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Special Event discovered.
Special Event: PA_CYOA ongoing.
Special Event: PA_CYOA is unregistered.

Registering...
-Error- PA_CYOA_Mod exists.
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Complete.

Registering Special Event: PA_CYOA...
Restructuring [Consequences]...
Special Event: PA_CYOA in effect.

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Inconsistencies (34) found.

Restructuring recommended.
Time to completion: 11-43 hours.

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1989/12/04 11:37 AM - Mars

It all happened far too quickly.

One moment they were saving people, those armored-infected as well as infected bystanders; and then the next instant, pandemonium spread like wildfire within the Mars Headquarters.

Those very same people they were saving had turned against them. The mind-control was back.

The only possible answer was that they were infiltrated and someone had counter-hacked the constant hacking on the suits of those they were trying to save. Which in turn, allowed the mind-control to seep back and spread to other infected individuals, armored or not.

Automated defense turrets firing argent energy weapons and guns with 12.7mm Nano-FrEMPHEI rounds were destroyed before they could deal any lasting damage. Some enemies were killed, but they were too numerous to cull and were far too deep inside the bunker complex, which they overran within an hour.

Thus, the initial self-containment protocol on the Mars Headquarters was initiated and all the wards activated, trapping in the infected extra-dimensionally-possessed humans. As well as keeping out any and all that would dare enter or observe the headquarters.

But the situation on Mars was nothing compared to the total chaos spreading across Earth.

The alien armor pods, that landed on magically enabled lands were all exploding upon reaching any kind of ward system, as if they were tactical missiles aimed specifically at the wizards.

And there were too many.

The blasts, the resulting explosions? They may not have broken the actual wards but the after effects were so virulent that anyone not wearing a self-contained environ suit were dropping like flies, slowly morphing into aliens.

There were too many pods.

On the non-magical population at large, the same could not be said for it was at an entirely different level. Governments were being harassed within 30 minutes of the alien armor pods' deployment. Any army that tried to fight back were either crippled or outright disabled.

It was war.

And the whole world was unprepared for it. Everyone tried to fight back, but those who resisted the most were found dead almost as quick as their declaration of resistance.

It all happened while the aliens spewed propaganda and controlled psychological battle cries geared towards fear and confusion. But one thing was made clear.

An alien civilization calling themselves 'the Progenitors' were invading and subduing Earth.

Human resistance was futile.

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89/12/04 11:30 - Pacific Ocean, Silverdrift Central Operations.

Reports were mixed.

One report states that Earth has fallen.

One report claims that efforts to fight back were successful.

Some reports state that the fight is about to end.

And on, and on, the reports went with one thing as the common point; the Silver Army was fighting back with success no matter how minimal.

World order was being established no matter how many times they may fail. Although coordinating such efforts were harder than it was. No matter the preparations Supreme Commander Kusanagi did under her father's guidance with the advisement of the strategists and tacticians, it was difficult to wage war against a psychogenetically-enabled extradimensional enemy. Let alone an entire armada of them.

Thankfully, the Silver Knights were equipped with the best they can be provided with; Energy Weaponry and T-81 MJOLNIR on top of their Nanosuit 3 or Praetor Mimic.

It did not matter if the enemy was as mobile as they were, or equipped with their esoteric power armor's capabilities, or if they range from humanoid to mechas the size of a Fortress.

No.

The Silver Knights had responded through sheer destruction with only minor casualties to show for. The T-81 MJOLNIR was more than enough to shield against energy weapons and high caliber Nano-SAPHEI rounds on it's lonesome. But with the addition of energy shielding, it became extremely formidable.

And that was not to speak of the sheer modularity of the armor when it came to what the person was wearing underneath. If it was a Nanosuit, T-81 MJOLNIR will recreate a facsimile of the Nanosuit. If it was a Praetor Mimic, which is a lesser version of the current Praetor Suit, then all the features of the Praetor Mimic are also made available to the T-81 MJOLNIR model.

It's primary purpose, and design, was to be a shell of armor to encase it's user. From there, T-81 MJOLNIR became an armor layer, an additional plating, to use as a boost in protection.

It did not matter if the primary armor itself was weightless or provided no movement restriction; this secondary armor was made to augment pre-existing armor that the user was already wearing.

And this certain invention was what allowed the Silver Knights to win their battles through attrition. As soon as can possibly be available, reports were to be compiled and sent to the nearest Mobile Command Vehicle (MCV) and forwarded to Planetary HQ.

It was what allowed lagging, but steady, real-time battle information.

Through these analyses of enemy behaviour and tactics, a common thread was quickly forming. The details regarding the threat- these... enemy power armors that have mind controlled it's wearer, as wel as unarmored infected, have been using an almost similar version of Rejuvenation Nanites.

A Rejuvenation Nanite was made for quick application in combat much like how a stimpack is. Only these Alien Hydranites weren't functioning with similar intention as Stimpacks or Rejuvenation Nanites; they were gruesomely forcing a genetic modification on the subject instead.

The genetic code was identified to be an alien genome with circumstanstial information hacked from enemy power armors to prove and verify the findings. It was discovered that this was how the "Progenitors" propagated; priming the victim's DNA to undergo the most painful genetic modification as they change into a pale imitation of the "Progenitors" before they enter a final stage to change into an actual "Progenitor" that can mind control like Yuri.

And they were multiplying.

On Earth.

"Hey man, were these reports sent to High Com?"

"It was."

"Fuck, will they send them in then?"

"They already did."

True to word, the reports came in; Rogue-class Titans have been deployed across the whole world through surgical slipspace portals to combat these "Progenitors".

"... what are we doing here man?"

"I don't know dude."

"I mean, those are Rogue-classes. Why are we still monitoring everything? Those things are mobile command centers, spaceship, and Mecha all at the same damned time! Not to say of the Fortress-"

"Dude. This here? This here's our job. It's Standard Operating Procedure. Thank the old-guy-stuck-in-a-kid's-body whom we have as the EternalPresident/Emperor that he gave us jobs. Now shut up, dude."

"We're clones for goodness sake man, what are we here for?"

"Stop whining, dude."

"Man, we're made to be on the frontlines. We even have our own armor sets! We have to be on the frontlines!"

"Dude, seriously- oh damn, get back to monitoring!"

As soon as he finished speaking, another thousand of reports and status updates that they need to forward had blazed through their screens.

It took almost no time at all with the help of their Post-Human and Neural Up-Links and other Neural Implants. Almost.

Within ten seconds, they have forwarded another batch of annotated reports to High Command on Void Haven.

"Man, what I would give for some actual combat."

"Shut up and get back to monitoring."

"I mean, even if our bodies die, our souls wouldn't because our magnanimous Eternal President was a bleeding heart and made us the DreamNet. We're clones for crying out loud! We're meant to be expendable and not some precious manpower-"

"Dude, you're going over the top agai-"

"I mean, we could reach a certain point in time where there are just too damned many of us that it's too boring. We're practically immortals now, what with unlimited cell division and near limitless supply of energy to do with as we please. And even if our bodies actually die, DreamNet takes care of the lack of a body!"

"Dude. You're- you know what, why don't you compile a comprehensive analysis and summation of those ideas you got and send it to High Command?"

"I don't knooow... the President might go on another rampage because he realized I was right. I don't want another rampage. Because the last time he did, he made the DreamNet and the Titans... and the Vault System."

"... dude, just fucking send it and get back to monitoring. I know you've finished the research already and that's why you're ranting. I know that You think you're right. Stop pestering me and just FUCKING SEND IT!"

"Alright! Alright! Jeez, can't a man get a moment to rant-"

"NO! FUCKIN SEND IT NOW!"

"-fuc! There! I sent it!"

And they fell back into silence and reporting, annotating, and forwarding all data they receive to High Com. Hoping that these Progenitors were ended as quickly as possible.

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89/12/04 02:30 PM - France

Everywhere I looked through with my cloaked eyebots, I see enemies in Power Armor.

Mesh Suit, Artificial Muscle Suit, Light Power Armor, Medium Power Armor, Heavy Power Armor, Quadrupedal Power Armors, and powers armors the size of a fucking Fortress-class Titan; all of them were wreaking havoc on the ignorant people.

I was very, very thankful that these animals were emitting a memetic/psychogenetic wave that disguises them as normal humans to non-magical people. If their focus were disrupted, then they will appear as power-armored individuals. If they were to remain focused, even computers and cameras will have them appear as normal human to Homo Sapiens.

But not to Homo Magi.

And Homo Magi are the ones targetted by those pods.

Ada and Alisa were both overclocking all their systems to respond and coordinate our planetary defense against the continuous onslaught of those Armor Pods dropping from the slipspace portals and into the Earth's atmosphere.

The various governments that I have already infiltrated with my agents were in the process of being secretly subsumed as I, and my entire martial might, crept onwards to eradicate the Armor Pods that mind controls the infected people.

I was panicking, raging, and decimating enemies left and right due to hysteria.

I don't want this earth to fall.

I don't want humanity to lay back and get massacred.

So I raged, and raged, and raged, and shouted and spat and screamed to secure our fucking airspace against extra-dimensional invaders.

When it finished, I breathed a sigh of exhaustion.

Let us start from the beginning.

Back in 1985, I began my own Intelligence Agency that developed into a Shadow Government by 1986 whose reach had spanned the whole world. A hundred thousand cloned people, all inserted into the society straight from thin air and sandwiched between the unsuspecting masses.

In 1986, I have fallen into a berserker fugue that I managed to shift into rapidly creating untested technologies that slingshot me from the very edge of Tier-I Tech onto the realm of Tier-II. At this point I could build any heavenly body by means of stellar lifting and many other esoteric ways to use technology.

By 1987, I was ironing out some of the kinks in my contingencies in case of apocalyptic levels of events that may or may not occur. It was when I discovered the magical world that was kept from the homo sapiens, the masses, by the homo magi. Then the "accidents" happened and I started the subsumption of different people in the magical world that prioritizes magical lineage over skill.

By 1988, I have mastered several of my magical studies and chose to pursue the development of technomagery or magi-techniques and have spawned the initial means with which I could solve the problem of entropy; the Mystic Fusion Reactor.

By 1989, my skills in magic had reached a plateau and my Shadow Organization has completed the established goals I have set and was at the pinnacle of levels to execute global take-over, all I needed to do was to tie it all up into a proper knot.

But in December 4th, 1989; hundreds of small slipspace portals opened within the Earth's stratosphere and rained down upon magical people and creatures.

It was indiscriminate.

Upon crashing into the soil or whatever terrain it landed on, it began emitting psychogenetic waves that beguiled the minds of unprotected magical people, including squibs; homo magi that had lost in genetic dominance, trumped over by homo sapien genes.

What followed next was the tide of Power Armored individuals coming out of the Armor Pods who began to slaughter and terrorize the world at large. Wave by wave.

The first wave showed extremely high levels of technology and combat capability. As the waves went on, their equipment got weaker. But their strategy and tactics became ever more cunning.

These... infected individuals are slowly being tortured by being genetically modified while awake and engaging in slaughter of every man, woman, or child.

Without warning or pattern.

Nor conscious thought of their actions.

When some of my agents got infected, they eventually broke out of the trance by their own free will from the surprise attack; they discovered themselves healing from the infection when Rejuvenation Nanites fought back. Human nanites were purging alien nanites and restoring their bodies.

Then the flow of battle statistics flooded the Intelligence Network. It took my people three minutes to initiate a Global Defense Coordination Effort to begin fighting back against these animals.

Alisa tried her best to free the 'innocent' people and partially succeeded. We could hack the armors and temporarily release the wearer from his/her trance. It all failed when one of the infected power armored individual thought to haul his own Armor Pod along with him when he was sequestered to the Mars Headquarters.

All hell broke loose and I had to lock-down Mars from France with nothing but my magical might to force-transmit my intent by ripping apart the space in front of me and opening it to the other side on the surface of Mars. Just the size of a penny. And once I have force-transmitted the codes, everything went to lockdown.

The Mars Headquarters was where the slipspace-capable ships were stored. There are ten working ships that could ferry them anywhere in the galaxy.

I was forced to send the remaining, undeployed, members of my army to make sure they do not get free.

It saddens me that war was forced onto my hands, I was only thankful it due to alien scum and not human scum.

But they keep coming; faster and faster.

And now-

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"Insta-Wall Justeaze!"

Said woman quickly complied and brought forth walls of titanium which was shortly supplemented by sandbags. An action that allowed them cover in an area where there were no covers.

"Squad-013! Converge on Seargent Aschweiß!" their president ordered.

"We're taking fire, Silver Actual!" Sarah shouted back on their comms. Without responding back, their President materialized a plasma grenade and kinetically shunted it from cover.

"Converge now!"

The plasma explosion disrupted the enemy fire and allowed their sniper, Sarah, to pick off targets as their spotter, Patricia, ran interference and tagged high-priority combatants.

Within seconds, they've converged on Justeaze and their president. "Sir, I've mapped out possible projections and got two tangible leads on the nearest pod-cluster." Christine reported as she fired her Heavy Assault Rifle Mk. LXXXI on infected homo sapiens. "Send m- good. #This is Silver Actual broadcasting update on possible Armor Pod cluster. How copy?#"

They laid suppressive fire as they awaited the nearest FOB's reponse. But it would seem that they were a step away from those armor pod cluster because of the active jamming that resembled a Gap Generator. Otherwise the message would have been responded to, already. They would have to settle for delayed response as the signal pierces through the gap.

"Prepare for Kinesis-Frag!"

Each of them stopped laying down suppressive fire and prepped fragmentation grenades.

"Ready!"

They pulled the pin.

"Launch!"

They activated their Kinesis Module and threw at Mach 1.

"Again!"

The frags exploded.

"Launch!"

They threw grenades once more.

"Advance; GO! GO! GO!"

They sprung from their cover and followed telemetric data and Threat Pulse results to pick their own targets. The first to go was their President who shuffled from one target to the next, neverminding if his bullets would hit or not. The rest of the squad took to precision firing sourced from the President's constant battlefield updates.

"Scatter!"

They dove for individual covers; covers that were created by their offensive efforts. One that their President insisted to do as they advanced.

"Insta-Wall Justeaze!"

The sergeant complied once more, falling into the rhythm that their President has exploited against these infected individuals.

Now, if only they could get comms running, those armor pods would be decimated. But they'd have to make do with the President and their 4-person squad if they the delay gets more than ten minutes.

"Prepare for Kinesis-Frag!"

The enemies were already low on numbers, most of which were rescued and trapped on Mars last they heard.

And that's the other thing.

"Ready!"

Mars.

"Launch!"

Most of their armed forces were tied up, fighting against the first victims of these armor pods. The first, second, and third wave of infected. Victims that had better resources, rather than the scraps that their current enemies on Earth had; the last waves of infected.

"Converge on Aschweiß!"

Everyone was running ragged, minute by minute. But the President was persistent. They're almost there. Just a few more.

Then they'd be rid of these alien scum.

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-now, I am mowing down infected Homo Sapiens in their own Power Armors while my knights equipped with T-81 MJOLNIR analyzed alien tech through destruction.

It started when we got to the Alien Armor Pods and decimated those pods by half. Then the remaining pods decided to grab the nearest Homo Sapiens to restock the lost Homo Magi and decided it's a full-on manslaughter.

One would shove a bomb inside a man's stomach, heal him, and then let him run after forcing his body get high on adrenaline.

Another would cripple a child, and let it cry, using it as a bait to target adults.

Combine the two together and you would get a child, stomach full to the brim with bombs, running towards safety.

...I cannot express anymore situations for they are too brutal.

The saving grace was that these arrogant Progenitors could not send more Armor Pods, I should know. It was due to my efforts (read; hysteria) of quickly deploying Dimensional Shields and Dimensional Anchors around Earth that locked them out.

My worry of encountering powerful individuals similar to Yuri was now justified because my people were found to be capable of resisting an Armor Pod's direct psychic attacks within minutes or less. Whereas the whole world at large was undefended. The only exception were magical people with a passable level of occlumency.

I could not, however, expect everything to continuously go as they currently are. Even as we eliminate the remaining Armor Pods that dropped from whatever dimension it was, there were still stragglers that we may have missed; magical people still infected with these Alien Progenitor Scum and their nanites that forcefully changes a human into one of their blasted kind.

Alisa, bless her, put forth a plan that will undoubtedly put me or her as the figurehead of our now so-called "Silver Empire" that protected humanity against these kinds of threats since the Dawn of Time. This plan only came through, because, within the first hour of battle, Alisa identified who caused this fucking clusterfuck.

It was a barely recognizable garble of observation, but one that Alisa abused through and through. With her own cloaked swarm of eyebots and a squad of special forces wearing Nanosuit 3, they conducted an assault on suspected individuals that performed a Divination Ritual, according to hearsay.

Knowing that any Ritual was banned by the ICW and can only be performed under the strictest of supervised circumstances. Even I knew to be cautious, even if I myself doubted the magical populace and their intelligence.

As it turns out; underprepared rituals that were performed in the past, especially divination rituals, were known to attract beings from beyond the void, barring those performed in shielded and highly protected environments.

When the Assault Op was conducted, it turned into a rescue operation and then intel acquisition when the nearest Armor Pod sent infected Homo Magi to pre-empt them destroying said Armor Pod.

There, under torture, the Death Eater confessed all his crimes and all he knew. And to verify the information, he was memory-flashed and sent to the Mining Facility in the Pacific Ring of Fire via Portal.

When the verifications went through, Alisa almost burned her computing systems in pushing forth the plans for creating verifiable "ruins", "artefacts", and "information" that would indubitably prove the existence of my "Silver Empire".

And that was for the Homo Magi.

Since the Homo Sapiens at-large only saw "human" terrorists due to the infected emitting their own psychic waves to disguise them as "humans" in an effort to disrupt the Earth's Homo Sapien populace, and although there were people who saw power armors, they could chalk it up to technology due to the fact that they couldn't see anyone underneath the armor.

It had allowed for my agents to begin take-over of the governments during the commotion.

Already, I am concocting complementary plans and courses of action for my Intelligence Agents to fine-comb through, so that we may use the United Nations as the needle that will thread this whole planet together and push forward for a unified government that I will have total control over.

I have lots of things to do, sometimes I just wish I didn't have this capability, but then I get to ask myself; if I can and no one else could, why shouldn't I?

A question I've added to "Questions That Will Never Get an Answer."

But we're here, with me killing infected people left and right, saving those who can be saved and ending the lives of those who cannot be. I did not want war on my hands, and these alien scums forced it down on me.

I swear, I will annihilate them.

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89/12/04 11:30 AM - Void Haven

Alisa was running herself ragged.

Not to say that her sister Ada wasn't, but Alisa doesn't have the luxury of free-access to the entirety of the battle networks due to the way that her sister directs the entire battle plans that their father put forth.

No, it is because she was operating from the void and commanding hundreds of people down on Earth to begin the fabrication of ruins and other believable proof which will "verify" that the Silver Empire was indeed defending Humanity since the Dawn of Time.

It was all a ruse.

Lies.

The plans involved the Silver Empire lying in wait, slumbering, waiting for the enemies that would see mankind to it's extinction.

It just so happened that these Progenitor-scum dared to attack the Earth. Now her sister Ada was losing herself to commanding the entire planet in it's Global Defense and it has only been an hour since the attacks began.

Alisa herself is no better but she has been operating from the Void where the entire computing power of their father's infrastructure was based on. Ada had to make do with using whatever scrap of computing power was available from the battlefield down on Earth.

And that, is not involving Mars.

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89/12/04 12:03 PM - Hogwarts Great Hall, Instance #02

Silence held the hall.

"I'm raising the wards to wartime. Everyone who wants to leave may not leave. Owls are still permitted. Your parents are already notified. No, you may not know what is exactly happening. Instead, continue your stay here at Hogwarts until we are sure the problem has passed."

This wasn't the Dumbledore they knew.

This was the Great Albus Dumbledore.

"We are in war. Hence the wartime wards. Now, everything here in Hogwarts will remain the same with the exception of seventh year students heretofore conscripted to Hogwarts Militia. Sixth years and fifth years are to train with each other's housemates and year mates. No exceptions."

This was not Professor Dumbledore.

This was the Leader of Light.

"Lessons are limited to those only done inside the castle. Broom and Quidditch practices are cancelled until further notice. Curfew is to begin at six of the evening. The points system for the House Cup is hereby limited until we resume normal classes."

This was not Headmaster Dumbledore.

This was the Dumbledore that ate Dark Wizards for breakfast.

"Professor McGonagall will begin recruitment of students to help transfiguring the field around the Hogwarts Proper into defensive lines. Professor Flitwick will be her second, to help ensuring bolstered defenses. Professor Snape will handpick students to help in brewing potions much needed for the coming days. Professor Sprout will work with Professor Snape to gather and order ingredients needed. Professor Ferns will begin Defense lessons for all years from first years to fifth year. Any and all other staff will be available for help otherwise. Students are not allowed to go outside the castle, failure to comply will result not in expulsion but permanent banning from the castle."

"The students helping the professors will be given temporary apprenticeships so that they may be excused from classes. This, of course, will come with proper certification so there is no need to panic. To those who wish to suggest or ask questions, I will now allow open forum, but remember to speak only when allowed."

The Slytherin Head Boy immediately stood up and waited for Dumbledore to acknowledge him. With a hand gesture, he was acknowledged.

"What of our families?"

Everyone observed with bated breath as Albus Dumbledore heavily sighed. "I will not lie, I wished for this to have not been discussed but I will only say that the Ministry and ICW are already handling it. All muggleborn families are being secured into the nearest auror safehouse. To those who are born to magical families, your homes and their wards should have more than enough power to sustain an assault, if not, then the ministry is more than capable of sending help."

Dumbledore looked to the other students, signifying that he had dismissed the Head Boy.

He picked a hufflepuff student. "How will we eat or survive?"

The question raised Dumbledore's eyebrow, "We have enough food supplies to last us a whole year. In fact, we have enough resources to last a whole year. But since the Ministry is already working with the ICW, rest assured that come this boxing day, we would be free of this problem. Anyone else?"

Another hufflepuff was chosen, "What of our enemies? Why are they attacking?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "We do not know who or why they are attacking us, but we know they address themselves as the Progenitors. They wear formidable armor better than those of magical nature. They use weapons similar to those of muggles but extremely devastating that, simple magic could not properly defend against it. We do not know where they came from, exactly, but we do know that they are powerful and as physically strong as Hercules himself. There is no exaggeration, I saw one break free of the metal debris he was buried under. Anyone else?"

A ravenclaw this time, "How do we protect against them."

"That will be discussed with those who will volunteer under Professor McGonagall. I will not put anyone under unnecessary harm. Next?"

A slytherin took the spot light, "How do we escape?"

"Should the castle be overrun, each dormitory will be locked away, hidden, via magic older than me to a safer location. I do not know how but the only hint will be found after the fact. Next?"

"Can we last against them?" A gryffindor asked.

"The castle is built on top of a magical nexus and it's wards have been connected to it since it's founding. It has only grown stronger as time passed and it's previous headmasters have added their own power and ward schemes. Next?"

"Against all odds, what if we were forced to face one of them?" the same gryffindor asked.

Everyone asked the same question in their minds.

"Pray that it does not happen. Work hard to make sure it does not happen. Help each other to make certain that it will not happen. And if it happens, you would not be here to witness it."

A hufflepuff took the floor next, "Uh, headmaster sir, why are we not using brooms? Will we use them?"

Everyone, and their thoughts, shifted at the questions.

"Can you expand on that, my boy?"

"Sir, it's, can our enemies fly?"

Everyone waited in silence for Dumbledore.

"... I do not believe they can, but let us assume they have countermeasures. Now, please elaborate."

"If, uh, if we can hold the air, we can defend without getting harmed?"

Everyone thought the questions over and came to the same conclusion as the Leader of Light.

That's stupid.

If you fight on the ground you will only have to pay attention to those in front and on your flanks, with the occasional backside from ambush. But that's what allies were for. And when considering aerial combat, you would have to shield your underside as well as you back, front, and flanks.

An extremely taxing defense when most wizards could barely defend their fronts.

And not to say of Jinxes and wards that were made specifically to disable and counter most forms of flying brooms and magical carpets.

"If we use better brooms, we could, we, we could, uh, outfly them." the boy continued, "We can use conjuration and drop items?"

"The idea has merit. But I'm afraid I won't have students flying in brooms. Or students fighting themselves."

"But, headmaster, the seventh years were conscripted."

They forgot, and the boy reminded them.

"Ah, yes, forgive my age. The Hogwarts Militia is not and will not be fighting but instead will be transfiguring stone and soil into whatever they could. These transfigurations will be our defenses. At the confirmation of the enemy, we will have all houses locked away and the entrances hidden."

There was an extremely dark reason why magic carpets were banned. Dumbledore was thankful he had shifted away the idea of attacking enemies on brooms, let alone them using it against an enemy.

"Yes?" Dumbledore motioned to a ravenclaw prefect.

"Will the library be secured?"

Dumbledore smiled warmly, "All knowledge will be locked away and only made available upon the rejoining of the moved houses. Of course, it would never come to that. We are only preparing, not actively participating-"

The Great Albus Dumbledore was interrupted by ten different patroni smashing into his person and shaking him in place at the podium.

Everyone, including the professors, wished it didn't happen for the Headmaster before them was gone. Only Albus Dumbledore remained.

"All students," he began in that powerful voice filled with intent, "To your dormitories. Now."

Chaos would have broken through the student body if it weren't for the intent behind his voice.

As it was, they slowly but surely went to their respective dormitories. Some were still shaken from the confusion and conflicting emotions that afflicted them when Dumbledore first began.

The younger years though, were subjected to magic filled voice of Dumbledore and thus were experiencing shock. Thankfully, everyone understood what was happening and was helping those who needed it.

Albus Dumbledore was gone, and the air of Hogwarts was now filled with soft lukewarm buzz. Where ever he went, only the professors knew.

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The wizard known as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is first and foremost a scholar even with his many titles and accolades accumulated through his very long life.

Such wizard is now going to meet with the leader of this slumbering "Silver Empire". He had met them before of course, but that was in the heat of battle where he was forced to respond to critical areas across Britain.

His first meeting with the soldiers of this empire went as rotten as it could from his expectations. The first of which would be the total likeness of each person to one another, almost as if they were the same person.

Then came their armory. Wearing armors that could take on any shape or form in the midst of battle was one that warriors of yore would covet and trade their firstborn virgin daughters for. The swords they wielded would not even be classified as swords for the simple logic that they are made of actual light that burns just as hot as the sun against vampires; turning everything into dust whatever the sword touches.

Their ranged weaponry was nothing to scoff at either. It would seem that the Silver Empire's armaments could outperform those found on the "Progenitors" and then push beyond it.

Dumbledore approached a knight wearing that silver-plated armor he had seen on hundreds of other knights before.

"Albus Dumbledore, Spreme Mugwump of ICW, here to see your 'Emperor' along with an ICW Retinue."

The knight-guard gave a salute in the form of clenched-fist atop his chest, thumping the chest piece, and readily took point as their guide into what looked like one of the most esoteric multi-levelled structures that bore the similarity found in the combination of muggle techniques and all the magic as much as humanly possible.

As they were led through floors, Dumbledore took it all in. When they reached their destination, some form of imagery was made manifest in their minds.

It served to give the tone of deference to whoever was leading this so-called Empire through sheer respect. Not through intimidation, not the promise of mutually assured destruction, not even derogation, and most certainly not arrogance.

But the one standing, almost looming, over the a sophisticated table of untold magics at the end of the hall? It set a vision of an extremely dedicated leader. The man, as Dumbledore could see, was doing something with his hands. Attached to those hands were strings and directly connected to the chiming table. Such table was nothing but an extremely advanced table of unknown magics.

The man was clad in almost the same armor as the other knights although this one was outright screaming KNIGHT.

The man perked up and addressed the gaggle of wizards, "Ah, welcome. We have a situation in our hands. I expect your cooperation."

An outright statement. Not a question or request, just a statement loaded with expectation. One that damaged the pride of those behind Dumbledore. Though pride would not find an easy purchase on someone as Dumbledore today.

"We are to see the... 'silver' emperor."

The Knight took one good stare at the entire gaggle of wizards and spoke, "The emperor is in France right now, leading the extermination of these alien scum. You can to talk me, Colonel J. Hendricks. Any concern of yours will be directed to the emperor as soon as I've analyzed it."

Dumbledore stood still and took it, and did a second take.

If he was a lesser man, he would've thrown a hissy fit. But he isn't, he's using his own Time Turner right now and could stretch his time and attention towards this debacle. He could afford to be patient and not cause a time anomaly.

The ones behind him on the other hand...

"Why you-! We wasted time to meet someone else?!"

The knight in full armor tilted his head to the side and his helmet receded, as if disappearing to somewhere. "Would you rather have the world plunged into chaos?"

A good argument can always be used to incite a momentary mental block on a hot-headed person. But rarely can logic do anything but buy momentary pause.

"We demand-!"

As the talks devolved, Dumbledore thought of ways to better manage what needs managing. So that when he turns back the time once again, it would all be self-consistent and he would remain within the same universe albeit in a different time coordinate.

Ah, what Dumbledore would do for someone he could give his duties to, and go back to pursuing knowledge.

One can always dream.

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Hendricks was... baffled.

These wizards were politicking in the middle of a fucking apocalyptic event. Another reason to be thankful for the Eternal President.

If it wasn't for most of the Armor Pods already destroyed, he'd be throwing these cunts and continue unabated in his duty. Sadly, his duty now involves dealing with these pissants because the nearest high-ranking official was him, the rest were trying to reclaim the overrun Mars Headquarters.

And all of them were high-ranking, all the senior most officers were retaking Mars HQ and he was the only officer left behind to help the President and his daughter Ada to retake Earth. Not to mention of the men directly under their command... which left Hendricks with even less people to retake the earth properly.

Hendricks was about to shoo them away when the Supreme Mugwump of theirs corralled them to the side and began dialogue with him.

"What is being done in response to this threat?"

Hendrick responded by waving a real-time holo-feed to spring up from the holo-table. "Currently, we have decimated their forces by half, and the rest are hiding while coercing normal people to fight for them."

There, he did his best. A half-truth. Considering that the targets were magical beings and now that they can't quickly mind control magicals, they're using Homo Sapien Sapiens.

"What can the ICW do to help?" the Mugwump asked.

Hendricks considered available courses of actions for the moment but decided against it and went with, "Advise everyone to stay behind warded places. It seems these Progenitors are not risking warded places of considerable strength. If possible, evacuate people from populated areas if they haven't been affected already. And if by any chance you see this-" the live holo-feed was cut and replaced by a Progenitor Armor Pod "-avoid it at all costs because it will be stronger than an Imperius when gets hold of you. Do not attempt to destroy it from a distance, it will be useless. Any other information will be coordinated through this eyebot."

The Supreme Mugwump eyed the spherical Eyebot with only it's underslung twin laser rifle and front speaker grill to show.

"How do I use this automaton?"

Hendricks gestured and the Eyebot beeped and chimed. "It will now scan you to authorize your usage. Do not be alarmed." Then the Eyebot proceeded to scan the wizard with light in the visible spectrum, which could be done in infrared but was used as default behaviour to conceal it's true capacity. "If you talk to it, like any person would, it will respond to the best of it's abilities."

The wizard observed the Eyebot for a moment as it scanned him with those blinding lights and asked, "What are it's abilities?" Hendricks gestured again and the Eyebot switched to scanning from the visible spectrum and into infrared while gearing up for multi-tasking.

"Designate coin as target." Hendricks threw a coin into the air and the Eyebot caught it with a Kinesis Module.

"Impressive for an automaton." voiced the wizard.

But the Eyebot snapped upwards and fired it's twin underslung lasers onto the coin which then sent it up on the ceiling.

The Supreme Mugwump barely caught what happened but as he studied the rapidly cooling red stain on the metallic ceiling, he could guess the automaton fired a similar weapon to the Progenitors that then launched the coin away. Leaving behind nothing but a molten stain.

"Is th-" was all he could say when the eyebot suddenly disappeared from sight, as if it was using the Cloak of Invisibility. He twitched his right elbow to check if it was at his side, and it was, then came the befuddlement as to how it could have done tha- it suddenly re-appeared behind him in a silent hum but he had sensed it nonetheless in a manner of battle instinct when his body abruptly turned on it's own.

"I almost missed that." he said, turning back to the Colonel.

Hendricks nodded, "It can also act as a messenger to us, just talk to it saying you wish to communicate and-" the eyebot activated it's comm suite and flared up the holo-projector displaying the bust of Colonel Hendricks speaking in real-time, "-like so."

The wizard was amazed, the politickers were mesmerized. The wizard, Hendricks could understand because he saw the deadly uses of the eyebot and knew it could've killed them at anytime they were within it's range. But the politickers were salivating, whether it was through it's spying potential or it could be used to their own benefit or whatever it was; they were seeing it as a tool for further politicking.

"I'd like to conclude this meeting. Although if you want to help us that much, I suggest to begin excavating somewhere in Africa and the Asia for our old fortifications. They may be nothing but crumbling ruins; there might be some missing texts pertaining to these Progenitors. That is all. For any questions or clarifications ask our information officer at the second floor." Hendricks mouthed off the top of his head to preempt any more foolish ploy.

The wizard then talked one last time to the politickers and promptly left with the eyebot.

Finally, he could concentrate on his actual work.

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14 hours after initial invasion

Reports, objective updates, raw data from environmental recordings, and so much more information flowed into Ada and she did all she could to redirect the brunt of battle statistics to her and only to her. The rest were to be rerouted to her sister and her creator.

Triangulating wizards were hard enough when the creator first tried to insert spies and sleeper agents into their society. It was an effort which involved a lot of guess work from knowing the general location of magical energies it was they detected.

The problem now was that the Alien-made Armor Pods were using something similar to magical obfuscation, as well as the rudimentary version of a Gap Generator of the Allied Forces from Yuri's Universe.

Any one of the two was hard enough to fight against. But when combined, it made it almost impossible to even scan for the generated Gap made by the Gap Generator on top of when the magic was concealing the Gap as well as the magical signature through obfuscation.

The best approach they have done was to back-track the way the infected Homo Magi and infected Homo Sapiens had spread and traveled. It was good enough because it was estimated to have led to the elimination of half of all the Progenitor Armor Pods.

Right now, she was coordinating efforts to decimate them all in their entirety across the whole planet and begin reverse-plotting the probable coordinates of their wormholes and send eyebots to probe for information.

But her first focus must be on solving how to establish a fully coordinated Global Armed Forces. Which was proving to be extremely taxing when everything must be both macro-managed and micro-managed by rapidly consuming the reports and updates sent by all military assets capable of analyzing information of major import.

Thankfully, Alisa was there to help her with Logistics and maintaining the Information Infrastructure built by their creator.

Fortunately, between the three of them, the plans and objectives were already laid down and can be followed by any subordinates even without guidance.

And much more fortunate was that she wasn't involved in plotting and planning the fate of the entire world anymore. Those were now left to her creator, sister, and their Intelligence Office.

A few more hours, and they would be rid of alien scum.

She just have to hold on.

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20 hours after initial invasion

As tiring as everything is, I have to persevere.

Only a few hours more.

I can almost see it.

Every single infected individuals; DEAD.

We cannot cure them all.

I know we could save unarmored infected... but those with armor here on Earth cannot be saved.

The ones who were saved and were trapped on Mars, they can be saved.

But- but I don't know for sure.

I am... I'm just...

... I'm tired of this manslaughter.

I just want to get to my sister and wake her up.

But no.

I have to start a fuckton of projects and organizations.

I have to establish dozens of plans that will ease the whole world into unity; a few assassinations here, a few choice words there, a little bit of homicide, a dash of seducing women, a pinch of terrorism, a handful of wars, and a helping of institutionalized hypnotherapy.

All for achieving my plan to tie up this world into one government while I have my people working in the shadows.

Once I've met the initial requirements, I could start the slow introduction of "Discoveries", "Innovations", "Inventions", and "Advanced Technology" to begin transforming the world into an Interstellar Empire.

And Alisa will be the Empress.

All of that, in just two decades.

I fucking hate myself.

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23 hours after Invasion

"That's a wrap S04, salvage groups have marked your positions. RTB. Repeat, RTB."

"Copy, FOB-02. S04 enroute to base."

Colonel Hendricks sighed.

The armor pods were fully decimated. Only infected individuals remain. He could already imagine the headaches.

First, the quarantine.

Second, the monitoring and tracking.

Third, the logistics.

Fourth, the cleansing of alien tech and documentation.

Fifth, would be blah blah blah.

And so on, and so forth.

Until it all comes down to fully eliminating the remaining the last traces of those Progenitor Bastards.

It was stressful.

"-s is Silver Actua- Hendricks, are you listening?"

"Yes my lord!" He straightened in surprise.

The president had unexpectedly called.

"Begin cleanup procedure and establish quarantine around the known armor drop sites."

He gave a curt nod, "Understood."

"The rest are on Alisa's action plans, expect to receive them within the day."

"Anything else, sir?"

"No." And the holo-call suddenly dropped.

Hendricks sighed once more.

"You all heard the President. Let's get to work."

He pulled up the files for Emergency Planetary Flood Quarantine and set to modify it for the current situation, and hopefully finish before he could get the action plan.

He has to submit his own version of plans to cover as much as possible. It'd be very hard if a Progenitor successfully hid away. It might destroy all they have worked for.

Thankfully, he is not alone in this endeavor.

"I want this Flood Quarantine action plan modified to suit our needs within fifteen minutes! Double time!"

There're still lots of operations to finish. He can only hope, they'd finish this early.

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1989/12/06 12:30 PM - Undisclosed.

"General Santibañez, what's the status on our... contracted facilities?"

The general gave an initial nod, "They are doing very well. Extremely, if I might add. The vault in Hope, Idaho is doing above and beyond expectation. And the research for making SS are on it's way to human trials."

The president nodded.

"General Harrison, any update on our weapons?"

"There are innumerable updates, yes." The general motioned to a screen, "If you pay attention to the slides, you will see that all our projections are being met. Whatever this... Big Mountain Research Facility is doing, has done wonders that our soldiers can benefit from. West-Tek and Vault-Tec have both been honest with us and the contracts were upheld. Blackwatch reports great success on their choice of weapons."

The president nodded, this time he held back a sigh.

"Now, for the question that I dread to ask. What of our current situation?"

A general stood and caught everyone's attention.

"Yes, general Clarke?"

"The civilians are relatively safe. If a bit... panicked. There is this... claim by the Silver Empire that says they were hiding in their city underwater-"

The president scoffed, "Fishmen popping out of Atlantis?"

Everyone chuckled once, or twice. But General Clarke was not amused. "Very funny Mr. President. Now, as I was saying; this Silver Empire emerged from the Pacific Ocean, near the Ring of Fire, to begin responding against this threat."

The general pulled a remote and the screens hanging in the middle of them changed into photographs, scans, and videos of documents, ancient buildings, artefacts, and ancient scripts. Together side by side were the recent photographs and satellite images of the current Silver Empire.

What went through their sights made ridiculous implications that no one wanted to be true, so the question had to be asked.

"What are we looking at Clarke?" asked on the generals.

Clarke looked around the considerably large round table, "You are looking at the proof that this Silver Empire existed since before the Sumerians."

Silence.

He could see the gears on their heads begin to turn.

"Preposterous!" the President shouted.

General Clarke only raised one of his brows in annoyance and clicked next on his remote, "Carbon dating suggests that these collection of scripts depicting and describing the Silver Knights to be dated at least 20,000 years ago."

The president began to hysterically shout, "20,000? TWENTY THOUSAND?! TWENTY FUCKING THOUSAND YEARS AGO MANKIND WAS BANGING ROCKS TOGETHER TO SEE IF THEY COULD GET BIGGER DICKS! 5,000 YEARS AGO THE SUMERIANS WERE ONLY BEGINNING TO TAKE COMMON FUCKING SENSE THAT ROCKS WILL NOT GIVE BIGGER DICKS! ARE YOU TELLING ME THEY EXISTED BACK THEN AND THE PROOF OF THEIR EXISTENCE JUST SUDDENLY POPPED TODAY?!"

The other generals seated around the table couldn't help but give a nod to the president.

"No, I am not Mr. President. These documentations and findings were made almost a century ago, recent re-examination this last half century showed the carbon dating. Then it was swept aside due to, and I quote; "Another made up story of those damned witches. We should've burned these, if not for the fact that they seem genuine. Still, these should never see the light of day." That... is the reason why we never knew this possibility. It was swept aside because they thought it was another tall tale made by witches and wizards."

The president began seething but managed to find his words. "So? Why are they showing up now? Why not when we were raining down the fucking nukes?! Why not when Buddha decided to shave his fucking head BALD? Why not when Jesus FUCKING Christ died? Why NOW?"

"... you have to understand Mr. President; the Silver Empire was speculated to be the first, and the last, World-Spanning Empire. These collection of artefacts and ruins were found around the world. They might be waking up because an extra-terrestrial threat has come to Earth. There's no telling, really."

"What. are. their capabilities?" the president hissed syllable by syllable.

"They seem to be capable of using energy weapons, combustion guns, and high-tech armor... As well as magic."

"Magic? MAGIC?! Don't tell me they're the reason we have those freaks waving their wands around!"

"The results of our genealogy seems to indicate that they are one of the reasons there is magic. But no. If they were the reason magic exists, then why were there other magical creatures? Creatures unrelated to humans?"

"Maybe they smoked the plants, fucked the animals; I don't know General Clarke, you tell me." The president snarked.

"It is rather simple. The planet itself has magic. Following that reason, it would seem that humans who gamed magical creatures and ate plant life back then, and became magical through selective evolution."

"Bah! We're wasting time discussing useless history. I want to know what the fuck we can do to get them out of the country!" the president shouted.

General Clarke sat down and gestured to the ground, allowing everyone to recognize he had conceded the floor for anyone else who wishes to speak.

General Calhoun stood up, "There is nothing we can do, Mr. President, besides war."

"Now, we're talking. What kind of war then?"

"A cold war, shortly followed by a proxy war. We'll contract hit wizards armed with guns. Although we may have to setup family planning so we don't run out of wizards to throw at them. Wouldn't want to waste good american soldiers would we?" General Calhoun proposed.

He earned a few nods but the president had other ideas, "What else? I don't want to fight a protracted war, just look at the last few decades. If we make a family planning for those wizards, it'd take us two or three decades to finish this. No, we need this done. And we need it done yesterday. Any idea- yes Mr. Secretary?"

The secretary sat up straight, "I believe we could engage diplomacy- hear me out. Once we've engaged in diplomacy, we begin preliminary probes on their capabilities. Meanwhile, we get hit wizards all around the globe to try and gather intel on this empire and bob's our uncle."

"...meaning?" the president asked.

"Know thyself, know thy enemy. Once we know what they can do, and begin testing hypothetical combat scenarios, then we proceed with low-yield nuclear bombing. Wouldn't want another Hiroshima and Nagasaki."

"Seems rather brash to me."

"That's what I got with our available resources. If we were doing this say, thirty years from now? We'd be better off it happened then. But it's happening now. Heck, we were unprepared against ET! And thank fuck this Stupid Silver Empire took care of it for us."

The president let out a gruntle. "Fine. Connect us to united nations, with full security. We all have to discuss the threat this Silver Empire pos-..."

What they don't know, was that their ranks have already been compromised. And they would all be busy plotting against the Silver Empire until the next day.

All of which are known and subtly influenced.