"It says What!?"

All my years as 3rd legion commander of the Separatist Insurgency Nations could have prepared me for... that. After about 20 years of fighting for reconstruction of the world after all the good people left and the world broke, a rather leading figure in our RnD department came to me. See, he was the top of the line in attempting warp travel in both short distance and long. And he had a hobby. After the rapture, the angels left a few artifacts in their wake in an attempt to completely obliterate the rest of humanity... it either didn't work or hasn't started yet. And on these artifacts were inscriptions. Most of them are intangible, but some of them are bible verses that can be reversed translated... well this scientist came to me with a deciphered alphabet as way to encode messages to and from as an added touch of security.

As he was presenting this to me, I brought the aspect of the stamps on all of our foreheads to mention. After all it's the Same language, and I'd feel rather proud about putting the Matter to rest after all these years. He looked at me and opened his mouth, then closed it then flipped the whiteboard he had to present the cipher on to its other side and started translating....

Which brings us back to here.

"Yes... I-it says 'd-do not harvest, n-not fit for--"

"I heard you the first time dammit." I didn't to get stern at the mad doctor, but the revelation was a little much, even for me.

The doctor sulked a bit. I let out a breath of fatigue and apologized "Sigh... I'm sorry doctor... it's just... all this time we all thought that they left us because they were destined, or they had earned it... not... Not to be culled like cows."

The silence that left was heavy

...

...

"P-perhaps we could avenge t-them?"

"I don't follow"

"You've n-noticed how some of the angels artifacts look like portals?"

Given that I was looking at the head of the field for our own portals, I think I can trust him "go on."

"Activate one of their portals, take the fight back to them"

I stood up and looked out the window, a training ground for troops doubling as a watch point due to its close proximity to the ocean... an ocean permanently stained red, and a blackened sky with no sun, a giant snake like monster breaking the depths for but a moment, daemons either of monsterus proportions, or of rather humanoid appearance, both with intelligence rivaling our own. Contact with the devil had made and a treaty had been made, for even his ultimate evil had felt sympathy for us, for hell had just expanded and we had been plunged into it all.

We had nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

We will not let this cycle continue again.

I grabbed the phone on my desk and rang HQ. "Get me Arch commander, I have a message for her."

I kinda imagine the juggernaut hit marker sound effect from the older call of duty games

The hit was simple.

A journalist by the name of Clark Kent.

Hired by some dirty cops to do some dirty work.

A couple days of planning and the trap was set. Clark had a knack for getting himself into trouble from what I gathered, so the plan would kill two birds with one stone. One, take out Clark Kent. Two, plant evidence leading cops to a rather nasty smuggling operation here in the city. (I left out the fact I had taken a job for them a few months back, less pay but a nice safehouse incase things went topsy turvy)

There was construction in a building across the way, a front for some old mafioso pals back in the day. Having remembered the service elevator in the back, I grabbed my bag and my suitcase and shipped off. Got to the site and field assembled ol'reliable, distance 100 meters, breeze? I lick my finger and stick in the air, none. I look through scope and through the window, favorite lunch spot with a window view, 4th time this week. Humans are creatures of habit. I load a round into the bolt chamber with a resounding clang, best sound In the world in my opinion.

I steady my breathing, account for bullet drop on the scope, and, just to be safe. I decided against the silencer on the rifle due to wanting them to find the evidence, but I upholster my 9mm and silence it instead, Incase things go that south.

I breathe out one long breath... and squeeze the trigger.

PING

...what

The bullet went through and landed on target, I'm sure of it. He fell down from his seat at the bench and then promptly got back up.

That... that hit, I'm positive

He looks at his coworkers, and assures them of his safety and then looks out the window.

Right at me

...yeah it's time to go

I begin packing up, leaving the "evidence" as I make my escape, fold up the rifle back into it's suitcase and back out. The 9mm in my back pocket ready to be drawn at a hai--

"Forgetting something?"

I spin around with the gun in my hand and fire at the voice

Ping

Superman

Godamn superman

That smug smile on his face is the last thing I see before waking up in the police department.