I'll be the Red Ranger

Chapter 188 – Invasion

- Oliver -

Lian's voice rang out one final time. "Forward! Together, we will bring down the Empire!"

As his words reverberated, the massive metal gates groaned to life. Their rusted hinges protested as they peeled open, revealing the sprawling streets of Seoul beyond. A cold wind swept in, carrying with it the distant sounds of the NEA base, alarms blaring, mechs whirring, and the hum of drones patrolling the skies.

An electric surge rippled through the crowd. One by one, voices rose, each person shouting their own battle cry into the night.

"Down with the Empire!"

"We'll bring them to their knees!"

"Destroy them all!"

The rallying cries melded into a thunderous roar, a tempest of defiance against the regime. Oliver stood amidst the crowd, his demeanor calm amidst the fervor. Unlike the others who surged forward, he chose to walk, eyes fixed ahead as thousands thundered past him. They poured onto the main avenue that once led to the grand gates of the National University of Seoul, now repurposed as one of the myriad NEA military bases.

The scene before him was similar to Incheon. But instead of just some few trying to get into the base, this time, the streets were filled with determined rebels facing off against the might of the Empire.

High above, watchtowers bristled with weaponry. Walls fortified with layers of steel and energy shields loomed ominously. Reinforcements were stationed at every conceivable vantage point.

On one side advanced the rebels men, and women donned in makeshift armor pieced together. Some wore battered chest plates bearing the marks of previous battles; others had exoskeletons rigged from industrial equipment. Clutched in their hands were basic weapons: outdated rifles, modified plasma cutters, and an assortment of handheld devices buzzing with unstable energy. But their greatest assets were their boons.

Opposing them stood the Empire's forces. Advanced assault rifles rested in their grips, and mechs towered behind them. The soldiers moved with disciplined precision, a testament to their training.

"It's going to be a massacre," Oliver muttered under his breath, a knot forming in his stomach. The disparity was glaring. He could envision the impending slaughter, the streets running red under the inexorable advance of imperial might.

But the next few moments defied his grim expectations.

As the vanguard of the Children of the Past closed in on the fortified gate, the Empire's troops unleashed a torrent of gunfire. Bullets sliced through the air, a deadly hail aimed to cut down the rebels before they could breach the perimeter. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness, and the sharp retorts of gunfire echoed off the surrounding buildings.

Yet, the bullets from the rebels were special. Just before hitting their marks, they disappeared, and in their place appeared grenades. The sudden change caught even Oliver by surprise. Detonations rippled across the front lines of the imperial forces, flames blossoming as soldiers were thrown off their feet. Shrapnel tore through the air, and chaos erupted within the disciplined ranks.

The NEA troops cried out in shock and confusion. "What the hell?!" shouted a sergeant, scrambling for cover as another explosion rocked the ground nearby. The mechs adjusted their targeting systems, attempting to anticipate the new threats, but the battlefield had transformed into a maelstrom of unpredictability.

The rebels pressed their advantage. Boons flared across the battlefield in a dazzling display of power. One rebel thrust his hands forward, unleashing tendrils of kinetic energy that ripped through barriers and sent soldiers sprawling. Another drew symbols in the air, summoning a shield that shimmered before solidifying into an opaque wall, deflecting incoming fire.

The area outside the base became a pyrotechnic spectacle. Flames roared as incendiary devices ignited, smoke billowed in thick plumes, and the air crackled with raw energy. Amidst the bombardment, multicolored beams of light arced skyward, colliding with drones and causing them to spiral out of control.

Oliver ducked behind the crumbling facade of an old apartment building. From his vantage point, he observed the unfolding pandemonium. The Empire's forces were reeling, unprepared for the unconventional tactics and sheer audacity of the assault.

‘This is far worse than facing Orks,’ Oliver thought, recalling the past battles. ‘At least with Orks, you rarely get blindsided by an unexpected boon.’

"Don't stay on the upper levels; follow the leader into the base." The urgent transmission crackled in Oliver's earpiece, the voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. Instinctively, he pressed a hand to his ear to muffle the overwhelming noise.

The Sixth Division had taken a tremendous risk sending such a message. It could have easily compromised their positions. ‘They're determined to see this through at any cost,’ Oliver thought grimly.

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But amid the deafening roars of combat, it appeared that no one had noticed. The enemy was too consumed by the immediate chaos to intercept or decode their transmission.

"Advance!" a voice bellowed, cutting through the din.

At that moment, the massive steel gates of the NEA base crumbled under the assault, crashing down in a cloud of debris and dust. The first wave of insurgents surged forward, coming face to face with looming mechs. Yet, despite the formidable opposition, the rebels showed no sign of fear. Their eyes burned with defiance as they charged headlong into the fray, weapons drawn and boons ignited.

Oliver sprinted forward, weaving through the ensuing mayhem. All around him, chaos reigned. He caught sight of hundreds of bodies strewn across the battlefield. Some lay motionless, while others writhed in agony, crimson staining the ground beneath them. The wounded called out weakly for aid; their voices lost amidst the relentless barrage of gunfire and explosions.

"Damn it. I can't stop," Oliver muttered through clenched teeth. Every instinct screamed at him to help, to tend to the fallen. The entrance to the colossal base loomed ahead, a monolith of obsidian walls and opaque windows that betrayed nothing of what lay within.

"Teams, split up!" a commanding voice rang out over the tumult. "Those continuing the attack, move left! Those tasked with setting up the transmitter, use the area near the entrance! Everyone else, follow me!"

Oliver recognized the leader's voice, though it was nearly impossible to spot him amidst the sea of fighters. The crowd began to fragment, each group laser-focused on their designated objectives. Rebels darted in all directions, some engaging enemy soldiers, others lugging equipment toward strategic points.

Scanning his surroundings, Oliver