Aiyana stood in formation alongside her fellow padins as they looked out upon the vast armies of the Infernal Realm. With their forward lines standing shoulder to shoulder, the padins formed a mighty shield wall roughly forty thousand soldiers long and almost thirty deep. They had managed to raise the numbers needed so their phanx could span the width of the valley, protecting against encirclement.

  The hordes of chaos had massed before them, snarling and roaring as their mouths frothed in anticipation. The demons greatly outnumbered the remaining Enochian forces, stretching into an endless sea of murderous foes.

  Aiyana knew the Divine army would fight valiantly, yet feared the conflict would ultimately favor their enemy. The Infernal army desired a brutal war of attrition, where superior skill and tactics would eventually succumb to savage force and overwhelming numbers. Despite the terrible odds, Aiyana readied herself for what would become the st great battle of their war.

  Long ago, this army of abominations had spilled forth from their native hellscape and swarmed into the Abyss—the limitless expanse between realms. The demons invaded one Abyssal pnet after another before arriving at this nameless world. Regardless of the Enochians efforts to halt their advance, the Infernal army stood at the threshold of their final destination: the radiant borders of the Divine Realm, which shone like a magnificent beacon high above their heads.

  Gazing through the energy dome surrounding the Enochian army, Aiyana watched thousands of demons circle overhead. They were proverbial vultures of the most vile and deadly order, eagerly awaiting the feast of Divine flesh below. The monsters roaming the sky came in many forms: most had leathery wings, gliding with an ominous grace, while others shrouded themselves in a bck mist that propelled them chaotically through the air.

  Finally, hovering high above the mass of flying terrors, the fallen angels waited.

  The tter were not kin to the lower races of demons but were mighty devils created to be cruel mockeries of the angelic Enochians. They acted as ruthless commanders answerable only to their creators—the immensely powerful Archons of Chaos, for whom every Infernal creature unquestionably served.

  Aiyana distinguished the fallen angels by the lights emanating from their crimson wings. She found them eerily beautiful, their feathers aglow like lingering embers after a raging fire. Though they were little more than mysterious figures patiently waiting beneath the greenish hue of the sky, she could feel their cold and merciless stares searching for any vulnerability to exploit, no matter how modest that weakness might be.

  However, the fallen angels could search for as long as they wished, but acts of subterfuge and treachery would not serve them here. The Divine army had been blessed with the time to prepare. By a stroke of great fortune, the archangels, using their powers of divination, were the first to discover the weakest point in the barrier safeguarding the Divine Realm; at the end of this valley, the pathway into paradise was at its most vulnerable, and portals could be opened with ease.

  Unfortunately, the monopoly of this knowledge would be short-lived; the Archons had remained ever watchful and learned of this revetion. They immediately began amassing the entirety of their forces upon this barren world.

  In response, all Enochian soldiers were hastily withdrawn from their contested worlds throughout the Abyss to unite here in determined opposition.

  Behind the padin’s ranks, portals opened into their realm allowing civilian mages and clerics to leave their paradise worlds and join the impending battle. Larger portals appeared sporadically as Enochian engineers pushed forth intricately built siege engines. A mix of catapults, trebuchets, and ballistae of varying designs rolled through and were positioned to unleash carnage upon the enemy.

  With spears at their sides and tower shields at the ready, the Enochians were prepared to fight and kill any who dared approach. Back home, this would have been a beautiful sight; their silver and blue-trimmed armor glistening in a dazzling dispy as it reflected the majesty of the Divine Light. Sadly, Aiyana felt all beauty became muted within this abyssal expanse, especially their own.

  The demons, seething with anger and impatience, hurled balls of fire at the Divine army, but to no avail. The Enochians remained protected as the projectiles crashed harmlessly into the immense magical boundary. Aiyana marveled at the colossal energy dome stretching between the two mountain ranges. Thousands of war clerics were scattered throughout their forces, diligently maintaining this shimmering bulwark. Their unwavering concentration was paramount, for should any of them falter or fall, a gap could appear in this vital defense.

  Aiyana shifted her attention to the fair faces of the soldiers around her. Despite their silver helmets, their golden eyes and stoic expressions remained visible. She experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach; she did not recognize a single soul. Although she respected every st man and woman in this army, she felt disheartened at the prospect of dying surrounded by strangers.

  Who is still left that I know? Aiyana wondered as she relived the memories of friends she had watched die.

  Regrettably, in retreat, many of her comrade’s bodies were lost or abandoned, scattered across a host of unnamed Abyssal worlds—terrifying worlds teeming with demonic invaders and swarms of foul creatures native to this abhorrent void. She mourned those fallen friends and mented they had not received the peace granted from being honorably id to rest.

  Aiyana’s thoughts turned to her friend Gallus, whose face was as handsome as any she’d seen. Her memories lingered on his kind smile, which had never failed to brighten her day. Catching his eye had been easy, needing only a flip of her long blonde hair and beautiful face to grab his attention. They often ate their meals together, and she always eagerly anticipated patrolling with him, for he made her ugh with a consistency no one else could.

  During the lonely nights in her ragged makeshift tent, Aiyana had dared to dream of an end to this conflict where maybe—just maybe—they could be together. Despite imagining this beautiful future, her heart whispered that any hope of finding love, perhaps even starting a family, was merely a fantasy.

  She soon learned a fool’s hope was as vicious as any adversary on the battlefield. The cruel realities of endless war had systematically stripped away everything good in her life, leaving Aiyana with the haunting memories of the ambush she and Gallus had been caught in while scouting an enemy camp. So now, when she thought of Gallus, the memories of ughter and joy were overwhelmed by images of his head spttered across the rocks by a berserker demon’s mace, a tapestry of gore repcing his once handsome face.

  Aiyana wondered if anyone else who might remember him still lived. Her lingering regrets of never telling him how she felt could be all that remained of his legacy, and if so, it was such a small and wasted legacy, one that would become extinguished when death’s cold embrace found her. An embrace undoubtedly coming within the day, if not the hour.

  As she stared at the gray ground beneath her feet, preparing herself to die for this desote patch of dirt, Aiyana noticed the padin to her left trembling. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, the steel ptes of his armor rattled, drawing sideways gnces from his comrades.

  Perhaps I can help him before the fighting begins, she thought as compassion compelled her to reach out.

  “What is your name?” Aiyana asked softly.

  He looked surprised by her inquiry but found his voice upon seeing her kind smile.

  “My name is Jerion.” He noticed the insignia of the Centurion Commanders upon Aiyana’s shoulder and subtly bowed his head. “Apologies, Commander. I didn’t expect someone of your rank standing beside me in the vanguard.”

  “I was commissioned this rank mere days before the call for mobilization spread across our forces, so there wasn’t time to receive a battalion of my own. Though I must admit, I’m a bit relieved, as I feel far more comfortable standing in the fray. When the fighting begins, do not see me as a centurion. Instead, think of me as the spear to your right, and should the time come, I may be your shield as well.”

  “To rise to your rank, to survive until this day, you must have killed many demons,” Jerion said.

  “I have, as will you before today is through.”

  Upon hearing these words, Jerion’s breath hitched, and his gauntlet tightened around his spear.

  Aiyana’s concern deepened. “Do you have a family, Jerion?”

  “Yes, my wife gave birth a few months ago.”

  “So you were pulled away from them before your bonding time was complete?” she asked.

  “Yes, Commander. I was called to the front lines well before our time together was over. My superiors informed me that once we win this battle, I will be sent home so I may know my family before my eventual sacrifice within the Abyss.”

  Aiyana felt for him, but the bonding was not simply a gesture of benevolence gifted to new parents. If a warrior had time to bond with their children, then they would fight with more strength and determination than they ever could before. After all, what is worth fighting for more than the dream of a brighter future for those you love?

  “Please, call me Aiyana. I have no doubt you will be with them again. We have assembled the greatest force in our history. These beasts don’t stand a chance against us.”

  Aiyana was lying, as neither she nor her leaders had imagined facing such a vast army. Countless worlds drifted aimlessly within the Abyss. This had compelled the Infernal legions to disperse their forces in search of the perfect entry point into the Divine Realm. Now, their true power was dispyed. And although her words provided some comfort, Jerion could not ignore the harsh reality before him.

  “There are too many. It will be like battling the waves of a raging sea. How do we stand any chance of winning, let alone surviving?” Jerion asked as panic seeped into his voice.

  “Coward,” a soldier hissed from behind.

  Jerion’s body tensed and his trembling resumed in earnest. Aiyana’s eyes narrowed. She gritted her teeth and turned, preparing to order the padin behind Jerion to hold his tongue, but her words were interrupted by piercing screams echoing throughout the valley.

  The cries of agony were followed by pleas for mercy. Aiyana was aware of demons who could imitate calls for help in Enochian voices, only to prey upon any compassionate soul naive enough to investigate. The veterans surrounding her knew this as well and held their ground. They realized this was not demonic trickery as segments of the Infernal army parted, revealing their captives.

  Each had been stripped bare and strapped to pilrs decorated with skulls. Aiyana’s stomach churned upon seeing their mutited, blood-drenched bodies. Numerous prisoners had their eyes gouged out; some had limbs amputated, while others were fyed. Yet their tongues were left intact, allowing their screams to be relished by their tormentors while their fellow Enochians listened helplessly.

  She had heard stories of captured padins taken to one of the many hellish worlds. Her mind had often wandered to grim pces as she imagined the cruelly inventive ways in which death came to those unfortunate souls. She no longer needed to use her imagination, as this gruesome spectacle left no doubt that dying in battle was a mercy bestowed upon the fortunate.

  Aiyana’s head started to throb, and her vision blurred. When she regained her bearings, she beheld her mother, her only living family, naked and bound to one of the pilrs; deep wounds covered her flesh.

  “Where am I? Aiyana, is that you? They told me they were taking me to you, that I would be released if you let them pass. I can’t take the pain any longer. Please help me!”

  A small imp climbed the pilr and began carving chunks of flesh from her body. Aiyana’s mother begged the creature to stop. It snickered, tossing each piece to a pack of hungry imps who greedily fought for their share.

  This cannot be possible! My father was a padin, but not my mother. How could she have been captured from the safety of our Realm?

  The imp grinned as it gently caressed the skin of her mother’s stomach before sinking its cws into her. It tore at the meat within, and her screams mingled with those of her fellow prisoners, a choir of suffering for all to hear. This ongoing act of sadism was more than Aiyana could bear. Even though she was in the ninth row within the massive formation, she prepared to push through their ranks and save her mother.

  “Hold, padins! Do not succumb to your emotions! Clerics! Cast fortifying auras!”

  Aiyana’s head whipped around. The booming voice came from a centurion lord inspecting their formation. Civilian clerics in hastily fitted white armor advanced from the rear guard and approached the forward line. They were reserves who stood by to repce the war clerics powering the giant dome or to cast spells of protection and fortitude. Their frightened faces made it clear this was their first time on a battlefield, but their efforts were most welcome.

  The civilian clerics raised their staves, and every soldier glowed with a brilliant blue light. Aiyana’s fear melted away, repced by a newfound strength and vigor. She looked back to see it had been an illusion, a twisted mirage to undermine their morale before the battle even began.

  Something within the horde had crept into Aiyana’s mind and dispyed her worst fear, but she was now protected against such deception. She saw the relief on the faces of her fellow padins. It appeared she was not the only one being toyed with.

  Unfortunately, the tortured woman was very much real. She may have been someone’s mother, perhaps leaving her children to be raised without her while she fought for their future. No one would ever know, as her mutited face and body were beyond any hope of recognition. The poor soul was somehow still alive; the woman convulsed, coughing up blood that streamed down her body. One would believe it was impossible to survive such trauma, but through dark magics and various forms of unknown alchemy, demons were able to keep Enochians alive far longer than anyone imagined possible.

  Aiyana gnced at Jerion and noticed he no longer trembled. His golden eyes bzed with anger as his jaw muscles bulged around his clenched teeth. “What did you see, Jerion? Was it your wife?”

  “Yes.” Jerion’s breathing was slow and heavy through his fred nostrils. “My wife was upon that pilr, dead. And our new child, our baby boy… He was nailed to her, a spike rammed through their chests, impaling them together.”

  “Do not think of this as an illusion, but a glimpse of our loved ones’ futures should we fail today,” Aiyana said earnestly.

  “I will kill them all,” Jerion spat.

  “Good man,” said a familiar voice from behind. “Steel your heart from mourning and fear. We shall kill every st one of them together!”

  Aiyana agreed. Now was not the time to mourn the nightmarish fate of these forsaken comrades nor to naively dream of mercy from the merciless. Now every remaining Enochian needed to stand proud and defiant, united in a singur resolve, ready to fight until all strength had left their bodies.

  The padins gripped their spears and channeled the essence of their Divine spirits into them. The luminous silver tips glowed with radiant light as a million soldiers smmed their armored fists against their shields in unison.

  The sound was almost deafening, but Aiyana loved it and reveled in the moment. She felt fortified to the core of her being and was ready to fight.

  They were all ready to fight.