Hail the Brave K-Day +1540 days | 12th Military Region, 4th Fatherland Volunteer Corp | Manaus city , Amazon I lay on the worn out and damaged seat of a civilian militarized bus, the heat inside the bus gives me a lazy feeling, the sound of engines and conversation reverberates from outside. The rain finally stopped, we’ve been on the road for days. We travelled far and wide away from our cozy homes, we came from all around Brazil and from the otherside too. Can't miss them in the crowd no matter how hard they try. We finally hit the worst part of the journey, the dirt road that connects the North of western amazon to the rest of the country. Every experienced trucker will tell you how hellish this place was before the Konvergence, it became even harder after the portals. Thanks to the rain we’ll be knee deep in the watery mud trying to cross it, most of our trucks aren’t able to pass without getting stuck every 300 or so meters, so we’ll have to use our arms to pull them through when it happens. We are taking a rest before we continue, the dirt here is a bright shade of brownish red mixed with enough water for a small river. All around us is that immense green jungle, it’s so dense you’d think it’s one of those green labyrinth walls you see in movies and rich men palaces. We were told to keep our weapons ready, we could be attacked from the jungles at any moment, it seems jaguars aren’t the apex predators anymore and I don't like to think about that idea. Our column is composed of Trucks, armored civilian buses armed with 25mm cannons, fuel tank trucks, one cascavel armored car and a sherman engineering vehicle on top of a one of those flat transport trailers, we’re supposed to use it to build our battlements when we reach the city, or to prepare roads when we need to. “Isn’t it just better to use the rivers? Why are we even here” I hear a familiar voice by one of the buses. “Yeah i think they just wanna use us a cannon fodder so they can know what’s lurking in the jungles, fucking assholes.” Another one replies. I stepped out of the bus, alerting them to my presence “Shut the hell up you two, the rivers are filled with snakes and even worse shit, the Navy tried to clear it out for the last 3 years and all they did was waste ships and men, this is the best way to reach Manaus, so stop bitching like schoolgirls and suck it up, even my grandmother was manlier than you guys.” I exclaimed, angry at these “volunteers” They looked frustrated and angry. “Anyone seen the Commander?” I asked “He probably went ahead with the first platoon to scout out the area.” One of them replied dismissively. We are Vol-Pats, Fatherland volunteers. The personification of the desperacy of the times we live in, civilians led by policemen and reserve military armed with cheap weapons and whatever was left in stock. Our uniforms are the same as the army but we use metal emblems on our sleeves. The best way to find us in the crowd is looking for the guys with bolt actions and old ALICE or WW2 rigs. I have a Uru SMG, chambered in 7.63x25mm, it’s good enough. The commander finally returned, he’s an old white haired army reserve lieutenant, he’s in command of our battalion. He looks like Santa-claus but in a camouflage uniform and armed with a MD-97 5.56 FAL. He came with the First platoon, their boots are painted reddish brown and they look tired. “FORM UP!” A loud voice exclaimed, the message was repeated around the column, and everyone moved forward, some were distracted and almost slipped in the mud while moving, others forgot their weapons and equipment rigs. We reached the front of the formation, by the Cascavel and in front of the endless river of mud and jungle. It’s gonna be a pain to reach Manaus, that’s for sure. “Listen up gentlemen, I want no one inside the buses or trucks you will march by the sides of the road alongside the vehicles if any of them gets stuck you will pull it through. We’ll have the Sherman go infront to try and help create a better passage.” The commander said in his old and steady voice. The sergeants began yelling orders and the men were properly formed up into columns, meanwhile the metallic sound of a ramp falling into the mud and a diesel engine being started echoed behind us followed by the sound of tracks moving down. The commander boarded the Cascavel, this Cascavel wasn’t like any other one before the Konvergence. It’s 90mm gun was paired to a 25mm coaxial cannon, it’s ET-50 sub turret was given a twin 762 MG armament, turning it into a great jack of all trades. Able to protect us against the giant predatory birds and monsters that lurked in the greenery. Our big brother if you will. We began moving down the road, while the Sherman was brought up. The heat was almost unbearable and the place was infested with mosquitoes. But it was safe. The Sherman began plowing the mud with it’s dozer blade, followed by the convoy, we were a bit forward down the road keeping our eyes wide open for anything that could come out of the jungles or the skies. We were a hunch bunch, we had License produced M954A1 G43s, Uru MK3 smgs, Mosquefal bolt actions and a single Uirapuru GPMG, not all of us had helmets, most used simple camo caps or boonie hats. We looked straight out of WW2. Fighter jets flew over us at supersonic speed, their loud engine cry echoed on the skies for some time, everyone looked up, the guys from the otherside were awestruck and immobile. “By God, the most holy Mary and all of the saints, why is this place so hot?” Barbosa, one of the volunteers from the otherside said while wiping the sweat off his forehead. He had a fox tail and fox ears, There’s a whole race of people just like him on the other side of the portals, they quickly became our allies after our Armored regiments went to fight the undead that were threatening their territories, many volunteered to fight on Brazil, with nothing but a shallow promise of gold and land titles for payment. “Maybe if you cut that tail of yours off it will help, hahaha” Yamada, a short half Japanese guy retorted jokingly. “Very funny, Yuhmada, very funny.” Barbosa said. “By the way Barbosa, when are you gonna hook one of us up with one of your sisters?” I questioned Barbosa, gotta make sure to preserve the traditional joke that we cracked ever since he crossed the portal. “Fuck off.” Barbosa said. “Shut up all of you.” Sergeant Laurindo said, he is an old stonelayer turned NCO. “Halt” Upon Laurindo’s command we all stopped and aimed for our designated firing zones, it took quite a bit to drill that into us. The sound of something big crawling on towards the road, the trucks and the Sherman stopped and it felt like a heavy cloud of anxiety was in the air around us. It could be one of those big snakes that infest the rivers, we heard they often take refuge in the forests. A herd of capybaras ran through the road, a very big herd, some of them became stuck in the mud and couldn’t move, abandoned by their colleagues they started screaming in their own animalistic way, the subtle sound of a big crawler was still heard beneath the poor animals’ screaming. The cloud of anxiety became heavier, we maintained formation and it felt like a sauna inside my uniform. It appeared, a centipede, a single BIG centipede, the way it moved felt unnatural and eerie, you could see the armored chitinous carapace move along with its many legs as it advanced towards the defenseless capivaras. It advanced quickly compared to it’s size, which made it even scarier. “Target 12 o’clock, Open fire!” A voice came from a megaphone behind us, it was punctuated by the whirl of multiple whistles. We opened fire at the advancing giant centipede. we made it stop before reaching the capybaras, it began to bleed blue and died, filled with holes. Before we could rest and pat ourselves on the back for a job well done we heard more crawling coming from the jungles, we moved away from the forests and closer to the Cascavel and Sherman, waiting for them to come, doused in sweat and fear we waited. engine rumble for music. The cascavel turret moved, it’s mechanical eyes found something we didn’t after a short time the turret stopped and fired a 90mm smoke round, the recoil made the vehicle dance a bit and a white phosphorus cloud was seen in the jungle, the 90mm shot was followed by a burst from the 25mm Araponga cannon, we didn’t see anything but smoke and tracers where it was aiming. We waited, the sound of crawling wasn’t heard anymore, the ringing in our ears was loud but it was better than the anxiety-inducing eerie sound of insectoid crawling, after some time, the commander gave the all-clear using a megaphone in the Cascavel we moved to rescue the Capybaras and continued on our travel. Just another day of being reminded the world changed quite a lot in these last 5 years.