Sleepless eyes peer into the dingy expanse before them. The hoary smoke of the cordite proliferated rapidly as the CCG's small arms discharged towards the substantial Aogiri presence. Masked bodies surfaced from in near endless waves from the caliginous depths of a steep ramp that lead into the structure's executive parking space. They are as demons; robed in red cloth with organic weapons erecting from their bodies; a panoply of horror to the eye of man -- something so familiar, yet foreign; abominations. But the organization in Aogiri's defense was exiguous at best. Even with their adequate speed, strength, and numbers they failed to impede CCG's assault on their compound. It was the orderly standardization that allowed the inferior humans to maintain ground, and advance together.
"First Class Amon..." Called a rough voice, humming in the noise of the communication's static.
"We're ready, sir." A command was shouted from each section leader. Special polycarbonate shields clicked together in a loud boom, and black boots began to clap in a march. Three formations of tall shields bearing the wings of the CCG lined the narrow street all the way across as they lead the charge towards the ghoul perimeter. All firearm discharges were now under a strict discipline; only engaging hostiles above, and behind the shields, leaving an area in front of the push clear; the bullets acting as an umbrella.
A voltaic zip cracked behind the ranks of shields, a lurid red illumination cast on their backs in a pulsing light, reflecting from the white of their gear which gave a brief aura above in a lethargic flash. Two operatives fastidiously broke rank in each line as a lofty male tapped their shoulders accordingly. Reaching the front, stepped out First Class Amon Koutarou, wielding a hefty koukaku quinque wrapped tightly in his tenacious grip.
Let's see what you can do, "...Doujima!" He vociferated in a charge to the approaching Aogiri counter attack, teeth clenched as he swung his weapon headlong into the first ghoul within reach, catching them at their terminal velocity; nearly splitting the ghoul in half with the blunt quinque due to Amon's mass, and that of his armament. His speed, and strength meeting the ghoul's full on sprint caused a thunderous crack from the immense amount of kinetic energy generated on impact; the sound of their bones breaking as life escaped them in a single, swift blow. The Aogiri Member's body flung from the mace, its spine severed, and ribs decimated leaving the now lifeless body acting as a rag doll with a perturbing amount of blood shooting through the apertures of their mask.
That display of power sent a tremendous moral shock of despair among the other ghouls. Amon would appear as a monstrous beast in their awry ebony optics; keeping his momentum, and gaining speed as he continued with the next ghoul, and the next after that. A tall mass of muscle capable of achieving such acceleration, and power while being a mere human was terrifying the lesser ghouls. To those so used to their physical superiority over their prey. As their numbers faltered the remnants broke their last counter offensive; scattering wildly searching for routes of escape, only to be gunned down in the CCG's blanket of suppressive fire.
"This is First Class Amon, the way is clear." He pressed his fingers against the alabaster device placed onto his right ear as beads of sweat lurched down from underneath his kevlar onto his disheveled face. Amon rested for but a moment, pressing the flat top of his quinque at his feet whilst leaning against the shaft. During this juncture, he scanned over the battlefield, taking notice of the odd positioning of the dead ghouls. There were enough corpses to see a immaculate oval-like line just outside of the perimeter of the executive parking garage.
Why didn't they return? He pondered, eyes narrowing as he stared into the tenebrosity ahead.
"This is command. Copy that, First Class Amon. Unit proceeding. Pull back behind the curtain. How copy?"
"...This is Amon, solid copy. Pulling back."He gave a hesitant, disquieted response as he kept his gray optics fixed onto the complex with a developing trepidation. Amon kicked his weapon onto his shoulder, letting the ranks of shield pass by him as they begun to establish a defensive formation around the wide entrance. The shields clapped together in a loud boom as they were secured to the ground. A whistle chimed signaling a command; columns of operatives ran through the cleared center of the assault group, making way towards the parking garage entrance the lead to the sub level of the building. Canisters of nerve agents were propelled inside. The men prepared themselves with the appropriate equipment while allowing the gas to spread before they stormed the Aogiri fortification. Few rounds could be heard popping off during the initial incursion, but the noise quickly became quiescent. Eerily so. Amon felt uneasy as he awaited further orders. It had been but only 3 minutes post entry, though to him, it would feel as if three whole hours had passed.
"C-contact r--"Communications chatter would blip on every channel; a panicked call followed with a series of fully automatic small arms fire that could heard from the outside as well. Two reserve squads rushed inside to support the assault teams, Amon following in behind. While indoors, it became an entirely different world. The air felt condensed with smoke and dust set a waft. The room was dark, only illuminated by the mounted lights on the operative's weapons, and by Doujima's faint red glow.
"Where the hell are the other teams?" the men talked amongst themselves as their achromic beams pierced through the thick clouds. Abruptly, a deafening crash shot through the garage quickly ensued by a vehement shockwave, causing Amon's ears to ring, and the room to fall black as the parking entrance became inhumed with rubble.
Amon's limbs felt numb as his body languidly returned to consciousness. Blood ran from a gash on his mouth where he had inadvertently bit his own lip as his body fell from the concussion of the explosion. As the ringing etiolated his hearing returned. Finding sufficient strength, Amon pressed his hands against the floor, groaning as heavy, concrete and steel pieces rolled off of his back, crashing beside him. The other men appeared to be crushed beneath the weight of the debris, or killed in the initial blast. He managed to retrieve his quinque. Albeit, considerable damage had been done to it; a large wedge missing from the top of the cylinder, along with minor cracks from impact.
"It must be such a shame to lose so many around you."
Uttered an unnervingly familar voice.
