Welcome to Oz

The heat from the sun beat down on the ground below making it sizzle as tall silver buildings reflected its rays. A convey of helicopters sped through the sky towards the tallest building, a troop of soldiers inside. They could feel the heat sizzling from above as it tried to melt through their clothing and protective gear. Some of the soldier's skin began to sizzle as the sun's rays burnt through their clothing.

The heavy roaring of the helicopter throbbed overhead as they prepared to land. The soldiers watched as they drew closer to the ground until it finally touched the concrete gently. The engines were switched off and the blades began to slow down. They jumped from the hull of the helicopter and marched towards the nearest building’s interior.

As they entered the building, the coolness of the interior hit them like a wave, a slight smell of burnt flesh hanging in the air. One of the soldiers, Grayson, looked at his burns as brushed his calloused fingers over them.

"Soldiers!" The captain thundered making Grayson snap into a salute. "What are you all donning standing around for? Get to your posts!"

Grayson hurried into a uniform line with the other soldiers as they all marched down the hall to the meeting room. As they passed the meeting room, they all spilled inside and headed for their different posts around the room. Grayson split from the group and headed for the side of the stage.

The room was quite large and could fit quite a considerable amount of people inside it. At one end of the room was a huge stage that overlooked hundreds of chairs. Behind the podium, on the stage, stood three chairs; Grayson felt his skin writhe at the thought of the three men standing inches away from him. He could feel all the soldiers around him shift uncomfortably knowing what awaited them.

Before long citizens started to filter into the room, their faces plain and sores all scaring their faces. Some of the people had massive burn marks across their bodies where the clothing had been burnt away. Most of these people had dirt covering their faces and their hair was in knots. A quiet chatter barely filled the room as parents hushed their children with quiet stories or songs.

From the side of the stage emerged a speaker. His dark suit creased with each step as he climbed the stairs nervously. He came to a halt, his eyes shifting around the room before he cleared his throat.

"War has engulfed our lands, Death is taking our people, and as the sufferers of these tragedies, we untie our armies. But we cannot be a great army without great leaders; leaders who can guide our nations to glory, leaders who can lead us into the thick of battle and ensure our victory. Without these men we are a broken nation. Without these men we are lost." He announced. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our great leaders!"

Grayson felt at the handle of his pistol that was strapped to his thigh as three men emerged from the side of the stage.

'There they are. Almost like three gods who came to earth to judge us for our sins.' He thought, his finger tightening around the pistol's trigger.

The first man to emerge wore a beige suit, his pristine and well-cared-for medals hanging on his chest. His face held no expression as his watery eyes slithered around the room. He held his hat close to his side as he perched himself on the chair.

'Jameson Roge, nicknamed the Fighter by most, however, others name him the Tin Man. He controls everything that is considered the military and controls all the world’s weapons. Like his nickname, Tin Man, suggests, he is heartless and will do anything to stay in power. With his iron fist gripped around the world's weapons he is able to manipulate anyone and everyone.' Grayson thought as he clenched his teeth.

Following him was a man wearing a dark suit which was also well kept. He had a light spring in his step as he turned on his heel to plonk himself in the second chair.

'Theodore Crisyn, nicknamed the Leader, as well as the Scarecrow. This man controls the government and, in Old world terms, is 'President' of the world. He controls all the people he needs to keep him in power. However, he isn't all that smart, which is where his nickname, the Scarecrow, originated from.' A small chuckle threatened to escape Grayson's lips at the thought.

The final man to enter the room was quiet large and had unkempt hair. He quietly followed his companions and sat in the chair on the end as smoke puffed from the cigar in his mouth. His cat-like eyes slowly swept around the room, examining each participant in the crowd.

'Wyatt Svakin, nicknamed the Healer and The Cowardly Lion for his control over the medical industries and his lack of presence in public. Wyatt seems, at first glance, to be highly courageous and strong. However, his fear of being assassinated controls his every move, making him chronically suspicious of others.'

The presenter began to speak again as Grayson zoned out. He looked out at the crowd and began counting the amount of people with small children. Before long he was counting how many people wore hats, or how many wore scarves and without realizing it he had made it to the end of the meeting without dying of boredom.

As the presenter exited the stage, so did the three men. Grayson followed as his orders were to escort Jameson, the Tin Man, back to his room. As they entered the hall Grayson and another soldier approached Jameson.

"This way sir." Grayson said, gesturing down the hall.

Jameson proceeded ahead as Grayson and his partner followed behind. Without hesitation they pulled their triggers, the bullets exploding into Jameson's chest.

They looked at each other, triumph on their faces. But before they could fully celebrate, the man was rising off of the floor. His head lolled on his shoulder as he gripped at the table behind him to steady himself. The bullet holes had shredded their way through his chest revealing his metal interior.

'He's a robot.' Grayson thought horrified.

Jameson's body began to twist and distort as his arms became spindly legs and before long he was standing on all four high above the soldier's heads, as if he were a spider. With immense speed the beast in front of them attacked. Impaling Grayson's partner through the chest was what used to be an arm.

Blood splattered everywhere as he was thrown around wildly until a crunching sound echoed through the room after his head was smashed against the wall. His body was limply thrown from the creatures arm before it turned on Grayson. Instantly he grabbed his immobilizer from his belt, his gun slipping from his grip as he zigzagged across the room.

With a giant leap he collided with the creature, a shrieking noise issuing from its mouth. As horror shivered its way through Grayson's body he placed the immobilizer on the back of the robot making it begin to writhe. The creature clawed at its back as its systems were beginning to be shutdown. Grayson was thrown from the beast as it dived into a roll.

Grayson gasped for breath as the creature collapsed to the ground, its body still shuddering as it died. Grayson coughed as he rolled over, the creature finally still. He searched the room for his partner and, upon spotting him, crawled over to his broken body.

'I didn't even know his name.' Grayson thought as he checked for a pulse.

He quietly muttered a pray for the soldier before lifting himself off the floor. He retrieved his pistol from the floor before leaving the brokenness of the room. Adrenaline still coursed violently around his body as he entered the hall. Suddenly the lights flickered and died overhead, washing him with darkness.

He froze, his pulse beating in his ears, his gun aloft. With caution in his movements he continued forward. A sudden crashing noise erupted into the hall. Heavy footprints came thundering towards him and from around the corner emerged a figure down on all fours.

Moving into action, Grayson fired. The beast crumpled and skidded to a halt. With his gun still pointed at the creature, Grayson circled around it. His eyes instantly focused on its face.

'Wyatt Svakin.' He thought with a smirk. 'A filthy hybrid.'

Grayson continued down the hall until he reached Wyatt's room. There was a massive hole in the metal door and claw marks littered the room. The two soldiers inside had been torn to shreds. With his stomach threatening to empty itself, Grayson continued on.

In the darkness, the hall seemed longer and more dangerous. Even the silence seemed to threaten him. He reached another room and opened the door. Sprawled out across the desk was Theodore Crisyn with a bullet hole in his head. In the center of the room were two soldiers; one alive, the other dead. Grayson moved forward as the soldier looked up at him, tears scattered across his cheeks.

"Please." The man pleaded. "Help me."

"I'm sorry." Grayson replied kindly. "We have to move on."

Someone entered through the doorway making Grayson snap his gun towards them. She instantly lifted her hands in an act of peace. Grayson realized who she was and lowered his gun.

'Adelyn Graves,' He thought. 'The leader of the rebellion.'

"Is he okay?" She asked gazing at the man who was now cradling the corpse.

"He's probably just in shock." Grayson replied as he tried to gain some sense out of the man.

Adelyn moved over to the corpse that was thrown across the desk. Her eyes roamed his body as she inspected it. Her eyes lingered on his features before it slid to the bullet hole and the pool of blood below his head.

"Are the other two dead?" She asked walking back over to Grayson.

"Yeah." Grayson muttered. "Shot them myself actually."

A smirk spread over Adelyn's face as she looked down on the two. She cocked her gun to the soldier's head and pulled the trigger, blood exploding everywhere. Grayson stared, completely stunned.

"What the hell!?" He exclaimed.

Without hesitation she turned on him, shooting him in the stomach multiple times. Pain blossomed from his abdomen as he collapsed to the floor. Blood seemed to pour out everywhere, staining the ground red. A small laugh escaped her lips as she knelt beside him.

"I'm securing my place as the ruler of the world." She almost whispered.

"But the rebellion! What about freedom!?" He asked. "You're our leader!"

"There are far more important things." She said a smile curling onto her lips. "Like power. Now don't get up, you'll die quicker."

She rose and turned on her heel before disappearing into the hallway. A shudder of fear escaped down his spine as Grayson felt his stomach sink. He realized that he was the one who secured her place on the throne. Darkness threatened to engulf him as he lay there.

'I can see it now.' He thought as his blood leaked everywhere. 'Adelyn Graves, nicknamed Dorothy, the leader of the rebellion and the Queen of the world.'