I stepped outside to a typical sight. Dead bodies strewn about.

The year is 2080. The Cookiepocalypse is finally happening. The Golden Cookie Armada has been sending hints for decades, and they finally decided to rear their ugly mugs.

My home is not ideal, but it's the only thing keeping me safe from the genocide machines, a.k.a. Grandmas. I live in a small bunker named Krey's Bakery. It houses 200 of the 20,000 soldiers drafted for the war. Lately the bunker has been relatively quiet since the Armada have been pretty stagnant in their attacks, however, being on constant alert is extremely important if we want to win this war.

My roommate Josey is the definition of aw

"Writin' in your journal again?"

I look up to see Josey towering over me like the 6' 8" giant he is.

"Yeah, why?" I respond, puzzled. He'd never asked about my journal before, so why now? He sat down on his bed, and leaned back on the wall.

"I don't really see the point in documenting every little thing that happens to you."

"It's not really for documenting purposes, it's just a life journal. I've been keeping journals ever since I was like, 10. But if I die in battle, maybe someone will find my journals after I die and see the story of a kid turned hardened war soldier and relate to it some...weird way."

"Ah, okay. I tried something like that when I was a kid. Got bored of it after about a month."

"Heh." I went back to writing.

esome. He listens to whatever I have to say, and is super honest. I like that quality in a friend.

"ATTENTION!" The general shouted down the hallway. You could recognize his distinct, gruff smoker voice from a mile away. We bolted out of our room and lined up with the other 198 soldiers, waiting for the General's commands.

"Everyone, the big night. We just got word from the Cookie Annihilation and Research Facility that the Golden Armada are making their return, and are planning to release the Grandmas at strategic locations to ensure their take over is as successful as possible. As always, we're going to be the ones to stop them. Hannah's Bakery is taking care of South America, Jacob has a hold on Africa, as well Europe. Megan has Antarctica and Australia, and Cody has Asia. That leaves us with the whole North America."

"Where are they headed for first?" One of the soldier's asks.

"They say their headed for Canada first, but they're masters of deception. We'll spread out across the continent, whoever finds a Golden Armada Soldier or...God help you...a Grandma, can contact the CARL and they'll send out sentries to destroy them. Go into your rooms, and you should see an email with the coordinates of where you'll be heading. Good luck, and may the mouse's light shine down on you."

The General went back to his study, and I went back into my room, and saw the coordinates.

58.3000° N, 134.4167° W

This is it. This is the chance of a lifetime to avenge my families' legacy.


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