The Alchemy Chronicles:

Book 1

“Manus Deus”

Prologue:

Ever since the beginning of time, there have been those called alchemists, who had the ability to turn iron into gold. However, there was a people who had an even greater power.

They were normal people who led normal lives, apart from their greatest gift. These people possessed the ability to fashion any metallic object they wished simply by touching raw metal. They were called the Manus Deus, because they were believed to have the hand of God. Those who made their power known were often harshly received, and were believed to be demons. Many were harshly killed or driven far from their homes. However, the Manus Deus quickly learned how to fashion weapons with their power, and even though they avoided battle at all costs, the warriors of the Manus Deus were unmatched. The people who devoted their lives to perfecting their power in order to fashion weapons were known as The Formators. However, as times changed the world shrank, and the Manus Deus could hide as a people no longer. Therefore, each family traveled to a different part of the world. Making sure that a Formator was with them as a protector and a teacher for the young in order to preserve the sacred art.

However, one young warrior of the Manus Deus did not surrender and go into hiding. Calling himself Geist, and claiming to be the savior of the Manus Deus, he gathered an army and proposed the idea of total war against their enemies. The council of the Manus Deus refused the suggestion, and banished Geist from the Manus Deus. Believing he had been betrayed, Geist launched a full fledged assault on his people. The Formators however, rose up together and crushed Geist and his army. Geist disappeared during the battle and was never seen again.

The year is now 2048, and talk of war fills the air. The New American Republic has just recovered from a second civil war, forcing a complete reconstruction of the government. Once again, America is secure and stable, and peace reigns. However, The Russian Republic, following yet another revolution, has fallen. Now, the Soviet Empire has been established, and the formal ambitions of the former Soviet Union are even more firmly endorsed. As the two nations once again experience heated tension, whispers from the east speak of the massing of troops and war machines within the Empire. Peace, it seems, is merely a period of time.

And now, as a young soldier in the NAR Special Forces prepares for war, the wheels begin to turn. In a world of history repeating, can the history of a fallen people change the fate of the world? The soldier's name is Vaughn. And he is a Formator.

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September 23, 2048 A.D.

Somewhere in the Western Soviet Empire.

Vaughn Tramell had never been more terrified in his life. His first assignment as squad leader was supposed to be something meaningless, like escorting an ambassador or babysitting some high ranking official. He had always imagined it like that, never like this. Vaughn and his four man squad were currently en route to a Soviet Imperial Army (SIR) safe house that intelligence had reported as possibly the location of a top military commander in the SIR. He cursed under his breath. “Possibly.” Those words had killed more soldiers than bullets. However, he was a good soldier, and he wasn't about to get killed by bullshit intelligence, or bullets for that matter.

He was also excellent at hiding fear, another skill needed by squad leaders. It was good to be scared, it kept you alert. But his men looked to him for coolness in command, so Vaughn had learned to hide his emotions well. The team was slowly moving through a dense forest, and the trees where close together. This provided excellent cover, and the four men cautiously moved through the forest keeping an eye out for any movement. At last they came upon the edge of the woods, and Vaughn gave a hand signal to his men to go prone. They slowly crawled on their stomachs until they reached the tree line, then Vaughn took out his binoculars and looked out on the clearing. Much to his relief, he saw a large building with several vehicles parked out front. He grinned when he saw the SIR insignia on one of the trucks.

“At least intel got the safe house part right.” he thought.

The building was a large two story wooden structure that reminded Vaughn of the cabins he used to spend vacation in when he was a kid. There was an upper deck, which had a porch that wrapped all the way around the building, was similar to the first floor, but with fewer windows. Vaughn had already taken note of the guards, or at least the five that he could see. Three were walking around the upper deck, and two were standing outside the first floor entrance, talking and smoking. He noticed they all carried standard issue AK-74SRs. Old weapons, but easy to manufacture and just was deadly. They still weren't anything his team couldn't handle.

Vaughn waved Alex Miller the team sniper up beside him.

“Put your suppressor on.” he whispered to Miller, who nodded in reply and attached a large slender silencer onto the barrel of his rifle. He then looked to Vaughn for the command. After looking through his binoculars once again. He turned to Miller.

“Remember, we don't exist.” Miller smiled and nodded. Vaughn nodded in reply. “Engage at your own discretion.”

Miller looked through the scope of his rifle, and began to follow the guard which was walking away from his three comrades. When he was as far away as he could be, Miller took a deep breath and held it, then squeezed the trigger. There was a shard hiss from the rifle, and Vaughn saw the guard's head disappear in a puff of red. The guard's body slumped to the floor of the deck, but the other soldiers heard nothing and disappeared around the other side of the house. Miller knew he had little time, he instantly pulled the bolt on his rifle and loaded another bullet in the chamber. He than trained his sights on one of the guards who was standing near the door to the house smoking. His friend was still close by. Miller aimed and fired again, but this time he took no time in between shots. Almost instantly he pulled the bolt again and fired, and both guards hit the ground almost simultaneously. Vaughn smiled, Miller was no slouch that was for sure. However the other guards would soon complete their circuit of the house and notice their dead compatriot. Therefore, he signaled to Baker and Wallace, the other two men to advance and engage. The two soldiers instantly sprang up and ran across the open clearing, disappearing around the side of the house. He waited anxiously for the slightest noise, then he noticed Baker come from behind the house on the upper deck. Vaughn's radio crackled.

“We got em sir. There were stairs around back.”

Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. “So far so good.” he thought.

“You okay sir?” Miller asked.

“I'm fine, lets finish this up and go home” Vaughn responded. “Let's move.” He and Miller jumped to their feet and ran to where Baker and Wallace were taking cover, just outside the back door.

“Let's go, cover and advance.” he whispered. Baker nodded and opened the door, and Wallace entered followed by Vaughn. They made their way down a narrow hallway which opened up into a large room, nicely furnished, with several different decorations hanging on the walls. There was also a large liquor cabinet.

“Safe house my ass.” Vaughn thought. Just than he heard voices upstairs, and he motioned to his team to advance to the stairs and head up. They moved slowly, the voices getting steadily louder. At the top of the stairs, Vaughn noticed two double doors standing shut and the end of the hallway. The men moved quickly down the hall and stacked up on the walls on both sides of the doors. The men inside were speaking Russian, and it sounded like it was a heated discussion, one voice was filled with anger and frustration. The other was soft and cool, and whatever he was saying made voice number one angrier by the second. He motioned to Baker, who was pressed against the wall on the other side of the door. Baker nodded and threw the door open.

“Get down!! Get the fuck down!!” Vaughn yelled as he rushed in and faced two men. One was clearly an SIR official, he was obviously shocked and bewildered at the sudden intrusion. Baker rushed forward and threw the man to the ground securing his hands with plastic wire. The other man was someone whom Vaughn didn't recognize. He was wearing all black, and a long leather trench coat fell to his ankles. Vaughn noticed him smirk as Wallace brought him to his knees and put his heads behind his head. Miller rushed to the window and looked out. “No movement.” he said, smiling. “Looks like we're clear.” Vaughn almost smiled as well, but contained himself.

“We not through yet, lets get them out of here and head to the extraction point.” Vaughn said. “Move out! Then he turned around and began to head out of the room, thanking God it was almost over. But before he could reach the edge of the room, he heard Wallace shout.

“Hey!! Don't-” Vaughn whirled around to see the man Wallace was watching jump to his feet and grab a stapler off the desk in the middle of the room. Before any of them could react, the man jammed the stapler into Wallace's chest. For a second, Wallace looked confused, but then almost instantly his face changed. His eyes went wide and his face grew pale, then blood began to flow out of his mouth. Vaughn, looked in horror and shock as the man withdrew a small pointed sword out of Wallace's chest. Wallace collapsed on the floor, dead. Instantly, the men responded.

“Bastard!!” Baker yelled as he raised his M8. But before he could open fire, the stapler, which was now a small sword, began to glow. The man jumped through the air and kicked Baker across the side of the head, and he fell to the ground. Then the man raised his weapon, which to Vaughn's complete dismay took on a shape he knew all to well. A .44 Magnum. The gun itself was ancient, but this one appeared to be brand new. The man spun around and fired two shots into Miller's chest, blood exploding out of the wounds and peppering the walls behind him. The sniper was blown back against the wall, which was then streaked with blood as Miller slid down it lifeless. Vaughn yelled in anger as he opened fire on the stranger, who dove behind the desk and fired two more shots. One of the bullets hit Vaughn in his right leg and he fell to the ground screaming in pain. The man stood up and smiled, then walked over to Baker, who was unconscious. He raised his weapon, and as Vaughn yelled out in a cry mixed with pain and grief, he fired one shot into Baker's head. The bullet tore through his head and ripped apart his face, exposing Baker's skull. The man then walked over to the SIR official, who was cowering under the desk.

“I hope this is enough proof for you General.” The man said. “This is simply a taste of what we have to offer.”

The general rose to his feet shaking, but looked more confident then before. “Da, Captain Kain. Tell your commander we have a deal” Then he looked down at Vaughn. “What about him?” he asked.

“Consider him a gift of goodwill from my leader.” Kain said. Then he turned around and began to walk out the door, “We'll be in touch General.” he said as he walked away. The last thing Vaughn saw was Kain look over his shoulder at Vaughn and smile. Then, everything went black.