Psychic Overlord-Chapter 82: Marine Military Base

In the center of Al-Rafid, near its trademark fountain, was a resplendent mansion that was out of place compared to the rest of the city due to its obviously western design and its overbearing stance over the smaller residences around.

The villa was once a palace of luxury, built by oil magnates before the war with the western forces turned it into a fortress.

White marble walls now bore the scars of bullet holes and scorch marks, while the grand chandeliers cast an eerie glow over the lavish Persian carpets that had been dirtied by blood and boot prints.

The air was thick with the scent of incense, masking the underlying stench of gunpowder and sweat.

At the center of the dimly lit room, there was a man kneeling with his head on the ground, his body trembling with terror.

Looking at the uniform he was wearing, with its medals and superior design, it was clear that this was a warlord in his own right, yet the fellow was kneeling like a dog.

This was because no matter his accolades, he was utterly insignificant before the twelve beings who loomed over him.

The warlord in question was Fahim al-Jazari, supreme commander of the Insurgent Forces.

Fahim’s forehead touched the cold floor. "Masters, we have done as you commanded. Al-Rafid is under our control. The Federation’s advance has stalled. But..."

His voice wavered with a bit of worry. "They have sent an esper."

Silence followed as the group paused in surprise, then they chuckled almost in sync.

One of the twelve stepped forward, his boots gliding against the flooring and his body wrapped in shadows, as if the light itself rejected him.

This man was Malek, a former Supreme Force enforcer who had long since abandoned the law.

His voice was surprisingly smooth in terms of tone yet full of mocking. "So, the Federation sends one of their dogs?"

"How quaint." Malek mused.

Across from him, a woman who was dressed in flowing black robes embroidered with crimson, scoffed. This was Zafira of the Ancients, and she barely concealed her disgust at Malek’s tone.

She ran a finger over the golden rings on her hand, eyes narrowed. "Quaint or not, if the Federation believes one esper is enough, then this one must be formidable."

"Underestimation breeds failure." She added, her voice dripping with disdain as she glanced at Malek.

A deep laugh rumbled from the far end of the room. Vargas, a hulking brute with charred skin and smoldering veins, leaned against a broken marble column, arms crossed.

His power of Pyrokinesis had left him permanently scarred, but his strength was undeniable.

"Failure? You Ancients love your dramatics," Vargas sneered.

"We’ve fought Federation espers before. They burn just like the rest." He added dismissively, waving his hand to create an arc of intense flame and causing ripples in the air.

Sitting cross-legged on the grand sofa, spinning a dagger between his fingers, was Kain, a member of the Esper Commission’s rogue mercenaries. His expression was one of boredom.

"The real question is whether we’re dealing with a pawn or a king." He flicked the blade, catching it with effortless precision.

"If this esper is an S-Class, things could get... messy." Kain muttered, knowing that anything could happen with things like this.

Fahim dared to lift his head slightly, his throat dry. "We...We believe he is."

The room went silent as the tension thickened greatly beyond expectations.

A figure who had remained still until now finally moved.

He sat on an elaborate throne at the farthest point in the chamber, his presence suffocating in light of the news. Clad in a robe woven from pure black, his eyes were empty pits, and the very air around him seemed to distort.

Azrael, the leader of this gathering of dark espers, finally spoke.

"An S-Class, huh? And not just any S-Class esper too."

His empty eye sockets glowed with a faint yet transcendent power, making the rest feel fear for they knew that this man’s ability was a fearsome thing.

S-Class esper ability, Destiny’s Seer!

His fingers drummed against the armrest.

"Kaizer, The Overlord."

A few of the twelve stirred at the name that had been making waves in the esper world recently despite none of them having even seen him or heard much of his accomplishments.

Zafira’s lips curled slightly. "The one who humiliated the Ancients in the university attack."

Malek’s smirk widened. "The one who destroyed an elite squad of your people."

Vargas cracked his knuckles. "A fresh challenge, then."

From the shadows, another voice, almost a whisper sounded, being from one called Scythe. "A youth whose growth knows no limits..."

His voice was like silk over a blade as the esper of unknown allegiance tilted his head and continued. "What a terrifying creature."

Kain exhaled, feeling an ominous premonition. "So what’s the play?"

Azrael leaned forward, his presence pressing down on the entire room. "We will welcome him."

Fahim blinked in confusion. "You mean—?"

Azrael smiled, a terrifying, hollow thing. "He will see what true power is."

The twelve espers exchanged glances, some intrigued, some skeptical, others eager for the battle to come.

Whether this so-called next strongest esper could live up to the tale was up in the air!

..........

Kaizer arrived at the Military Marine Base in Alpha City with his Dodge Viper ACR, Rina seated in the passenger seat while listening to hardcore rap music about killing, drugs, and pimping while singing along.

The United Federation Military Marine Base was an iron fortress in the middle of a concrete jungle. Situated near the coast of Alpha City, the base had been transformed into a forward operating headquarters for the Federation’s war efforts in the Middle East.

Towering watchtowers loomed over the barbed-wire fences, their floodlights scanning every inch of the perimeter. Armored vehicles and drones patrolled the area, while heavily armed soldiers stood guard, their expressions grim.

Kaizer’s Dodge Viper ACR roared past the final checkpoint, its matte black paint job reflecting the flashing lights of the security scanners. Rina, still bouncing in her seat, shamelessly rapped along to the hardcore lyrics, drawing a few confused glances from the stationed marines.

"I got racks on racks, shooters in the back—

Pull up in the Benz, bodies in the Lac—"

Kaizer sighed, pulling the car to a stop in the designated lot. "You do realize we’re pulling up to a military base, right?"

Rina smirked, throwing up a mock gang sign before unbuckling her seatbelt. "And? Let them know what’s up."

Before Kaizer could respond, a squad of Federation soldiers approached the vehicle, their exoskeleton suits gleaming under the artificial lighting. The squad leader, a grizzled officer with a cybernetic arm, eyed them with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

"Kaizer and Rina?" His voice was rough, seasoned by years of war.

"That’s us," Kaizer replied, stepping out of the car.

The man nodded calmly. "Follow me. The Commander is waiting for you."

The interior of the base was a maze of reinforced corridors and war rooms, screens displaying live battlefield footage from Al-Rafid while soldiers bustled about, their faces hardened by the weight of war.

The squad led them to a heavily fortified conference room, where several high-ranking officers sat around a holographic table.

At the center stood Commander Briggs, a towering man with an augmented left eye and an air of absolute authority.

He had served in every major conflict of the past two decades and was known for his ruthlessness.

"Kaizer. Rina." Briggs nodded as they entered.

He gestured to a place on the main table where other top military leaders sat. "Have a seat."

As they took their places, the hologram flickered to life, displaying a detailed map of Al-Rafid. Red and blue markers signified enemy and allied positions, with the city resembling a fractured chessboard.

Briggs crossed his arms. "You’ve been briefed on the insurgent forces, but we have new intelligence. The enemy has gathered a group of high-level espers—some mercenaries, some affiliated with The Ancients. Your job is to eliminate their leadership and disrupt their operations before we push in with full force."

Kaizer nodded. "What do we know about these espers?"

A blonde intelligence officer, her uniform crisp despite the chaos of war, adjusted her tablet. "Twelve confirmed dark espers. At least three of them are S-Class."

Rina let out a low whistle. "Damn. Someone pissed in their cereal."

Briggs shot her a glare before continuing. "These aren’t random thugs. We’re talking about ex-Supreme Force operatives, rogue Esper Commission mercenaries, and religious fanatics from The Ancients."

He tapped the hologram, zooming in on a fortified villa in the center of Al-Rafid.

"This is their base of operations. Intelligence suggests their leader is an esper known as Azrael. We don’t have much on him, but he’s dangerous enough that even the Supreme Force doesn’t engage him directly."

Kaizer studied the flickering image of the villa. "And you want me to go in alone?"

Briggs breathed out lightly, his expression serious. "Officially, yes. This is off the books."

Kaizer raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

The intelligence officer hesitated before speaking. "If you die, you die. No rescue. No recognition. You’re a deniable asset for the Federation. If you succeed, your payment will be handled through the Esper Commission’s black channels."

Rina laughed. "Classic government stuff. Send the espers in, let them clean house, and pretend like they were never there."

Briggs didn’t deny it. "The Federation needs plausible deniability. Officially, we’re not using esper operatives in the war. Unofficially..."

His cybernetic eye scanned Kaizer, gauging his reaction. "This is a test of your abilities. If you survive, the Federation will owe you."

Kaizer glanced at Rina, who was excited to get into the warzone, and nodded. "Leave it to us, Commander."

Briggs glanced at Kaizer with satisfaction. "Now follow me as we handle your equipment loadout as well as your allies for this mission."