Conscripts

4th August, 1953

Pre-Judgement Era "Listen up," The Angel called as he walked in front of the children who were lined up in rows. His armor whirred in every movement he made.

The boy hadn't seen anything like it before. Thr armor looked strange and alien to him. The Angel was tucking his headgear under his left arm. His black Blast Rifle was magnetically attached on the spine of his suit. The insignia imprinted on his left shoulder indicated that the Angel was a Garrison Legionnaire; Angels that acted as expeditionary forces both in space battles and planetary assault. Though why he was here at the Sea of Glass, which was just above Earth, was unclear.

The Angel's head was shaven. His dark brown face was covered with scars and long-healed wounds. His eyes displayed determination and the grizzled spirit within him. He was forged and shaped in the furnace of each battle he have fought in. It was another reason to be afraid of him.

His left eye was gouged out in combat a long time ago, now replaced with a white cybernetic eyeball implant. His right eye displays red pupils—fiery bright that also reflected his will to fight against the forces of darkness. He eyed each and every children, adolescents and adults in front of him. The boy shivered as the grizzled Angel landed a glance at him. For a moment they locked eyes with one another, but he moved on with the next.

"You are conscripts!" He added. "Your life now belonged to us. You will do everything we ask of you and you will listen and treat every orders as if God Himself has given it to you. There are no other options but to follow. Resist, you die. Object, you die. Question our authority," he paused as he flashed a grin, "and you will be tossed in the pits of the fiery Gehenna. Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!" They all answered, including the boy with no name. They tensed as he examined each and every one of them.

"You will become Warriors of Heaven," he said. "Soldiers who are powerful and stronger than your 'former' race. No more shall you be called Humans, for you are now Legionnaires of the Heavenly Hosts. You will become Hybrids, whose genetic codings will be mixed with that of the Angelic Choir of Powers, making you all stronger than the rest of us. You will be the weapon; the hammer that God will use to bludgeon His enemies." He paused with an expressionless look on his face. The transition of his facial expression was very quick and fast for the still-Human children, adolescents and adults to notice.

"Do not mistaken yourselves with the likes of the Nephilim. They were half Angels and half Humans, but they were born out of lust and rebellion. You, on the other hand, are born out of love and faith. You will be the first line of defense against Satan and his minions. You will shed the light to the dark world below you." The Angel stopped in front of the boy with no name. "What is your name, child?"

"I have no name, sir." The boy answered. His voice was firm and confident, showing no signs of fear.

"Is that so?" The Angel asked before continuing. "Ten years from now, you will wear the Praetorian Battle Gear designated as 'Blackshot', and you will bear that name as if it was your birth name." He added. "And you will become a Protectorate."