Flashback to the past, in a city

Some time ago...

Instrument panels hummed and the sound of whining helicopter blades pierced eardrums.

"No. We won't lose. We're gonna beat this," 1st Lieutenant Colin Klein muttered to himself. "Everything's going to be fine."

The pessimistic side of his brain which existed since puberty didn't agree with his mouth. Rather, it mocked him. Then it said he was full of shit, and that maybe there was a ten percent chance at most that the whole conflict would end... after several decades had passed. If man didn't fuck himself over.

Colin looked outside the cabin window. Things were getting pretty serious in the city of Ferrisburg hundreds of feet below, and it was only a matter of time before the rioting would intensify after sunset. The good news was that he was completely safe right now. As a passenger sitting comfortably inside a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter out on recon, there was no reason to fear of being put in harm's way. Heck, he wasn't even in foreign lands. He was back on home soil for goodness sake!

As the utility helicopter passed over yet another burning warehouse, Colin recalled all the events that had transpired within the past few weeks. It had all happened so fast... the whole panic over the XXX Virus... the worst part was that some things didn't make sense. It was just flat out weird.

At first nobody paid any attention whatsoever to this virus; it was treated just like every other obscure third world abnormality. Ignored completely by the masses. Suddenly it just started to appear at nations' doorsteps one day. Whatever the case it was already well on its way in devouring mankind. Ordinary adults of all shapes and sizes were changing into beautiful busty babes. They craved for nothing more than sex, sex, and more sex.

It was just recently learned that when it came to methods of transmission, men were more lucky. Fluid transmission was required in order for infection to occur in their cases. It didn't help that a lot of them had already turned. While the scientists argued about the disease and its properties, it continued to spread. Nobody understood it fully, and it seemed as though no one ever would. Colin wanted to imagine that work on a vaccine was well underway.

A perverted nightmare morphing into reality. Disgusting.

Suddenly the jovial copilot's voice came to life in his headset. "Okay Lieutenant, we're about five minutes out from Angler Park, hope you've enjoyed the sightseeing!"

"Roger that. Thanks for the update," the lieutenant replied dryly.

Colin Klein was a model officer for many of his subordinates in the Army. He was entering his late 20s, yearning for more experience and personal development rather than glory. He was all about being a team player, and that earned him respect and friendships among his peers. Meanwhile the chiseled face and scar on his right cheek (self-inflicted during a silly accident) would make ladies swoon. As a member of the 8th Lightning Division, 7th Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team the man had to live up to a high standard. A platoon depended on his ability to function as an effective leader.

Minutes later a wide expanse of converted land came into view. Angler Park was the base of operations for Colin's battalion, conveniently placed close to the heart of the city where most of the action was taking place. When the government declared a state of emergency and the National Guard came rolling in, the situation improved slightly before doing a complete 180. Somehow the protests and rioting managed to intensify. At that juncture, regular army units had to be called in. Enter Colin and the team. Martial law hadn't been declared yet, so it was the Army's job to make sure that it wouldn't boil over to the last resort.

By the time the military chopper landed on a makeshift helipad, the first lieutenant realized that his hands were balled into fists. He relaxed, took a deep breath, and waited for the doors to open. Once he exited his mind was crystal clear once more.

It was time to make things right again.