Wake Prologue.

## Wake.

         By: [POOP] Y33T

**PROLOGUE: An artificial island in**
the Northwestern Pacific Ocean. 04:20 A.M. UTC.

A golden-brown smoky sky hung over the island and the overpowering
smell of fire and dead bodies made it hard for the soldier to breathe. The soldier pushed a cart with a body in it. The body was dressed in a uniform the
same color as the skin; light brown. He approached another, more heavily
armored soldier with a PKM who stood near a demolished fisherman's shack.

"Еще один супер солдат?" The second soldier said.

"Да." The cart pusher replied.

"Вы нашли что-нибудь на нем?"

"Нет, он был в одном из этих
странных чанов."

"Тогда бросьте его и давайте доберемся до Базы 2 как можно скорее."

"Хорошо, давайте вернемся."

(Another super soldier?
Yeah.
Did you find anything on him?
Nope, he was in one of those weird vats.
Dump him then and let's get to Base 2 ASAP, the whole island has been jammed.
Alright let's head back)

The soldier dumped the wheelbarrow in the ocean and the super soldier's body
was swept away by an unusually strong current. It was soon carried out to the continental slope, and the body began to slowly sink to the bottom of the ocean. As the light started to fade, a black 20-foot long object shot out of the water below
and stopped near the sinking body. An appendage came out of a hatch and the body was dragged in. The object then began to rise until it was nearly at the surface. Then, a periscope came out and snapped several pictures of the island. The black object was a larger prototype of the DCS (a larger version of a small submarine [lol]), and inside were 12 U.S. Navy SEALs. They had been briefed that the rouge East-Bloc Communist Party had sent guerillas to attack PARMA's artificial island, presumably to steal their so-called "spicy tech". The SEALs were to destroy or
extract any "spicy tech" and kill as many "radicals" as possible, with airborne drones as well as the pilot and a SEAL named Wall providing
surveillance.

All but the pilot and the commander of the group were in the living
quarters, which consisted of just 2 tables and several chairs. 3 of the SEALs (Lenny, Skipper, and Hal) were examining the dead body, 4 (Monke, Wall, Joe, and George) were looking at intel on the island, and 3 (Simon, Bhjdfsfkjgr, and Isacc) were complaining about how the submarine
literally had no beds.

Lenny, who was examining the super soldier's body said "His uniform has
bloodstains, holes, wrinkles, and scorch marks, but the flesh barely has any
bruises!"

Skipper replied "Whatever PARMA did, these guys are durable af. They
even regenerate after they die! Look! Those bruises are fading as we speak! Don't even get me started about how **CHUNKY** this guy is!"

"No you" said Lenny.

"No you" said Skipper.

"No you" said Lenny.

"No you" said Skipper.

"No you" said Lenny.

"No you" said Skipper.

"No you" said Lenny.

Hal had one word to say "Bruh".

Sergeant Vincent McDowell walked in and said "Everybody shut up, Colonel Brice is changing some objectives". As the pilot, Johnson, followed McDowell into the living quarters, McDowell's tablet showed Colonel Brice, a fat commander with a brown shirt. Brice cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Your original objectives of eliminating all radicals and extracting or destroying the spicy tech remains unchanged, though you will now have access to support from B1 Lancers if you find yourself in a crap river. However, we have jammed the island's comms and we are assuming that all staff are dead. Treat all personnel on the island as hostiles, and if you take a prisoner, put him back in the sub. Good luck."

The SEALs began to gear up and prepared to swim up the continental slope and
onto the island.