Prologue

Tragedy strikes as Sentinel is taken away for repair by means of a mysterious artifact.

Kenneth walked through the fields of Prokhorovka without a word, narrowing his eyes to keep out the light of what remained of the falling sun. The whole plain was cloaked in a warm orange as night slowly approached. There was a faint crackle emanating from the fire where the corpses of the day’s losses were being thrown upon. A multitude of men from various European nations stared into it solemnly, realizing they would need to move out soon in a tactical retreat.

“Umm… Sir Kenneth.”
One of the Commander’s crew asked.
“Lucas is going to be put into the fire, and well… We thought you should join in with the funeral service… Sir.”
Kenneth frowned slightly, and continued staring at the top of a small hill in the distance.
“I do not find it necessary for the living to waste time on those who are dead.”
He stated coldly. The crewmember looked shocked.
“But sir! He… Lucas was one of our comrades! We all fought with him and-”
“Wellington, I will not repeat myself. You may honor his memory without me, as I have planning to do.”
Wellington paused for a moment and turned away with a sunken look in his eyes, walking towards the flames.

Lucas Silvion had been one of his most trusted allies. Kenneth was deeply troubled by his death, but had decided to come across as a strong and capable leader in the beginning of his glorious new career. He needed to come across as rock solid, so that his crew would have full confidence in him during battle. That was why he would not mourn this loss.

The Commander removed a bullet from his trenchcoat and held it before him.

“Farewell.”
He dropped it to the field below and turned, walking towards a steel behemoth in the distance: the German Panther medium tank. With sloped frontal armor, an excellent gun and surprising speed, it was an opponent to be truly feared. And yet, not invincible. Kenneth’s eyes dropped to the small hole left by the APCR shell in the front of the tank. While they were not put out of action by it, it had bounced around several times in the crew compartment and tore apart Lucas and ripped through the flesh in Darius’ arm. Blood still stained the inside of the vehicle, and the the thought of having to drive this machine into battle like that the following day disgusted the commander.

Two engineers had bolted some metal over the whole, but this would be purely for decoration. Steel plate like that would have difficulty stopping bullets, let alone antitank weapons. But the crowds back in Germania needed to keep thinking they were unstoppable, right? Wars are won by the will of the people, after all.

The enemy they fought against was powerful, and at this time Germania was focusing more on the Americas. Kenneth thought he knew why, but kept trying to deny it. They wouldn’t just abandon Europe and move themselves to a safer place, would they? These thoughts were very worrying in the minds of many soldiers, as supplies were getting harder and harder to obtain, let alone more tanks and soldiers.

Kenneth shook his head with a sigh and approached one of the engineers who were repairing his tank.
“Do you… Do you think it would be possible to remove all of the… The….”
“The blood?” The engineer replied with a dull face.
“Yes… Yes, the blood. Can it be done by tomorrow?”
The engineer frowned and motioned to the metal giant.
"Does it look like we can just pull a firehose out of our asses? We barely even have enough water to drink, let alone to waste on making that thing look better."
Kenneth nodded and pressed his thumb and forefinger against his chin in thought. Eventually he reached a conclusion within his mind.

"I'm taking it out for a drive alone, then."
The engineer shrugged.
"That's what you want me to tell your crew, then?"
"Yes. Please do."
The engineer nodded and began walking towards his tools, which were resting on a sheet of blue plastic.
"Should I make up another stupid a*s story about how you fixed that thing, then?"
Kenneth chuckled just a little bit.
"Was just about to tell you to."
The tank commander climbed onto the steel frame, and entered into the vehicle through the hatch swiftly, jumping behind the drivers wheel. The maneuvering system had been redesigned in order to allow for even new recruits to operate Germanian tanks. Kenneth had also learned to use the stick shift system, but preferred this new method much like many other soldiers did.

Without the rest of his crew he wouldn't be combat ready, but his goal wasn't to fight at this time. Kenneth flipped the power switch within the vehicle and took hold of the wheel and pedals, maneuvering the medium tank towards the darkening forest to the west and driving towards it, cloaked in a small cloud of dust. The vehicle's inside was rather silent, which was standard for the more well made Germanian tanks. Noise cancellation also allowed for one to hear sounds coming from outside quite effectively as well.

There was only the dull hum of the engine and faint clickity clack of the drive wheels and treads working to propel the tank forward. Being alone within the tank certainly felt rather odd, and almost eerie in a sense. All he had to do, however was peer into the small bulletproof glass viewport mounted into the hull in front of him. The landscape began to fly by as the tank gained momentum, the treeline soon approaching him as the sun sank below the distant hills and fields that made up the majority of Prokhorovka. After around fifteen more minutes of travel Kenneth drove into the small forest, lessening his pressure on the drive pedal and coming to a slow halt in a little clearing. He brought the vehicle to a halt within the concealment of the darkness, cutting the engine and climbing out, jumping from the turret and landing beside the Panther on a dense bed of dark green foliage with a dull thud.

Kenneth brushed himself off and grinned almost giddily, removing a glowing blue stone from his coat. He held it in front of his crimson pupils and observed it in wonder. This was was his secret power that would help him create a new society. And all he needed to do was command it.

"Regenerate what is before you."

Kenneth spoke, holding the stone towards the tank and waiting. As soon as the words left his mouth, a blue tendril of energy reached forth from the stone and connected with the gray metal hull of the Panther. It was soon followed by another, and another, before about a dozen were touching the tank, surrounding it with a glaring blue light and emanating a loud crackling noise. The light completely covered it, and Kenneth shielded his eyes with his gray coat sleeve. The shine and noise continued for around a minute before slowly dying down.

At last, Kenneth withdrew the now completely transparent stone from the position he had been holding it in, and returned it to his coat in one swift motion. The tank that stood before the commander now looked as if it was fresh off of the factory, with no more dirt or scratches from deflected shots and no more brittle armor from exposure to the elements.

The stone that the commander held had reverted the vehicle back to the state it was when it had just been created, also returning all of the lost ammunition and fuel. Kenneth was clueless as to how the object worked, but did not question such a useful artifact. Only a chosen few knew of it, and they were Kenneth's most trusted comrades and friends. From what Kenneth could gather, it only responded to the word 'regenerate,' and could do nothing else. It also did not work on any living beings. Only objects.

Kenneth chuckled to himself a little and paused, thinking he heard something amongst the general sounds of the forest. His attention was drawn towards his tank as the unmistakable crackling of the radio began to sound from within it. This was odd, as Kenneth had told the engineer to explain his absence to the crew. Worried, Kenneth climbed back into the tank and picked up the brand new radio receiver, placing it against his left temple and pressing down the communications' bar.

"Who is communicating, please answer, over."

He spoke nonchalantly. For awhile he heard no reply, but after about 30 seconds of silence the earpiece soon came to life.

"Panzer Commandant, it's a surprise attack! Enemy T-34s are tearing us apart! Where the hell is Senti-"

The line went silent for a few seconds, and Kenneth fumbled for the power switch, flipping it on and readying the engine as he awaited a reply. The commander began to turn the tank around by pulling the drivewheel upwards and spinning it to the left. The radio once again came online, and Kenneth picked up the receiver while pressing down the drive pedal. He could hear distant machine gun fire and explosions in the distance this time.

"Sir, I've been hit somewhere in the chest and am bleeding... All of our forces are scattering and I'm one of the last ones still at camp."

"Where is the rest of the crew?! I'm coming to get you out of there!"

Asked Kenneth frantically, as he began to gain speed, driving towards the edge of the forest as fast as he could, while holding the receiver against his ear.

"I'm... Not sure... The enemy appears to be pursuing our fleeing force... It's a massacre."

Kenneth's blood was running cold, and adrenaline coursed through him as he listened. Inside his mind he knew he could have fought off the attack if his tank had been there. He very well may have been responsible for the deaths that would surely result. He probably couldn't bare to be accountable for that, and held back his fear. Maybe it was just a prank to make him stop leaving his crew in the dark? No, that was absolutely insane! What had he done?!

"Ha-Hang in there, Wellington. Just... Hold on a little longer."

There was no reply. Kenneth threw the communicator aside in anger and took hold of the wheel with both hands, face alight with determination as the tank flew from the forest. Kenneth looked outside his viewport to find that night had indeed fallen, and parts of the sky were still lit up with white flashes like lightning every once in a while. He heard the sound of artillery and gunfire in the near distance.

The tank crested a slight ridge overlooking the camp, or what remained of it. The burning wrecks of three friendly Panzer lVs illuminated the grisly scene in the distance. Ordinarily, Kenneth would have stopped and observed with his binoculars, but there was no time. He charged down the hill, glimpsing the outline of a T-34 driving past a burning Panzer lV. The rest were cloaked by the darkness, save the occasional flash from the gun when they fired, which outlined the silhouette for only a brief instance before a boom resounded.

"D****t, no! This can't be possible!" Kenneth mused in disbelief, fast approaching the set of tents where his crew would be located, unless they had fled. Suddenly the entire frame of his tank shook from the impact of a 76mm Armor Piercing shell, which ricocheted off of the front of the turret. Kenneth nearly shouted in shock, but managed to keep his tank on course. He was being lit up by the tents which were burning, and a hit to his side could easily prove fatal. But now was not the time to worry about his own safety. He needed to at least save Wellington. He was just a boy! A fresh recruit!

Kenneth stopped his tank with a screeching halt and jumped from the hatch, grabbing the MP-40 attached to the side of the turret. As soon as he did he was bombarded with a spray of bullets, causing him to fall to the ground and drop the gun, looking around wildly for a moment to find the source. Kenneth was gripped by intense fear as bullets bounced off the other side of the tank. He was in a fetal position for a few seconds before coming to his senses. He had never had to fight in this situation before. He had always been safe inside his Panther with his crew. The battlefield outside was foreign and frightening to him.

Suddenly, a grenade detonated beneath the tank, sending a cloud of shrapnel out either side of the underbelly, and tearing into Kenneths' right leg as soon as he began to stand, causing him to come crashing to the ground once more with a scream of pain.

"Help me, someone...." He whimpered, tears running down his face as he forced himself back up with a cry of agony, limping towards the large tent in front of him and praying it was the one the radio was in. Machine gun fire was ringing out from every direction, and the roar of enemy tanks was deafening. Kenneth held his hands over his head almost instinctively as he limped into the tent to find the radio covered in blood.

"Wellington! No!"

Kenneth found the man lying on the ground in a small pool of blood, one hand covering a wound near his liver. The commander collapsed to the ground beside his comrade and sobbed, trying to wipe away his tears. The noise of battlefield became silent as he tried to come to grips with what was happening. It had been around a minute before a hand weakly touched his right cufflink.

"Th- The Teslanium..."

Wellington whispered softly. Kenneth looked at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Escape with the Teslanium..."
Wellington whispered once again. The commander hurriedly grabbed his Driver and picked him up with tremendous effort, relieved that he appeared to be alive.

"Hang in there! Sentinel is right outside!"

He received no reply and continued to slowly stumble outside with Wellington on his shoulder. With herculean effort, he threw Wellington onto the upper hull and proceeded to climb up himself, blood staining the steel red and running down onto the grass. Kenneth opened the hatch and once again picked up Wellington, pushing him feet first into the crew compartment and with one last burst of strength, pulling himself inside as well, closing the hatch behind him.

"Just stay strong. Just stay strong."
Kenneth told Wellington between gasps for air, setting his friend on the metal floor and grabbing the controls. His leg was in great pain, and he was sweating due to the tremendous effort he had put forth to save his ally. The commander had left the engine running, and once again floored the pedal, immediately hearing a sickening crunch as his tank tore apart an enemy soldier who bad been standing in front of it, breaking almost every bone in this soldiers' body as the treads ran it over.

Kenneth didn't care where he went as long as he escaped. His tank destroyed a row of tents before him, taking off into the night. A Panther was not an opponent to be pursued alone, due to its high maneuverability, which could easily turn the hunted into the hunter. The single enemy T-34 at the camp fired a single round, which flew off into the darkness and did not give chase as this Panther vanished into the night.