Brooklyn, New York
Twenty Templar agents patrolled the mostly empty buildings, which were one of the many places the Illuminati rebels liked to hide. They separated into pairs to easily comb the area. Though the area seemed quiet, save for the squawking of sea gulls, little did the Templar know that they were being watched. Unfortunately for them, that was when they were attacked.
Gunfire erupted from behind a parked truck, slamming into one of the Templar. Returning fire, the surviving Templar took cover in various places. More rebels joined the fight, ambushing the Templar from behind some crates. Bullets ripped into nearby walls, kicking dust into the air.
Conjuring electricity in his hands, a Templar unleashed a powerful lightning bolt at a tanker near the rebels, turning the fuel tank into a massive ball of broiling fire. Several of the rebels screamed as they were wreathed in flames. With fearful shouts, the rest of the rebels fled.
Chuckling in derision at this futile rebellion, the Templar squad leader ordered his team to chase after the rebels. With hoot and hollering, the Templar gave chase, shooting at the fleeing rebels. Unfortunately for them, the battle wasn't over yet.
No sooner had the Templar had ran about fifteen yards from the docks when what looked like a swarm of tiny, red, glowing objects streaked toward the group from an unknown source. One of the Templar yelled when the swarm hit him full on his chest and buzzed around him. The Templar leader's eyes widened in surprise to find that the objects in question were only ones and zeroes. He was even more surprised at what the affected soldier did next.
His eyes glowing red and his face contorted in rage, the Templar whipped his gun toward his teammates and opened fire. Three Templar were killed immediately while one was wounded.
A quick shot from the leader's weapon put the rampaging Templar down but not before the strange red numbers swarmed toward a nearby Templar, bringing about the same symptoms. Before she too could kill any more of the team, the Templar leader put a bullet through her skull.
"Get back, dammit!" he yelled, keeping his distance from the swarming numbers. His team followed suit. Soon enough, the numbers shimmered into nonexistence.
"Who are you?!" the leader bellowed. His yells echoed throughout the docks. Motioning quietly to his squad, the Templar leader ordered seven of his squad to take up a defensive position behind a nearby car. He ordered another six to scout ahead and ordered the last Templar to carry the wounded Templar to safer place. No sooner had he gave the order when chaos broke loose.
A loud explosion knocked him into a pile of boxes. He bit down in pain as the force of the impact dislocated his left shoulder. Renewed gunfire erupted from nearly everywhere, effectively pinning his squad into a small but intense kill zone, with only meager cover protecting them from certain death.
Peering toward the burning wreckage that was a parked car a few seconds ago, the Templar leader saw what remains of the seven he'd sent, some of them dying while the rest were already dead. Gritting his teeth in anger, he realized that the rebels have purposely led his squad into a trap. They were the one's responsible for booby trapping the car.
Glancing in the direction of the Templar he'd sent to attend to his wounded teammate, he saw their still bodies laying in the distance, pieces of shrapnel embedded into their flesh.
Two more cries alerted him to the deaths of two more squad members. He looked at the last four members of his squad, realizing that the situation is hopeless. There was no way to radio for backup. His walkie-talkie laid in pieces near where he was bodily slammed into the boxes by the blast.
Meanwhile, some of the rebels were advancing toward his squad's location, some kind of bluish, shimmering dome protecting them from bullets. One of the Templar, out of desperation, attacked the rebels with bolts of ice energy. The attacks only encased the shield with ice, which the rebels simply shattered with gunfire before moving closer. The Templar leader swore loudly as the rebels begin mowing down the rest of his squad when they got close enough.
Crying foul, the Templar leader raised his gun to fire when the rebels stepped aside, revealing a person he never expected: a young woman. Bluish number were streaming from the top of a strange staff she held in a hand. Frozen in disbelief and shock, the leader only watched as the girl unleashed a visible mass of electrified air.
The Templar leader convulsed as the electricity coursed throughout his body, paralyzing his limbs. Only able to lift his head, the man only watched as the woman deactivated her shield and walked toward him with a purpose.
Anger welled inside of him as he got a better look at the woman. He figured that she was the one behind all of this. To think that his squad was lured to their deaths because of the brutal cunning of this woman! Hell, despite her torn clothing, she looked more like a school teacher or even a librarian than a rebel leader!
Flanked by the rebels, whose faces showed hatred for the oppressive regime of the Templar, the woman walked up to him and squatted next to him. Despite her vanilla-scented perfume and...bountiful frame, the man only felt loathing. These rebels have some nerve opposing the Templar.
"Fortunately for you, you will live," the woman said with a British accent, glints of light reflecting off her glasses. Up close, she has a doll-like face, which added to the Templar leader's anger at being best by this worthless upstart. "But only to tell your leaders that, no matter what, we will fight them with every means imaginable until they leave this city. Tell them that they will soon know the true meaning of war."
Despite his predicament, the man chuckled derisively. The woman simply tilted her head a s the rebels continued to glare behind her. "We, the Templar, are strong enough to even flush out your precious Illuminati from their own city!" he boasted. "What makes you think that we would let a bunch of ragtag bastards push us out?"
One of the rebels growled and took a step forward, aiming his machine gun at the Templar leader. "I'm sick of these Templar assholes!" he barked. "Let's kill him already!"
The woman stayed him with a hand and continued. "It's quite clear that you don't know your history, chap. Despite not being as technologically advanced as their American enemies during the Vietnam War, the Vietcong managed to hold them off long enough for the American citizens to force their government to pull out the troops. Additionally, the Afghans also forced the Soviet Union to withdraw." The woman gave the man a wink, which he found disgusting. "You see, brute force doesn't stand a chance against the will to be free or to live, coupled with brains and a general knowledge of the battlefield."
The man scoffed. "Guerrilla warfare is useless if you can't touch the enemy . One particular agent fighting for the Templar is a man who is known only as 'Prophet'. Prophet can predict any enemy's movement before the doomed fool even consider using it himself. Mark my words, bitch, you cannot defeat him. No one can! You and all your dirty, filthy friends will die!"
Smirking, the woman stood up. "Deliver the message to your leaders," the woman said. " Oh, I forgot. If you happen to meet this 'Prophet' and he is interested in me, tell him that I, Britannica, cannot wait for fate to cross our paths."