Operation Report – Mad God - The Cycle
Objective: Secure Bastions, Destroy the Beacon, Neutralize Reichscum
Friendly Forces: Carnes Figura
Enemy Forces: Reichscum
Alpha emerged from the trench system into the blasted wasteland beyond. The sky burned red, the air filled with the sound of distant thunder and the sickly stench of rot. Almost immediately, three shambling horrors broke from the fog. They fell upon Alpha with mindless hunger, but the squad cut them down in seconds. Flesh and ichor stained the mud, their remains dissolving into nothing — another echo of the endless cycle.
It was an omen of what was to come.
Pushing north, Alpha came under fire from obscured riflemen hidden among the ruins. Sporadic gunfire cracked through the haze, forcing the squad to seek cover among shell holes and skeletal trees. Their advance was harassed but determined — until the earth itself screamed.
A Reichscum artillery strike slammed into the landscape, the first shells hammering the ground with terrifying force. Dirt and blood erupted in fountains. Alpha broke, scattering through the wreckage to escape the barrage. Some were caught in the blast, torn apart in fire and steel. Others clawed into cover and survived, deafened and dazed.
Still, Alpha did not falter. They regrouped, bloodied but unbroken, and pressed the assault.
Skirting the north, Alpha flanked through shattered houses and splintered woodland. The Reichscum defenders fought hard, but one by one, their firing points fell silent. The bastion’s defences crumbled under the relentless push, and Alpha stormed the trenchline with grenades and rifle fire.
By the time the smoke cleared, Bastion 1 was theirs.
Reinforcements, stitched together from fresh flesh and the endless cycle of the Carnes Figura, arrived to bolster Alpha’s battered ranks.
One objective down. The Cycle demanded more.
With Bastion 1 secured, Alpha pushed deeper into the wastes. Every step was contested. Hidden riflemen fired from ruined windows, unseen in the crimson haze until their bullets struck flesh. As Alpha maneuverer, the thunder returned — another Reichscum artillery strike.
The ground shattered beneath them, shockwaves rippling through the scarred battlefield. But this time, fate spared them. Alpha slipped through the barrage unscathed, ducking into the ruins as fire and dust consumed the sky behind them.
Pressing east toward the river crossing, Alpha linked up with the remains of a previous squad. Their mission had ended in failure — but their explosives were intact. Alpha gathered the charges, grimly aware of what they must soon face: the Beacon.
As they regrouped, fire burst from the south, forcing Alpha into cover. Then came a sound — an inhuman scream that cut through the storm. A Shrieker emerged, its body twisted and raw, its voice shattering nerves. The creature lunged, but Alpha answered with steel and fire, cutting it down in a storm of bullets and Molotov cocktails. Its body collapsed in a grotesque silence.
The wastes had many horrors — this was only one.
Alpha advanced, clearing ruins and structures with brutal efficiency. But the closer they came to Bastion 2, the more resistance hardened. Reichscum riflemen and machine guns opened fire, forcing Alpha into bloody, room-to-room fighting. A grenade, carelessly thrown, tore through their own ranks — friendly fire in the chaos of war.
Still, Bastion 2 fell. The Cycle birthed new flesh, and Alpha was reinforced. Their eyes now turned toward the towering structure pulsing with unnatural light: the Beacon.
Charges were set. The fuse was lit.
And then — disaster.
The blast consumed the Beacon, but the mistimed detonation claimed nearly all of Alpha with it. Five of seven were annihilated in the firestorm. Only two staggered away, dragging themselves back to Bastion 2 to be reforged anew.
The Beacon was gone. The price was heavy.
Reinforced after the Beacon’s destruction, Alpha pressed north into the broken outskirts of the ruined city. Sniper fire cracked through the haze, forcing them into a grim, cover-to-cover crawl. Shattered concrete and skeletal steel frames became their only protection as every movement drew fire from hidden Reichscum marksmen.
Alpha answered in kind, methodically clearing buildings, dragging the enemy into the open, and silencing rifles one by one. The city loomed ahead, a labyrinth of rubble and ash, but the Cycle pushed them forward — there was no turning back.
The resistance stiffened at the edge of Bastion 3. Reichscum riflemen entrenched themselves in the ruins, pouring fire into Alpha as they advanced. The approach was brutal — machine gun nests raked the open ground, and grenades burst in the rubble, throwing fragments through flesh and stone alike.
Two Carnes Figura fell in the approach, their bodies torn apart in the mud. But Alpha pressed on, hurling grenades into fortified positions, storming the defenders with bayonet and blade. The bastion cracked under the assault, defenders overrun in their last desperate stand.
When the smoke cleared, Alpha stood bloodied but victorious. Bastion 3 was theirs. Reinforcements birthed anew from the Cycle, knitting the squad back to strength even as gunfire still echoed across the ruins.
Beyond Bastion 3 lay the true stronghold — the Reichscum Bastion itself, dug into the heart of the ruins. Alpha pushed north, but fire came from every angle. Machine guns chattered from shattered windows, riflemen lurked in shadows, and every ruin became another kill-zone.
Progress was measured in feet, not yards. Grenades and suppressive fire chipped away at the entrenched Reichscum defenders. Every rifleman slain brought them a step closer, every bunker cleared cost blood. Slowly, methodically, Alpha clawed its way forward until the looming Reichscum Bastion rose before them, a dark fortress against the storm.
At the foot of the Reichscum Bastion, Alpha prepared for the bloodletting to come. The defenders were entrenched, rifles and machine guns cutting arcs of fire across no-man’s land. Alpha moved up the northern slope, lobbing grenades over the earthen barricades. Explosions tore into dugouts and sang through the trenches, but in the chaos one of their own blasts landed short, claiming Carnes Figura as surely as enemy fire.
The Bastion became a slaughterhouse. Reichscum clung to their fortifications, firing until the last possible moment, only to be dragged down in close-quarters fighting. The mud was slick with blood, both human and puppet-flesh, but eventually Alpha overran the Bastion. Its defenders lay broken, its walls silenced. The Puppeteers reinforced, and Alpha emerged bloodied but whole, leaving no survivors.
With the Bastion broken, resistance across the ruins faltered. Alpha pushed deeper into the shattered city, weaving through skeletal towers and collapsed girders. What Reichscum riflemen remained fired sporadically, ambushes and desperate holds rather than organized defence.
The Carnes Figura cut them down with brutal efficiency. Each ruined block was purged in turn, cleared with fire, blade, and bayonet. By the time Alpha reached the edge of the trench network, organized resistance had all but collapsed — the Reichscum were running out of ground, and the Cycle was closing in.
The final obstacle was the Reichscum trench system — a tangled labyrinth of dugouts, gun pits, and desperate men. Alpha struck like a hammer. The machine gun at the trench mouth was overwhelmed in seconds, its crew torn apart before they could turn their fire.
Inside the trenches, combat devolved into chaos. Grenades bounced down dugouts, rifle fire cracked point-blank, and hand-to-hand struggles broke out in the choking mud. Reichscum fought with ferocity born of desperation, but Alpha fought with inevitability.
The first artillery gun fell swiftly, its crew annihilated. At the trench’s heart, the Reichscum HVT was cornered and cut down, his blood mixing with the trench water as his command crumbled. Alpha pushed south, destroying the second gun in a storm of fire and steel.
With both artillery pieces shattered and the trench system cleared, the Reichscum position collapsed. Alpha emerged from the mud, their task complete. Broken bodies lined the trenches, and the Cycle marched on, ready for the next slaughter.
Aftermath – The Cycle Turns Again
The mission ended in blood and ruin — as all things under the Cycle must.
Alpha had secured Bastions 1, 2, and 3, purged the Reichscum Bastion, and obliterated the trench network along with its artillery. Most importantly, the Beacon was destroyed, severing one of the Reichscum’s spiritual anchors. The cost was staggering: repeated casualties from artillery, machine guns, and even their own missteps. Friendly fire, mistimed charges, and endless waves of Reichscum defenders tore Alpha apart time and again.
And yet, the Carnes Figura do not break. Each time flesh was destroyed, the Surgeons remade it. Each time blood was spilled, the Cycle demanded more. Where a man might have faltered, Alpha pressed on — through horror, through chaos, through inevitability.
The Reichscum, by contrast, had no such cycle. Their numbers bled away. Their bastions crumbled. Their leaders fell in the mud, their guns silenced. The trenches that had once promised to hold back the tide became graves for their garrisons.
For Alpha, this was not victory. Victory does not exist in the Cycle. There is only continuation — a turning of the wheel, another slaughter, another ruin claimed.
The Reichscum bastions lie in ashes. The Beacon is gone. The trenches are filled with corpses.
And still, Alpha marches on.
The Cycle is endless.