"When he broke open the seventh seal there was silence in heaven."
-Rev 8:1

Rogue watched the LCD screen in front of him. Phoenix wasn't due for another mission for several more hours, and the rest of the Overwatch crew was resting in the room next to him. But Rogue couldn't rest, not after the things he had seen through the eyes of his omniscient god. He had watched Earth as it was brought to it's knees by the horror that was the Apocalypse. He was forced to watch through the eyes of Overwatch as humanity turned into creatures, nay demons. He watched good men, horrid men, women, children, the elderly, all die at the hands of the evil that was these creatures. All he could do was watch as Terrorists they had been tracking for weeks were ripped apart by the same hands that tore the throat out of their President. The same hands that tore babies from their mothers and lovers from each others arms. And each of these horrors that he watched made him realize that sooner or later, he would have to return to that accursed world. A world forsaken by God, a world that was being punished for no known reason to him. And for all he could see from his vantage far above the Earth, the one thing he couldn't see was a way to save their world. The last hopes of those pockets of humanity that he could witness, rested in the hands of the brave souls at Phoenix. The last hope for civilization to be reborn from the ashes of this fallen world and it was that hope that kept Rogue from opting out of this existence because even if the cursed couldn't be saved, perhaps they could prevent the last of humanity from falling to a like fate. And so he watched through the same eyes as God, doing his part to save his race.

---

"All units in Phoenix team, 20 minutes and report to helipad for final prep before moving out," the voice of the coms officer said through Vex's earpiece. 

Well shit, guess this mission was a go now. Bishop had been transferred to Phoenix from Clean House just as the rest of his team had been the week before hand. This would likely be the first time that many of them had worked together, but John knew that each and everyone of his new team was perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. You didn't last long in this new world without being capable. No, he was certain that they'd be able to watch his back when dealing with the infected. They were ready for this, and if anything this new team would be more capable than any other in the entirety of Phoenix Operations.

Shaking his head, he grabbed hid bag from the corner and pulled out his handgun, holstering it in it's place on his thigh. Back in the day you weren't supposed to be armed on board vessels unless part of security or returning from a mission, but this new world changed the rules a little bit. 

When he reached the armory he looked around, seeing a few familiar faces but not looking at too many new faces, he'd meet his new squad mates soon enough. When he got down to it, it took a few minutes to get everything in order and all his equipment in the proper pouches. He hefted hid Tavor and checked that everything was in working order.

Satisfied he checked the time and headed for the upper decks, reaching the helipad he looked around, it looked like he arrived first so he pulled up by one of the railings and dropped his bag. Leaning back he waited for the others to show up.

---

"Hawkeye, it's Phoenix Command. Gather with your squad on the Helipad. You will be moving out in thirty minutes. Your team should be briefed already, but we're confirming your mission now. Once you are in the Heli how you proceed is up to you. Use your team's skills to your advantage."

Phoenix Command paused for a moment as they brought up the mission file.

"You're entering Southern Maryland to investigate a signal from forward camp Rebound. We lost it in the first months of the infection. Communications were lost and we figured the base to be empty. Secure the camp and figure out what triggered that signal. Overwatch is currently outside of communication range so you're on your own for the next six hours."

They pulled up a map of the area, streaming it to his HUD display.

"There is a small town, population of 200, up the road 18 miles from the camp. We don't know the status of it's residents, but if it's like the rest of our Country you can expect serious numbers of infected. Try to keep this as quiet as long as you can. Once you've inserted it's  three miles to the camp and the next copter we can secure for exfil is in eight hours."

Command channels went quiet for a moment before the voice returned, "Good luck, all current orders stand. Sample any rare infected you can, and kill anything that you feel able to without jeopardizing the mission or your squad. Phoenix Command out."

Destroyer

Destroyer got a call from the com officers to meet up at the Helipad. Even though Destroyer has just met most of the new recruits in his group a few days ago, he's ready for anything. He grabs his M32 is old faithful, some grenades in his bag, he had to make sure he had enough but not to many to hold him down, just in case he has to make a quick escape. He also brought his XMX1100 Scorpion: Intelligent Munitions System (IMS) for surprise attacks and his M4 Carbine for back up fire. He runs up to the Helipad and he sees his old friend Vex waiting. ~I knew he would be here first always on time just like when we were in training.~ He looks around. "Where is everyone else at where the first two here?"

As Hawkeye was sitting silently in one of the overwatch towers, weapon in hand in case something unexpected would happen. Suddenly, a call from Command broke Hawkeyes silence and he immediately began to listen as if his life depended on it, because it could, information is key in any war or battle, no matter the circumstances. Hawkeye had not ceased to remain at an ultimate alert, managing to perform look out tasks while communicating with HQ and having a map shown on his HuD device. When it's all been finished he acknowledged with an ''Solid copy HQ, Hawkeye out.'' and made his way to the helipad. Since he was already fully geared for his 20/7 look out schedule he was, almost always ready for a fight. He had forced himself to the look out procedures, if he didn't have anything to do he'd be carried back to his nightmares.

He walked across one of the many platforms beneath the main super structure of the Pheonix oil platform and climbed up two sets of ladders to bring him to the 'mainland' of the oil rig. When he was finally done climbing he had been beat by two other's of his team and he greeted them with a casual wave, it was not exactly time for discipline yet, he didn't doubt his team, he'd been with the most of them for a couple of weeks by now and he'd been grateful of them an endless amount of times upon that. However the most of their abilities are situational and this would be just like a chess game, against an opponent which will counter any solid maneuver given he sees, hears, or smells them.

He thinks quite grimly in a situation where hope will equal a thousand tonnes of gold, however he cannot help it. it's in his nature, like any other soldier he's lost more than he would like to bargain for. However there's always something known as too much. ''First Lieutenant John, First Lieutenant Jorge.'' He said in a greeting fashion whilst finally lowering his arm as he'd been confirmed that they'd actually seen him. He then spoke out to no one in particular. ''I'll give them 5 minutes, it's a rather large oil platform afterall.''

Major Roy Evans hadn’t really thought that the apocalypse would be quite like this - zombies. He’d always thought that it may be a flood, or an asteroid, anything else would have suited him nicely. He never considered that zombies could even be, until the year before. He was reassigned from the base comonly called Area 51 to another base, though it was referred to as the Clean House. He’d gone through combat training and weapons training, all in preparation for this.

Roy had heard the coms officer give him, and the rest of his new team, twenty minute notice until their first mission. He scooped up his shoulder bag and made his way to the medical facility to gather some sampling equipment and medical gear. The base reminded him of the inside of a carrier, the hatches and sort of rounded hallways that opened up into large engineering rooms, engineers and soldiers running back and forth, going about their business.

The medical facility was broken into a few rooms with nurses and a few doctors staffing it. Evans went to the equipment room and gathered a few biohazard bags, sampling vials, scalpels, a tracheotomy kit and a few other things.

He finished up and made his way over to the armory. There, he was among nearly thirty people sorting through the weapons and ammunition, making sure they were right. No one really paid him any mind as he took three clips of forty-five caliber ammunition and stuffed it into his bag. He made sure that he was wearing the right uniform of camouflage with an armband of the medical cross. He picked up a breath mask and made his way to the helipad, on the upper levels.

The helipad was not too incredibly far from the armory. He jogged his way across the catwalks and up the flights of stairs. There weren't any personnel along the way, they'd all be manning their posts at this time of day. This was the team's first mission, he knew that if they went through he same training as he had, then they'd all be more than ready. He hadn't been outside since he'd arrived at the rig, the air wasn't very pleasant, he could smell decay as the world died. It reminded him of a morgue.

He climbed the stairs to the helipad and saw that the aircraft hadn't arrived yet, though there were some of the team waiting. As he came close to the others, his heels clapped together, his back went straight and his right hand found his eyebrow, his arm rigid and straight as well. "Colonel!" He saluted his commanding officer. He wasn't really a fighter, but he was disciplined.

The locker opened to an almost panicking Rebecca in a full bomb suit, helmet being the only thing missing. Personal effects began to fly by, pictures, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a small mirror that she tried to grab with her shaking hands before it crashed on the ground, making her swear. She finally grabbed a small cylinder with the label 'Palladone Dilaudid Dihydromorphinone' and opened it before carefully grabbing a small, 2mg pill, and putting it in her mouth. As she closed the container, she stood straight and inspired deeply. Four years she had been struggling with this whole 'Acute Opioid Addiction' business. Evans had talked to her so many times using words long as her arm and of course she knew about the whole deal, but hey, apparently the thing with addiction is that you're addicted, so guess you don't just stop like that. Of course, she knew she couldn't keep face for much time, maybe he'd actually execute his menace to ground her until she went through detox, no matter how much the team needed 'Mancock' to tank for them.

She began to grab back what she had thrown to the ground, using as much flexibility as her suit allowed her to have to do so. She noticed her watch, strapped between two locks of her hand/lower arm padding, inside her wrist as it was one of the only place on her armor without a ridiculous amount of protection. Shit. She just took everything and shove it down the locker before closing it and run (Or rather jog) toward the pad.

__________________

Behind the doctor, heavy footstep could be heard, a rhythmic *clung* as Jugger climbed the stairs to get to the platform. AA-12 in bandolier, Anaconda in holster and helmet in hand, a backpack and many pockets full of grenades and ammunition. Yet, the wearer didn't seem to care too much about the weight. Most certainly the only thing telling of the female nature of the wearer of this gear was said lack of helmet displaying some obviously feminine facial features. "And I almost thought I could go more than a few days without risking my life. Good, that would have been disappointing. Didn't sign up to sit on my ass all day." Rebecca looked at the assistance. "Vex, Hawk, Destroyer... Doc... Here's to not being able to take a piss for another 8h." With this, she placed her helmet on her head and closed the final straps.

Jakob was calmly checking his equipment at his locker as he received the message, a bored look on his face. he hadn't done anything for the past week or so and it was turning his mind blank. the sound of the ocean water and all the mechanical thing-a-ma-jigs making him feel as if he was going into a vegetated state.He was happy that they were finally being called together today, or else he would've died of boredom.The Corporal quickly put on the rest of his gear, checking over everything. Boots, Check, Vest,Check. Gloves,Check. Silencers,Check. Ammunition, Check. Helmet,Check. NVG,Check. Dara,Check.Rations,Check. He thought to himself nervously as he closed the locker door, adjusting his vest and double knotting his boots. His .45 was holstered on his left thigh, and his G56C was already slung around his back.

"That's everything!" Draugen exclaimed a little to loudly, starting out the room and taking a left to the nearest ladder. the helipad was on the other side of the rig, and getting there would be like trying to complete a maze puzzle.

---

The marine slowly made his way up onto the helipad, his feet tired from the countless routes he had taken to get there. He stopped near the top of the stairs, staring at all the new 'faces', one of which was a Juggernaut. "Am I late for the party, or is this all we have?" He asked.

Destroyer

Destroyer was pumped for the kill. He was shaking too, the last time he was out in the war was when he saw his younger brother being attacked by a runner zombie. He still can't get the image of his brother body being ripped apart. It was like a massacre in front of him. He sees clanging behind him, it was Jugger. "Cheers." That was the only girl in the whole world that intimidated Destroyer. She was beautiful and deadly, like a black widow. "Well now we're waiting on who?" Destroyer was ready for anything, all his bomber training he has been through well clearly come in handy. He couldn't wait to get some samples of the zombies. If he could get enough of them maybe Doc could find a cure or something to get rid of these demon beasts. He hates them so much for everything they've did to him and his family.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

While he was waiting he was fiddling with his IMS making sure that it triggered when he needed it. He didn't want it to go off at the wrong time, and everyone would be in trouble zombie and human. Being a bomber is very difficult, he has to know all of his surroundings before he plans a grenade, landmine, or shoots his torpedo. He's very tactical when it comes to war. To him it's like a chess game, every move should be thought out, and you should never wing an attack. Every kill counts when it comes to a infestation. It's like being an exterminator going into a roach infested house and not plugging every single crack and cranny before you leave. "I hope the rest of the group hurries up, their taking to long." Destroyer doesn't like to wait around for people for too long. "Darse Prisa." (Hurry Up). When Destroyer gets irritated he starts to speak Spanish more then usual. He starts to pack his grenades into his M32 ready to go.

As he stood still, it appeared as if everything was centered around him as people arrived, one by one, to the helipad. ''Mayor Roy Evans.'' He saluted him in response and ´then calmed down, calmly lowering his own arm. ''At ease Mayor.'' Joshua waved over the Mayor to the helipad in a directional manner. As his team came in, one by one he greeted them in the same way. ''Sergeant Rebecca, Corporal Jakob.'' he nodded in their particular direction and welcomed them to the helipad once they arrived. Once Jorge asked who we were waiting for Joshua almost instantly replied. ''Three others, Sergeant Andy Jackson, Petty Officer First Class Harry Disraeli and Captain Tony Hart.'' and when Jorge began to show his restless behavior Joshua became worried, tirelessness isn't the best behavior in this type of situation. ''Calm down, Jorge.''

Whilst Joshua waited he checked over his gear and accounted for the members already present. The three had a one minute frame left, if they went by Joshua's own timeframes. It shouldn't take more than that to arrive at the helipad if you knew your way around, and hopefully most did. He went over the mission in his head so that he'd been able to make a good briefing for the team whilst they're on their way to the LZ. Basically he'd brief them in the chopper. Now. Back to waiting for the rest of his team.

The air was foul and tainted, the smell of decay overwhelmed Roy. Somehow he knew that the world was never going to be restored and he didn't want to be killed by a zombie, he'd rather take his own life. On his right side was one of his two pistoles, he reached down with his right hand and gripped it. He took it off of his belt and just stared at it - the grip, carbon fiber? No plastic? Maybe it was carbon fiber... the rest was steel. From the hammer, to the trigger, the safty and the barrel - all cold-hard-steel. This is a better death. He'd thought as he shifted the gun to his left hand, with his right he saluted his comrads while using the left to shoot himself....