The blinding glare of headlights and the screech of tires were the last things the Kevin Green knew of his old life. He didn't hesitate; he shoved the child clear, taking the full force of the truck himself. In that final, selfless moment, the world faded to a serene, crystalline white.
An entity none other than god, moved by a sacrifice born of pure selflessness, appeared before him.
Kevin, a devoted fan of the tactical world he had mastered in life, didn't ask for power or wealth.
The God smiled and granted the wish, sending him across the veil.
Kevin opened his eyes and found himself in middle of an wasteland, we was stunned.
Kevin knowing the place can allow a human life to exist, decided to find a place to live and find a work.
With curiousity to know about what happened here, Kevin start walking to find a place for him to stay.
******
Kevin Green's boots crunched on the dry, cracked earth. The silence of the wasteland was heavy, broken only by the whistling wind. As he walked, a massive structure loomed out of the haze—a military base, or what was left of one. The concrete walls were blackened by fire, and the reinforced gates hung limply from their hinges.
As he crossed the threshold, he stopped dead. Scattered across the courtyard were bodies. Lots of them. They weren't just soldiers; they were two distinct groups. One set wore rugged, tan-colored tactical suits with a gold eagle insignia on their shoulders. The others were dressed in slick, black and red fatigues with a strange red tail logo.
Kevin felt a chill run down his spine.
Despite his fear, his survival instincts—and the strange, vast military knowledge now swirling in his brain—took over. He knelt beside a fallen soldier in the tan uniform. The man was long dead. Kevin reached down and picked up the soldier's rifle. It was heavy, metallic, and felt surprisingly natural in his hands. He scavenged several magazines of ammunition from the soldier's tactical vest, stuffing them into his own pockets.
He pushed deeper into the base, heading toward a building that looked like a command center. Inside, the air was stale. He found a terminal still humming with a faint blue light. Sitting at the desk, he began scrolling through the files. His eyes widened as a blueprint appeared on the screen: MCV - Mobile Construction Vehicle.
In the Art of War 3 world he knew so well, a Construction Yard was the heart of everything. To find a blueprint for one here... it was the ultimate prize.
He spotted an empty silver pen drive sitting on the desk next to a discarded coffee mug. Without hesitation, he plugged it in and began copying the files.
He ran back toward the motor pool. Most of the trucks were twisted heaps of scrap, but in the far corner, a six-wheeled vehicle remained intact. It was an APC—an Armored Personnel Carrier.
Kevin climbed into the high driver's seat. In his past life, he was just a teenager who had recently earned his driver's license. Looking at the complex dashboard of a military vehicle should have been terrifying, but it wasn't. As his hands touched the wheel, the "God-granted" knowledge clicked into place. He knew exactly what every lever and button did.
He turned the ignition. The engine roared to life with a powerful, guttural growl that shook the entire cabin.
He told himself, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He slammed the APC into gear and floored the pedal. The heavy tires gripped the debris-strewn pavement, and the vehicle surged forward, smashing through a weakened section of the perimeter fence.
As he sped away from the "Eagle" base and into the vast, unknown wasteland, Kevin looked out at the horizon. He saw glowing green crystals jutting out of the earth like jagged emeralds. He didn't know what they were yet, but he knew one thing: he had the blueprints to build a future, and he had a way to move.
The wheels of fate starts moving, and Kevin Green was the one moving it.
******
The dust had barely settled from Kevin's escape when the thunder of heavy rotors shattered the silence. Two V-35 Ox VTOLs descended, kicking up a storm of grit as they touched down inside the ruined base.
A squad of soldiers in tan tactical gear stormed out, rifles raised. These were the men of the Global Defense Initiative (GDI)—the international military alliance formed by the United Nations to defend the world against the spread of Tiberium and the aggression of the Brotherhood of Nod. Though it was 2041 and the Third Tiberium War was still six years away, the tension between the two superpowers was a simmering powder keg.
Two technicians rushed into the command center, their faces pale. They went straight to the main terminal. Suddenly, one of them froze.
A wave of panic washed over the squad. In this era of "fragile peace," if the Brotherhood of Nod obtained the schematics for GDI's latest Mobile Construction Vehicle, the tactical advantage GDI held would vanish. The sergeant frantically pulled up the security logs. They expected to see a Nod commando. Instead, they saw a teenager.
The footage showed Kevin—looking young and out of place—picking up a rifle and plugging a thumb drive into the console. They watched as he scrambled into a guardian APC and drove off.
The sergeant exhaled a long breath of relief.
The sergeant tapped his comm-link, patching through to the regional command hub.
On the other end of the line, in a high-tech command center, General Jack Granger listened intently. Even in 2041, General Jack Granger was a no-nonsense veteran who refused to be complacent while others believed Nod was no longer a threat. He looked at the freeze-frame of Kevin's face.
Granger turned back to his maps, dismissing the boy as a minor incident. He was certain the secrets of the GDI were safe. He had no way of knowing that the "kid" had the knowledge of a God and the blueprints of the "Art of War" world is already merging with the stolen data.
GDI moved on, leaving Kevin to the shadows, unaware that they had just allowed their greatest rival to walk right out the front door.
