumped to my mind. In my memory, Jacob, his wife Sarah, and I walked out of the theater, after watching a popular movie about a wizard boy fighting a dark wizard.

"That was amazing!" Jacob exalted in my memory.

"Eh," I remembered grunting, "A good handgun and that would have been a much shorter movie."

"Blasphemy!" Jacob had gasped.

"Maybe not as much as you think." Sarah had agreed, much to my surprise. "After all, the author said the reason the wizards had to be secretive and hidden was that they fought a war with the non-magic folk and lost. Who knows what impact guns really could have had on the story."

Jacob had wailed, "No! Let me have my fantasies! I want to be a wizard! Can you imagine how amazing it would be to heal wounds with a wave of your hands? To regrow destroyed bones overnight?"

I had laughed in his face, "Dream on, loverboy."

Coming back to myself, I began to wonder if it really would be that simple for firearms to trump magic. I mean, I knew how firearms were produced, but that would require me to be able to find ways to smith them...

The amused smile spread on the angel's face.

"Can you read my mind?" I asked.

"No, but your thoughts are easily guessed. Now you wonder if the people you would be aiding would be worthy of your aid, and grateful." She replied, and I swear she was teasing me.

"How... Okay, fine. Yes. That was my next question." I admitted. God, I hated being toyed with.

"I think you will find the people who's summons you would answer are good people, though all societies have their problems. And I think you would find them very grateful for your aid and your presence both." Her mirth was becoming more and more evident, ruining the image of the impartial arbiter of souls.

I am sure I was glaring at her, despite lacking a physical face with which to glare. "Since you seem to know everything, what would happen to these good people if I don't go help them?"

Her face dropped, the impartial arbiter was in place once again, "They will be exterminated. The survivors will be enslaved and abused until they succumb to their captors and die."

I was pretty sure that if I had blood, at this moment, it would have run cold.

"No one else would help them?" I asked in horror.

The angel spread her hands, "There are infinite summon requests across infinite dimensions and while many summons are filled, some are not. Even if every spirit worthy of such an opportunity accepted it, not all summons would be answered. And many such spirits do not accept."