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FKWQ XVII - Modern Battlefield 3

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Final Kingdom War Quest

Episode Seventeen: Modern Battlefield 3


Jet planes soared across the sky, leaving heat-wave lines in their wake. The Tower of Pisa was falling, fireworks in the sky for no apparent reason, trigger-happy rocket launchers were blowing large holes in the surrounding villas, and our heroes and now idea what the hell was going on!

Who was fighting who, and why?

They needed answers.

'But first, we need to split,' Ratchet said. 'Jak, Daxter, Crash. You three use the Apollo to travel to that identical planet. Clank, Sly, come with me. We have to find who's in charge.'

Jak and his team stepped back into the Apollo and disappeared instantly, flashing out of existence. One would never tell they had even arrived. Ratchet and his gang sprinted down the white pebble road. They skidded to a halt at an intersection as tanks trundled past. A parade of American soldiers jogged behind the tanks. Ratchet (with Clank on his back) and Sly ran beside them.

'Excuse me!' Ratchet yelled to one of the men. 'Could you tell me where I could find the lieutenant of this division?'

Unfortunately, your humble narrator Ratchet had no idea how the army worked, but the man was happy to give answers instead.

'You won't find the lieutenant here, furry dude,' the man replied in a thick American accent. 'What do you need to know? My name's Private Jack Trace by the way.'

The tanks veered to the left as a blimp fell from the sky, into a building which collapsed in a glorious collection of dust, rubble and illogical explosions. The debris blocked the way, and they had to find another way around to the Russians, who Private Trace explained were the enemies.

'See, it all started when Captain Ghost led us into the depths of a volcanic lair in space. It was supposed to be the headquarters of General Zvenshtock, but we found out it was really a trap set by Ghost himself! Captain Ghost was Zvenshtock's right-hand man in the secret Arctic war of eighty-two. Add onto that the actions of Lieutenant Hawk, America's fourth-greatest soldier in the world, who double-crossed Ghost twice in the Amazon jungle, only moments before Ghost was about to inject Hawk with a serum that would have shown Zvenshtock the location of our nuclear warhead – hidden entirely behind the left eye of the Rookie.

'But the Rookie was not a freshman at all! His memory was wiped after he discovered that Hawk was Zvenshtock's brother! Before then, Rookie had saved the world from destruction three times, alongside Captain Ghost and the deceased Corporal Crawshack—'

Private Trace was temporarily disrupted by a heap of Russians who opened fire from every window in the street. But the soldier seemed to have a supernatural healing-power, as bullet-wounds disappeared in mere seconds if he just crouched behind a car every now and then. Despite all the tanks and soldiers efforts, it seemed that Private Trace was the only one who managed to do any damage whatsoever to the Russians firing from the windows. Once the Russians had been dispatched, Private Trace continued:

'Or so we thought! Corporal Crawshack has been taken prisoner seven times over the last twenty minutes. Shot point-blank in the face by an automatic shotgun. And he's free-fallen over fifteen-thousand feet from a jet plane into the swamps of Louisiana! But you see that man over there, screaming orders at the rest of us? That's Crawshack. What a hero. The man truly is an inspira—Watch out!!!'

Suddenly, everything went into slow-motion and a PlayStation 3 controller appeared in everybody's hands. Ratchet, Clank and Sly felt the ground starting to rumble, as did their controller. Soon, cracks were forming on the road in front of them.

'Earthquake!' someone yelled at a snail's pace.

Then in the sky, a giant blue X appeared. It flashed quickly, signifying to Ratchet that he had to mash the corresponding button on his controller.

A few seconds after everybody repeatedly pressed the X button, the giant letter in the sky disappeared and Ratchet felt his feet automatically jump out of the way of the crack forming beneath them. The others faced the same effect, unable to alter their movements.
But this was a godsend, as their forced jumps brought them out of harm's way. The ground split open a couple of metres, but everybody was safe. Time quickened to a normal rate.

'Okay . . . What was that?' Sly asked Private Trace.

'We call it a quick-time event. If we don't press those buttons quick enough when they appear, we could lose the war!'

Clank frowned. 'So what you are saying is, the result of this war does not rely on skill?
You simply have to press a button to avoid a bad event, and you will progress towards victory? By that logic, anyone could win World War 3!'

'Precisely!' Private Trace smiled, not understanding the fundamental issues with the nature of his world. 'Ah, here we are! The source of the Russian invasion!'

Our heroes walked up a steep road to find they were overlooking the Arc De Triumphe. Or what was left of the Arc after an upside down black spire pierced the roof of it, poking through the top and into the ground like a spiky ice-cream cone.

'Russia has been attacking Paris, America and London ever since the arrival of that device,' Private Trace explained. 'If only Captain Ghost was here. The microchip inside his arm, planted there after he successfully betrayed the Iranians on an expedition to—'

'Well he's not here!' Ratchet interrupted, not wanting to here another unnecessarily complex plotline. 'But we are! And we're gonna take this thing out! Right guys?'

Clank hopped off Ratchet's back and gave his pal the thumbs up. Sly winked and sharpened his scythe on the pebble road.

Our heroes, Private Trace, and the army of tanks and soldiers with them charged towards the black spire, which appeared to be deserted. Defenceless.

As they drew closer, with only a hundred metres distance between them, several Japanese men, previously camouflaged with the road, burst up from the ground and ran towards the soldiers and tanks, screaming like madmen, firing their assault rifles wildly.

Amazingly, they managed to hit every soldier but Trace, Ratchet, Clank and Sly. The tanks blew up as well, just because it made everything more cinematic. Even Corporal Crawshack was lying in a pool of his own blood – his head blown several metres away from his body.

'The Japanese are in on this too!' Trace exclaimed. 'Hot damn! If only the Rookie was here to—'

'Shut up about these insanely improbable people!' Ratchet shouted. 'A man by your description could never exist! Not in a million years!'

'Oh, couldn't he?' a voice spoke.

The team of four turned to see Ghost, Rookie, Crawshack (head now intact) and Zvenshtock standing side by side at the lip of the hill.

'I don't believe it . . .' Trace whispered. 'Zvenshtock! You're on our side!'

'Absolutely!' the Russian said. 'Did you not know that I am the father of the United States President?'

'No! I didn't!' Trace answered joyfully. 'That's amazing! What a twist!'

'Give me a break,' Ratchet muttered under his breath.

The other three men broke into smiles and laughter as they approached the sole American soldier.

'Corporal Crawshack,' Trace said happily, slapping the man on the back as a sign of companionship. 'I thought you were dead!'

'That's what they want you to think,' Crawshack responded. Our heroes exchanged bewildered looks. 'Come on men! Let's kick some ass!'

Altogether the soldiers roared a battle cry and ran towards the enemy, firing headshot after headshot without any mistakes.

Three kills. Seven kills. Twelve kills. Seventeen kills.

Ghost was able to release the Osprey Gunner.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Death was raining down from above as a large warplane flew over the city of Paris, homing its massive bullets in on the Japanese.

'These guys are too good,' Sly said.

'Yes, I agree. Even I cannot calculate their impeccable accuracy. It seems impossible,' Clank said.

'That's because they're hackers,' Private Trace explained. 'How else do you expect them to survive in the most extreme of situations?'

'They hack into . . . life?' Ratchet asked, trying to make sense of this world once again.

Trace nodded. 'Super-fast healing powers. Aimbot. The ability to call on warplanes and armoured cars just because they killed a couple of bad guys. These men are haxors through and through. And they're damn good at it!'

Ratchet watched as Ghost, Rookie, Crawshack and Zvenshtock eliminated the enemy with ease, and followed them up beside the black spire.

'What is this thing?' Sly wondered.

'It must be what we saw on the galactic map inside the Apollo,' Clank said. 'It must be the Krulm's new weapon!'

Just then, another round of Japanese and Russian soldiers appeared out of nowhere. They raised their guns and pressed their fingers down on the triggers.

'Then we can't wait any longer!' said Ratchet. He planted his feet firmly into the ground and threw his wrench at the spire. It cart-wheeled through the air before smashing through the spire, exploding it into a million black shards.

The moment the spire was destroyed, the enemy soldiers stopped moving. They dropped their guns and fell to their knees, the wind knocked out of them. One-by-one they gradually stood back up, shaking their heads and snapping their eyes to their surroundings.

'Where are we?' one of the Russian soldiers asked.

'How did I get here?' said a Japanese one.

The others showed similar signs of confusion and loss, as if they had no recollection of their prior actions.

'What in the name of Lincoln . . .' Ghost grumbled.

Clank snapped his fingers. 'A controlling device! That's it! That's what the Krulm are using the Apollo's for!'

'They want to control the worlds,' Sly said.

'That way, they'll be the ruler of the Universe,' Ratchet finished.

Zap!

The Apollo spaceship appeared next to our heroes. Jak, Daxter and Crash stepped out, quickly checking their surroundings.

'Guys! What did you find on your planet?' Ratchet asked hurriedly. He remembered that the planet he had sent the others too appeared to be a replica of this one. He wondered why.

'From what I can see here, pretty much the exact same thing,' Daxter replied, gazing at the solders stumbling to their feet. 'Except our planet looked a little nicer.'
Except our planet looked a little nicer.

Okay, I'm sure the comparison of Modern Warfare 3 and Battlefield 3 is a bit deeper than that.

But just a bit.

I'm one of those strange creatures who manage to enjoy the hell out of both these games!

How odd of me.
© 2011 - 2024 FKWQ
Comments3
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ME-Jones's avatar
I love your definition of these worlds XD (especially since I hate those games XD)