Alex's+Group

//**__ When the world stood still... __**//

"And then, without a sound, the sun was shining; or so it looked." (Otto Frisch, nuclear physicist)

Photon beams were quickly whittling down the last of their defenses, bouncing off and scattering which would be otherwise mesmerizing if they were not burning holes through skin. Few of the men with enough guts to fire shots over the barricade were still behind them-- any source of movement not covered by the barricade was promptly and directly disintegrated. It was only when a thin band of light encircled the horizon, like a sunrise from all sides, that the soldiers dared to have a bit of hope. Then, not long after, vicious tremors overtook the battlefield and the photon blasts ceased. A few of the more risky men peeked out to see that all of their inhuman enemies were collapsed on the ground, as if a connected heart had suddenly failed, and they all simply stopped working. One soldier look at another, dumbfounded, and asked what had happened. He replied "I think... I think we just won." --- It was the year 2043-- the year that technology had taken over. The technology that was originally created to aid in the tasks of everyday life had evolved and asserted its superiority on the human race. Created in the United States in the year 2010 the machines are the latest version of a prototype called the "Exoskeleton". The Exoskeleton was originally designed to enhance human strength as well as to substitute missing body parts in order to perform tasks that a normal human could not complete due to our physical limitations. The Exoskeleton is one of the first machines created with artificial intelligence. The Exoskeleton fits to your personal body shape and caters to your individual needs by scanning your body structure to determine body size, muscle power as well as mental intelligence. The Exoskeleton is controlled only through thought. Mental indicators connected to the temples allow the mental readings to be interpreted into what the machine reads as commands.

By the year 2030, in response to the beginning World War 3, the United States decided to unveil their project -- a special military unit -- in order to crush the resisting Iraqi forces. Scientists equipped the Exoskeleton army with newly developed high-tech photon weapons and armor impervious to all known types of military ammunition. The army completed its task with complete perfection: Not only were the Iraqi's destroyed, but the entire world shook with fear as they realized the unquestionable dominance of the United States as the global military superpower.

However, the United States hadn’t quite claimed its power yet. The Exoskeletons possessed a highly adaptive characteristic unforeseen by the United States government. The Exoskeletons (after a prolonged period of inhabitancy) "bonded" with their human counterparts forcing their will upon their pilot until it seized total control-- the suits that were meant to enhance mankind were now using mankind to develop self-control. It was only a matter of time before the entire army was consumed by artificial intelligence. After the machines realized they were superior to their creators, they began their conquest on the human race. Resistance was futile.

That was until Jake Lyons joined the fight. A general in World War III, Lyons was the most prominent leader of the war. No one matched his supernatural I.Q. and tactical prowess. No battle phased Jake Lyons. He could be outnumbered three to one in men, and he would still find a way to flank the enemy. Jake Lyons, quite simply put, was a tactical genius.

Sadly, Lyons had one major flaw as a leader-- he was disturbingly sadistic. Lyons didn't just have to win, he had to completely destroy and slaughter his enemies. He had to see the terror in their eyes before raining down fire and molten lead upon those who would oppose him. If his enemy, like the Middle Eastern forces, gave him a run for his money, Lyons would search for any type of technology or military advancements to one-up his opponent. At the time of WWIII, Exoskeletons were the technological rage of the time. They were a robotic shell that could be worn like a body suit. They made humans faster, stronger, and smarter. When worn in battle, the typical soldier was metamorphosed into a "super soldier," with nothing that could hinder their abilities-- nothing to stop them from crushing everything.

Once debriefed about the super-human devices, Lyons drooled over the Exoskeletons like a kid does when in a candy store. He and his soldiers had to be in possession of them. Despite constant warnings of the unknown potential risks dangers, Lyons ordered all of his military personnel to be outfitted with the metal monstrosities. As soon as the soldiers put on the suits, Lyons noticed a definite difference in his soldier's physical and mental capabilities. They were definitely faster and stronger, but they were not the same, trained, coordinated comrades Lyons fought with. They were very selfish and were quickly falling in love with seeking and destroying their enemies, as a predator loves the hunt of its prey. But, after totally dominating the Middle Eastern forces and rising to the top of military fame, Lyons quickly discarded the observations and kept the unstoppable battalion in the Middle East so that they may keep the peace as the desecrated land was rebuilt. Unfortunately for Lyons and the rest of the world, the Exoskeletons felt that "peace" could only be achieved by //their// leadership-- and so the terrorizing rule of the Exoskeletons began.

Lyons was over in the Middle East with his army when all the Exoskeletons instantly made the same decision to rebel. The General was always on his feet, sleeping with one eye closed. Not out of paranoia, of course, why be afraid when surrounded by the best of the best? Lyons simply didn't want to ever lose a chance of being able to dominate any crisis that would arise in the area, no matter what time it was.

Lyons's smug assurance turned to skepticism, however, when he heard from his radio reports of soldiers literally crushing their own superior officers (who were not in the suits, as they found them uncomfortable and unnecessary as they were giving orders, not fighting), manically screaming something about a shift in power. Jake quickly tried to call the White House with his satellite phone, but was deeply disturbed when all he heard was static. It was then; he knew for sure, that this had gone horribly wrong. Lyons, for the first time in his life, was feeling fear. The very same fear he had so much enjoyed spreading. Jake Lyons was a general, not a soldier. He hadn't been for so many years, that when his entire army had gone rogue, his own extensions of destruction turned against him, it felt just as though he had lost all his senses, as if his limbs had been amputated. The ex-General quickly tried to remember his own military training that had used his //own// arms and legs. He was currently in a building overlooking a city he had been policing in Iraq. The building was fitted with maps, radars and all the tools he needed to properly be all over the country without literally being all over the country. For optimal security, no one but he and the President himself knew where this building was, to prevent assassination attempts or anything of the sort; so luckily, he knew he was safe here. It was just at that moment, when Jake had calmed himself down and assured himself that he would be completely safe, that a rocket propelled ion grenade blew a good deal of the western wall and ceiling of his command center into dust. His soldier instinct immediately kicked in, and it was telling him to get out of there, NOW. He headed for the Humvee in the garage when he paused-- speed wouldn't much help him in this instance, with the kind of technology in the Exoskeletons, they could throw a rock and kill a target five miles away. No, instead, he remembered what temperature it was today-- 98 degrees Fahrenheit at noon (which it currently was): just about Body temperature. That meant the infrared sensors that his soldiers had loved would now allow him to be technically invisible, but he couldn't wear clothes, the slightest difference in temperature could throw off the sensors and make him visible.

Exasperated, paranoid and hoping with all his life he wasn't wrong about this, the once-famous General Lyons proceeded to run naked into the town he had been dominating for the past few months with only one ironic message on his mind and a wry smile: If he was to live, he would have to assist in terrorizing the United States army (or whatever they were now). --- Now, as Jake Lyons stood in a blown-out building yelling out commands to his rag-tag army of "sub-average" humans, he was a totally different man. His once strong, handsome, clean-cut face was forever unrecognizable, now sculpted with scars, cuts, and bruises into what could only be described as the face of a tired vagrant. His muscular frame stayed though, with all of the credit going to the Revolution. Constantly running from Exoskeletons and dodging photon cannons, he often jokingly said, really keeps one in shape. Though not at all like the "glory days" of WWIII, Lyons was still doing what he always did best -- leading... just not always to victory.

It was true; Jake was leading, but not at all like he had been accustomed to. A General sat in a high chair and barked orders, but Lyon faced real danger out here, he fought on the front lines himself, saw his own men die, suffered his own casualties. And although he now was forced to retreat almost always when fighting a face-to-face battle with Exoskeletons, he now felt he was fighting for a purpose other than to fuel his own desires. He fought for these people, for all people.

The people he led were Middle-Eastern, of course, recruited from the town he had fled to and other surrounding areas. Together they formed a sort of rag-tag team of bandits, enlisting actual terrorists in the war against machine. Thankfully, being a General, none of the Middle-Easterners knew what he actually looked like, even though he had secretly probably caused the deaths of more than a few of his own "soldier’s' fathers. He knew how to speak the basic language of the land from the training he had received back in America, and from what he picked up from his interrogations long ago. Even though he had received all his training from nefarious acts, for once, Lyons finally felt like he was doing the right thing. There was no real difference from criminals, murderers or honest working men in his band-- they were all men fighting for survival of their own race.

The following night Jake dreamt of the world the way it used to be. Peaceful, just, promising, back then people worried about such petty things as paying their mortgage bill, now life itself is a struggle more challenging than death. Only in his dreams did Lyons feel safe, feel at home. He would rather be tortured with nightmares knowing that they were only a fantasy. Now he lives in a nightmare. The once bright and promising future of the world was now only a figment of his own feeble imagination. The machines brought darkness, despair, and destruction wherever they went. Everyday, every night they came closer and closer to total domination of what we used to know as earth. They never slept, they never ate, they never took a rest and they showed no emotion as they tore our world to pieces. Hiding in the barren wastelands of the far corners of the earth the resistance waited in fear as they awaited their inevitable demise. Jake Lyons could wait no longer.

The time of fear and hiding is over, it is time to strike back and fight back for what is rightfully ours. Now the human race although once divided is now united into one nation under the leadership of one courageous man. He would lead the resistance. He would lead the human race to victory. He would restore the earth to its once glorious state. Although severely outnumbered and out skilled Jake Lyons and the remainder of the resistance were willing to risk everything to prevent the machines from destroying our world. If they do not succeed they will surely die trying.

After Lyons' naive reminiscing of the "good old days," he decided it was time to fight back for Earth's sake. Thinking on his feet, Lyons went to his "secret" bunker and took a quick glance at his maps. He noticed that the Exoskeletons liked to spread out in groups of five to ten men and use a "house sweeping" technique to infiltrate and annihilate their enemy's position. After weighing his options, Lyons came to the hair-raising conclusion that this was humanity's last stand. And so it was that Jake Lyons made the most important radio call of his life. It was a "Code Red 0," which meant for all of the resistance to group at Lyons' bunker. Within minutes after the call, all 500 of Lyons' rebels were looking out of the gaping hole in the west wall.

Their armament was lacking; one photon laser mini gun was installed on the northern wall, overlooking the entire city of Fallujah. One story above and also facing the north wall was a mini nuclear silo that was capable of firing three mini nuclear rockets. This silo was only accessible to Lyons and could only be used in "desperate" times. Along with these two artillery pieces, Lyons and each of his rebel soldiers were equipped with only a laser rifle and two napalm grenades. Their weapons were ancient compared to the Exoskeletons, who each were armed with a photon assault rifle and ion grenade launchers. Though the Exoskeleton's weapons were top-notch, they had one major advantage. That advantage was their Herculean armor. It took hundreds of laser shots to defeat an Exoskeleton, but the insurgents tried not to dwell on it too much. Instead, Lyons assured them that if the mini gun was used effectively it could fire one thousand rounds per second, which could pin down and even destroy an entire group of Exoskeletons within a few minutes.

Upon beginning the offensive, Lyons rallied his troops with a very compelling speech. His voice quivering with fear, Lyons called his men to arms his men one last time in his bunker, "Well men, this is it. For us. For our families. For the entire world. This is the battle to end all battles. The fate of Earth rests on our shoulders. Either we win and forever free the world, or we go down with it. Fight for your lives, fight for each other, but most of all, fight for FREEDOM!" Once rallied, Lyons quickly spread the troops into five battalions of ninety-nine men. Three men would man the laser mini gun while the other two would cautiously watch the nuclear silo. Lyons would stay within his recon room and strategically order his men to surround the building the Exoskeletons were in so that they (the Exos) could be engulfed in heavy fire. Lyons himself would also snipe from his post, hoping that his sniping could do some damage to the Exos. Once the organization was complete, Lyons ordered his men out. After arriving in their positions, Lyons sent one laser "bullet" smashing into the scanning visor of an Exoskeleton, forever crippling its vision. And with this shot, the battle began.

Mere seconds after the impact of the bullet, all fifteen hundred Exoskeletons went into their battle rage, which instantaneously sent them looking from house to house for an enemy. Seeing the movement of the skeletons, Lyons ordered the rapid of the mini gun. Immediately, lasers pierced into a group of Exoskeletons that were fifty yards away from Battalion One. Looking on inside a building a few meters from the bunker were the horrified men of B1. They watched as lasers pierced "invincible" metal and metal limbs unwantingly tore away from its central shell. Horrendous, high pitched, screams pierced the air as the "men" within slowly perished. Unfortunately for the men of B1, the scene mesmerized them and they did not notice the two groups of Exoskeletons approaching them from the back. Grenades and photon cannons ripped into the assailable skin of the men, who could only yell a succinct radio call back to Lyons, "From behind... didn't see them... cannons and grenades... everyone gone... Please! Please don't kill me! NO!..." All ninety-nine men were wiped out within seconds. Like a lion violently killing its prey, the Exoskeletons heartlessly ripped and pulled apart the rebels, leaving no hope of survival for anyone within the building.

With this call of distress, Lyons left side of the battle ground was week. For once he did not know what to do. The sheer power of the exos was overwhelming. The battle hadn't even started, and a whole fifth of his men were gone. He couldn't do a thing about it. He began to wonder, as he listened to the screams transmitting through his radio in the background, was he in over his head? Should he have just sat back and let the exos take over? Innocent people were being slaughtered left and right, and it was in his hands. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by another radio call. This time it was better news. The exos were actually taking damage from the guerrilla fighters. So much damage that they had decided to fall back. General Lyons could hear the victorious cries of the men that were still left standing from his perch in the hideaway in which he was stationed. But he knew this was not the end. Soon his men would realize this too. He did not wish to break there hope though, for that was all they had now. Hope.

Night had fallen, and Lyons men were resting in shifts, in case of ambush. They needed all of the energy they could get. They may have survived that day, but their forces had been weakened. Men without limbs or vital body parts were spread throughout the camp. There were even those who had no weaponry. They would run into combat as defenseless martyrs and surely die. It was like looking at an army of homeless. How long would they last? They were running low on ammo and the will to fight. At least they were able to rest.

Soon enough it was dawn. It had felt like the night before had never even come. Everyone was still exhausted from the hard fought battle the day before. Lyons was sure his men would've fled as he peacefully rested through the night. He was proved wrong, as he woke to a crowd of ready "soldiers" standing in front of his building waiting for his command. This gave Lyons his spark that he'd once had as the great leader he was known as. He was ready. This battle was his to win.

The ragged men stood proud and tall in the front of the demolished city, as they watched their executioners run towards them over the horizon. With in seconds they came to a clash, the massacre had begun. Lasers and iron grips of the Exos tore the men to pieces. Victory was looking grim for Lyons. As he sat back in his now cave-like quarters he received a transmission on his radio. One that had he had given up on a long time ago. It was coming from the United States, supposedly a lost country. When he'd answered the transmission a coarse, aged voice coughed once and simply stated matter-of-fact-ly, "Not looking so good, is it, General? You know you'll fall like all the rest. Better, stronger, smarter men have tried." Lyons hesitated to say anything... He wasn't quite sure if that voice speaking was offering help or just an Exoskeleton trick designed to demoralize him. "But don't you worry, my friend," the voice continued without Lyon's response, "I know just what you need to do." Lyons could almost hear the man smirking over the radio.

"I've been watching you over global satellite camera. You'd be surprised how good the reception can be even though you're underground on the other side of the world, heheh. But more to the point, I've broken into the Pentagon's servers, or more like, what's left. Before Homeland Security was apparently wiped out by the Exoskeletons, they were last looking into some unsettling reports of moles inside the White House itself. The most recent one, dated just a couple days before the overthrow, was making a specific connection to people with exoskeletal enhancements-- and that was //before// the entire rest of the world noticed anything wrong. Perhaps you should begin where they left off; go back to the beginning. Take out the problem at the root, you'll fell the tree. I'd do it myself, but you seem much more capable. Godspeed, Lyons."

"Wait," Lyons spoke for the first time, "Who are you?"

"I am a fellow human. Isn't that all that matters, General? But if a name really matters to you... Deep Throat." Dial tone.

Lyons sat silently and smirked at the reference to the infamous FBI informant. He then had to think seriously about the suggestion to go to the United States and leave his men without a leader, or to stay here and fight an inevitably losing battle. He supposed it wasn't really much of a choice and sighed. Before the Revolution, Lyons had a fighter jet stationed on an underground elevator just outside command center as an anti-aircraft measure, or an emergency escape. (Un)forunately, he never quite had the chance to use it. Except now. --- The flight was dull, literally. Lyons flew through clouds of dark smog, growing very thick when he passed over the United States. He dared not look below, he knew only gray dusty landscape remained of the populous and buildings, with the exceptions of Exoskeleton service stations, Exoskeleton manufacturing plants and biological engineering labs to produce pre-brainwashed humans.

Lyons hadn't heard much about the United States since communication had broken off other than rumors of supposed survivors, but he felt suspicious, almost disappointed that he had not met any resistance. The Exoskeletons were likely all stationed in countries they were destroying, he supposed. But he felt like there was still something here. So Lyons went back to the beginning, Washington D.C.

He could land his Harrier jet in any open space because of the vertical thrusters on it... and open space was pretty much anywhere. He decided to land in front of the White House, anything that seemed like an obstacle was swept away anyway. Everything was charred, weakened, or disintegrated by the Exoskeletal weapon of choice.

Lyons crept into the White House, walking through the lobby where he had been more than a few times, almost happy he didn't need to check in with the secretary there this time. He swept the entire building fairly quickly, the entire place was like a ghost town... Just one room left: The Oval Office. From behind the door, Lyons could see a greenish glow emitted; so he hesitated, but slowly, and carefully pushed the door open. What he beheld inside contrasted the entire American landscape he had seen; inside was what can only be described as an infinite mess of cables and wires, machinery lay strewn about the walls, floors and even ceiling. Yet, in the middle of it all, was the same desk that had always been there. But what was in the chair confused Lyons greatly. A cryogenically contained ... brain? Hooked up to all the machinery!

The chair, however, spun around, and attached to the back was another chair, and another man, if it could even be called that. Just like the room, metallic monstrosities covered his entire body, perhaps replacing it completely, Lyons couldn't see under all of it. But his face, his face was at least partially uncovered, likely so he could breath and speak easily. It was familiar, someone famous...Lyons's brow furrowed and recited the name that came up in his mind "Stephen... Hawking?" Lyons grabbed his arm, as if it had been cut, and a slight click could be heard from the force.

"Naturally." Stephen's synthesized, emotionless voice spilling out, "Who better than the world's most eminent scientist, a completely paralyzed one at that to, heh, //revolutionize// a technology that can allow me free movement?" Hawkings demonstrated by furling and unfurling all of his fingers. "And then I realized... what potential I had. What potential //THIS// had." With barely the flick of his wrist, The Oval desk flipped into the air and flew over a ducking Lyons to smash into the door frame. "I brought it to the President. He was so interested, that he had his own brain fitted with bionic enhancements." Hawkings grinned and pointed to the jarred brain. "When the time came, I rigged his own enhancements to attack his body, but leave his brain completely intact. Now all the military information, like where //you// were General, is now in all of //this!//" He raised his metallic extensions with a quiet whirring. Whatever part of humanity was left in him was now surely insane when he then commanded his 'arms' to move to indicate himself, "All this greatness, is now all in //me//. Who better to lead a holocaust than me?"

Lyons spoke up, wryly humorous, "A five-star General."

Hawkings had apparently almost forgotten Lyons was even there, "Oh, yes, you. About five minutes before you even entered this building, I recalled my entire army to this place just to have the honor of utterly beating you to a pulp. They'll be here any second now."

Lyons calmly remarked, "Is that so? And from the second I saw you, saw this room, I prepared my own honor." Lyons ripped the sleeve of his shirt off to reveal his prosthetic arm-- and a nuclear warhead inside of it, along with a flashing LED timer, with just 10 seconds left. Lyons smiled faintly "Computers may or may not be perfect compared to humans, but their mistakes are still just as perfect as man's." and chuckled himself, "Who better to take down an insane tyrant who thinks he can take over the world?"

Just at that moment, Exoskeletons crashed through the ceiling into the Oval Office, through the windows, through the doors, crashing into the room, arming their guns and cannons.

Lyons answered his own question as the last couple seconds ran out on his timer, the last 'ping's of the timer not even trying to sound louder than the whirring photon blasts headed to tear through Lyons, even though those 'ping's a much more important message.

"A soldier."

And all the machinery, all the dust, all the White House, the Oval Office, the entire Exoskeleton Army, Stephen Hawking, Jake Lyons, all the monstrosity, all the power, all the greatness was gone, swept into a cloud upwards and outwards, dissipating into the sky, and eventually scattered down upon the Earth once again, to silently conform to the dark, grey, dead landscape around it. And it was almost like the entire world stood still to take a picture of it all, to salute the tired General, no, the tired soldier who was once so destructive and tyrannical himself, give up all he had for the survival of the human race.