A fractured darkness surrounded us. It was disorienting as hell and I barely registered the shouts and exclamations for direction. The side effect of my condition would’ve allowed me to properly evaluate but I kept my eyes on the sky. Ordinarily a bit pointless perhaps, as my sight was limited to whoever's ten-meter radius happened to chain up with mine but I was close enough to the command post that our area remained mostly coherent at ground level.

  Kris’ voice boomed, “Flares: high, low and self!”

  I’d been waiting for the maneuver. It was one of the basics our fledgling militia had practiced. All those with the light cantrip shot out radiant orbs, thankfully they had an anti-glare feature, affixed to various points in the air and one more around the originators’ shoulder. Another jarring perspective shift happened as my view widened massively - not only did the glowing spheres provide their own illumination but they also functioned as huge links in the perception chain. At the same time they were bolstered by far larger radii erupting around our endurance mages. I was almost inclined to look twice more as the maneuver repeated in a wave across our forces.

  Little bright orange flecks began to drift down from the sky. I felt a pinprick on my cheek as one landed there, quickly joined by more cinders and smelly specks of sulfuric ash. Did I miss it? Another order went out - scatter this time - which I dutifully ignored. It was hard to keep my gaze locked upwards while people moved about in my periphery; nonetheless, my mind was fully focused on one thing and one thing only.

  The fucker appeared out of nowhere and swooped to a sudden stop above the northeastern corner of our fortifications. It was absolutely fucking massive. A split second of stabilization, then a red flare went up past it as a contained yellow-red beam emerged from between its jaws, vaporizing everything in a line that passed by to my right.

  My outstretched hand was already extended by a floating sword, pointed straight at the thing and aimed center mass. I split off a mental process, a new trick owing to increased magical speed, set to a command - ‘absorb’. The only other thing on my mind was a rapidly repeated mantra of ‘launch’. My blade disappeared in a flash and I collapsed to a knee as my veins were electrified. Vague cognizance of a command to ‘shoot it’ was shortly followed by a prismatic display of various magics accompanied by thrown objects closing in on the scaly redhead. Another silent laser of flame, this time from right to left, was the reply.

  My seizure interrupted any further observations. In keeping with my home-made skill, I’d stuck to the planned sequence and disabled the sub-process. I tried to ignore it and get up but the pain kept getting worse and worse within me. I had to do something, anything, so I sloppily covered myself with the shieldsword and meekly set myself against it. A System notification blinked in the bottom left of my field of vision despite my interface being closed, and I happily embraced the distraction. It was either focus on that or the suffering.

  ‘Artificial pathways damaged. Engaging safety protocol. Internal energy storage limited to 106. Rate-limit in effect. Regenerating.’

  What the…? Everything turned red when something slammed against my shield, sprawling me on the ground. My attempted scream was smothered because I couldn’t breathe. I tried to push myself up against the weight of my cover but my sweaty palms slipped. The heat was unbearable, some part of me was glad I hadn’t worn my sweater despite the chafing. I had no choice but to endure. Shortly after, the pain receded at a breakneck pace and I regained the presence of mind to sheathe my bulwark. I took in a deep breath, permeated by the smell of smoke and sulfur, and then coughed my lungs out. My right arm throbbed, exactly where the crystal coin embedded in my leather gauntlet sizzled against the skin of my forearm.

  Someone helped me get up, lifting me to my feet effortlessly by the shoulder while my arm burned.

  “Hey. Hey. Look at me. Are you injured? Can you move?” It was Kris.

  I gave myself a once over. “I’m fine I think, need a minute.”

  She grabbed my chin and forced me to look her in the eyes. “We don’t have a minute. I need you to run along the length of the wall and perform triage. Just follow the destruction.” She let go.

  Run? Triage? “What..?” Reality asserted itself. The entire goddamn place was on fire, all semblance of order ruined. Cries of agony set the tone - we’d been fucked up. A circle of scorched ground and smoldering embers surrounded me.

  She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me gently since I’d frozen again. “Go, soldier!” Then she ran off before I could say anything.

  I made my way towards the ruined buildings to my east. Wasn’t quite ready to run, yet I picked up the pace once it finally sank in what was being asked of me. Reaching a hand into my rune pouch left me in awe, all seven remaining marbles crumbled away in a rapid-fire chorus of breaking glass when I transferred the energy to the coin in my bracer. A quick interface check revealed I’d almost bottomed out. Next, a tendril of thought touched the coin, followed by some very slow mental math. I refilled and swore, hot hot hot. It didn’t happen instantly like usual and instead it took about ten seconds before my energy bar topped off.

  Shit. I had a job to do. There was no time to get lost in brain fog. Now I ran, back, towards the person screaming for help whom I’d absentmindedly passed by. I looked him over, and then gagged. There was a sickly sweet smell of burned skin and molten leather coming off the guy. He missed an arm, a leg and a good chunk of that side of his body. He tried to speak while I patted out some lingering flames on his clothes. At least the rain of burnt and burning particles had stopped.

  “Shhhh. Shhh. You’ll be fine. I got you, I got you. Stay still,” I soothed.

  Pretty sure he’s going to die. I held him down anyway because this was going to hurt. Mending. He shrieked and trashed for an instant, his remaining arm slammed into me and threw me away, skidding along the ground. A stab in my side almost made me flinch as I got up and shuffled back to him. He was breathing heavily and sickly pale, but his cauterized wounds and charred skin were replaced by an even and consistent pink. Scraps of scorched leather littered the ground around him. Maybe mending really was a healing spell.

  “Hey, easy now, you feeling any better?”

  His eyes snapped into focus. “NO, I’m… actually feeling alright. What did you do?”

  “Can’t explain, System shit, can you get to the shelter?” The village square next to it had been set up as a casualty center.

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  “I think so, maybe...” He gave an experimental one armed crawl a proper try. “Yeah, yeah, I can manage. Go. Find others.”

  “Will do. Good luck.”

  I found mostly dead but also some dying people amidst the devastation on the way to what was left of the wall. Then I reached the remnants of our ramparts. A trio of yellow flares went up near HQ, signaling that combat was over but we had heavy wounded.

  I continued my mission. Oh no, no, no. Shit, she was missing parts and wasn’t moving, half buried in wooden rubble. I rushed over and started pulling the crap off her.

  I leaned over her. “Jen, talk to me. Anything.” She gave no response until I used my cantrip. Alive then, I had to dodge the snaking tendrils of white light erupting from her as she yelped from the procedure, then coughed for a bit. The lower half of her body was gone, but she managed to wisecrack, poorly, regardless.

  “Ever thought about being a little gentler, asshole?”

  “I did, but then I saw it was you.”

  “Dick.”

  “Just means you have a special place in my heart. You think you can make it? I can’t stay.”

  “I’ve got something I’d like to shove into your heart, by the way can I borrow your knife for a bit? I’m alright I think, can’t feel my legs.”

  “Afraid they’re missing, no, no, no don’t go into shock, not yet. Flare, pink, on you. Do it, Jen.”

  She pulled it off somehow before passing out - did it right too. The pink strobe hovered languidly right above her. Someone would be by soon to pick her up, probably. I wanted badly to stay but couldn’t and continued my best imitation of a combat medic, losing all track of time, driven by nothing but a sense of purpose until I suddenly realized the job was done. The dragon hadn’t come back. Maybe we scared it off? Fat chance. A green flare went up: position secure and return to stations. I complied in a slightly shell-shocked shamble past ruined buildings, thickening smoke and pools of dried blood – didn’t even look around after arriving, just sat down. Where was my team anyway…?

  I couldn’t cope. There was too much chaos and horror to process, so I didn’t. Instead I took out my shield and examined the damage. It wasn’t much more than a chunk of gre..., no, red veined slag now and I was surprised my skill still recognized it as anything. “Man, what a stupid idea,” I muttered to myself. Thought I’d been clever, figured since absorbing energy from crystal was near instant and my ability to dump mana into launches the same, the two would go nicely hand in hand. I hadn’t thought about the possible consequences of any attempts to break the System and had to count my blessings, at least it was designed to deal with this particular flavor of idiocy.

  Kris’ voice pierced the gloom, “Gabriel, come over here.”

  I shuffled over but didn’t get a chance to say anything before she spoke. “You did good for a rookie, got some bad news though. You’ve been orphaned from your squad. Stay here for now and rest. Good shot by the way.”

  “Well shit. Thanks I guess, so I hit it?” I said, barely processing her words.

  She looked a little surprised. “You didn’t see? You drew first blood, kneecapped the snake. It was still halfway in there when it flew away after the barrage.”

  I barely contained my panic. “Halfway? Kris, we’re utterly fucked if it comes back. I poured five hundred energy into it and can’t do it again either.”

  She didn’t seem fazed. “Tell me about it, most attacks did nothing. I still managed to hurt it, so we’re not completely out of options but it’s not looking good. We’ll assess for now and hopefully it keeps away.”

  One-armed Wülfgang from Kris’ party appeared and went up to the commander in chief while I settled down to eavesdrop on reports. “We need one more batch of casters, they’re still trying to make landfall. M6 reports the swarm is running out.”

  “Damn it, nearly all our remaining magic out of commission. Go to Mel, last stand-by group is there.”

  There wasn’t a lot of time for chitchat, even if the chaos had mostly settled. Or so I thought, until a red flare went up to the southeast and, a little later, to the north. Contact. Runners arrived shortly after one another. I caught ‘sandshits and woodies incoming. Lots.’ I mostly tuned out the flurry of orders after that, although I picked up Barry’s squad getting assigned to Sandshit duty, until my name was called along with another.

  We were both standing at a lack of attention. “Need you to the North, Sam go with him. Search and destroy, as many as you can. Don’t get overwhelmed or cut off, retreat in this direction. Go.” Wood golems then, we started jogging.

  I figured combat introductions were in order and popped the big question. “I’m two-four, you?”

  “One-four,” he said, so a touchcaster. “Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “You and I both, let’s get on with it then. You’ve got flares?” He did.

  We accelerated. I picked up speed and in response he started leaping forward, mostly matching my pace. Until we hit the wooden advance at least. We slowed down and Sam popped a bunch of flares. The situation already looked lost until more flares started going up nearby from the other teams sent here. Their numbers and my lack of familiarity colored my initial reaction, but they weren’t too bad.

  They had a central trunk with three root-like legs to walk with and an equal number of thick branchlike tendrils for arms. They covered ground faster than you’d expect but we could still retreat at will. The hostile plants were suspiciously numerous but moving independently, with generous spacing between them. I felt confident enough as we engaged with room to maneuver, outclassed enemies and an escape route available – not like the deal was going to get any better.

  At first I opted to stay at medium range where I belonged - they died pretty quickly when pierced by a magic sword. I made a point to combat-loot as much as possible, although I felt too threatened to pay attention to the energy returns. The multi-core part of my brain was set to auto-refill again anyway. It was still a bit of a fighting retreat and I had to block a few hits with my slagshield, which took the abuse with gusto although it would occasionally chip. Sam and I coordinated naturally. Once we piled up enough dead he’d run around in an acrobatic display of bounding leaps, high speed repeat kickoffs and treetrunk slaps. Then he did his thing and seemingly shaped explosions erupted where-ever he’d touched the fuckers, giving us a breather to loot and prepare for the rest of the wave.

  This went on for a while, until we were in the zone. Soon enough we slaughtered Errant with gleeful abandon while pressing into the ambulatory forest together with the other teams. It was hours later until we finally ran out of targets. Sam shot out some exploratory low-flying flares, then we did a self-check. Neither of us had any wounds aside from some lingering hurt and bruises - so green for us. There were only a few single yellows – which indicated area clear, but light injuries sustained. I checked up on those but figured they didn’t warrant magic surgery. Jerry and his trailing light, also here apparently, grouped us all up and sent us back with a final green flare way above the others.

  I was once more assigned to rest and it was another half hour before green and yellow flares began rising in the south-east. Combat fatigue set in, mostly in the form of mental exhaustion. Any interest in the ongoing reports faded. I could only tolerate so many numbers of the dead and maimed, squad reorganizations and supply tallies before it all blended together. At least until a debate between the three frontrunners stood out a few hours later – well, technically two frontrunners as Jerry’s new world resolution since the games involved talking as little as possible.

  “We’ve been mauled, might have to consider plan B.” I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “I know it looks bad Wulf, but we’re holding for now. Worst of it was right at the beginning,” Kris said.

  “And the drachen? I don’t think we can fight it.”

  “Noted. But our position is workable, we shouldn’t abandon it without good reason.”

  “Death from the sky isn’t reason enough?”

  “We have too many wounded.”

  “And if we get any more, the option disappears.”

  They argued in circles. I had no idea what they were talking about but I liked the plan of not doing anything for a good while. Kris had a point anyway, especially considering almost none of us had a clue what we were doing, yet things were going surprisingly well – bad start aside. In the end my attention waned until the next item on our scheduled eclipse-time entertainment appeared.

  Red flares, north. A lot of them. More and more. They just kept coming. That wasn’t a practiced signal, yet I knew exactly what it meant.

  Shit was about to go down.