When the first enemy troopers set foot on the cliffs, the defensive weapons opened fire. The Regulators charged forward, confident in the protection provided by their power armor. Once the defenders mowed down the most brazen of them, the bravery of the rest took a hit. No suit could withstand the concentrated intensity of several hundred armor-piercing rounds.

Aranea snapped her fingers, and Tiny gestured to her pack. In usual circumstances, no scout led a force of over five Wolfkins. However, because of the massive losses suffered in the past days, Aranea had been forced to grant her scouts leadership over the larger numbers. Sonya led a force of five veterans and two greenhorns; Leila commanded five recruits; and Tiny, together with Gin, shared leadership over eight fresh recruits. The two drilled their pack for strictly long-range encounters, causing the shaman to grumble about straying from the noble tradition of close-range engagement. Aranea didn't bat an eye, confident in the implemented changes, and now Tiny's unit hid behind the wall, ready to assist the defenders with their heavy weapons.

The wolf hag hoped Scarred One had her doubts dispelled when eight mortals added their rage to the battle. Aranea nodded in satisfaction at the broken bodies, both living and dead, being tossed high into the air or flung into their comrades, losing limbs and gushing blood. Any compassion she had for the enemy vanished; her old coldness, that weird brutality, forced her to see the Resistance not as humans, but as numbers to mow down.

Enough introspection. Aranea snapped at herself. It was kill or be killed, and she'd be damned if she let the uncaring beasts Yasen or Blaguna win.

Crimson beams sliced through the enemy ranks, signaling the involvement of Leila's team. The half-wyrm didn't discriminate; she taught her soldiers how to wield energy weapons. Spirits only know what sort of connections she had to pull to persuade command to arm low-ranked grunts with such expensive tools or how she dispelled the preconceived notion of their inferiority to trusted shardguns, but for the time being they wreaked havoc in the enemy ranks, picking off the bravest.

While Tiny constantly snapped orders, adjusting firing arcs, Leila used an oversized laser rifle, adding her personal contribution to the tally, fully confident that her subordinates would carry out their responsibilities without her constant personal input. Her weapon was a custom-made monstrosity, gifted to her from the Wyrm Lands. She had said that the old demon used this very rifle on his various missions when he had a humanoid shape, and later other half-wyrms redesigned it so it would remain superior to most models. Its trigger was located within the glove of the weapon, a modified handle into which Leila stuck her arm. Anything this rifle's ray touched, it melted, burning paths through humans' chests.

With satisfaction, Aranea noted that Leila and Tiny were avoiding targeting the injured or the cowards. It was proper. The mercies aided the state's army by instilling fear among the enemy rabble with their screams or loud moans. Each wounded escaping the battlefield will put a strain on the opposition's medical supplies and morale.

Occasionally, the Wolfkins in Leila's pack missed, hitting limbs instead of heads or chests. Sonya's concerns were proven true. The slight confusion was to be expected since every cub of the Wolf Tribe learned how to use a shardgun from a very young age and instinctively adjusted their aiming to compensate for recoil, and with its absence they kept making mistakes.

Irrelevant and on me. She stood tall on the wall, daring her foes to try to gun her down. They had an abundance of ammunition; might as well go out for a chance. Later, she'll petition Normies' snipers and experienced scouts to provide pointers. She should've done it before, rather than overbearing Leila. For now, they had a battle to win.

The intense barrage forced the rebels to halt their advance, throwing them back. One by one, they died or were mutilated. The wounded screamed, crawling back to the stairs, attempting to escape hell, and ended up in even greater danger from being trampled or blown up. Try as they might, it was the worst choice to make. Aranea was unsure how to feel about it. On the one paw, she had to achieve victory for the sake of her allies and the Dynast's vision. On the other paw, her cold indifference scared her. Monsters act that way—fiends of Tilden's caliber. For two centuries, the Reclamation Army had banned the infliction of any harm on surrendering opponents or the wounded.

Do we really have any options currently? She wondered, signaling Sonya as legs of the most insistent enemies had crossed a line. Sonya and her pack raised missile launchers, unleashing their hell. These oversized weapons, used in a stationary mode by Normies, housed up to three anti-infantry missiles. Upon closing on the target, the primary missile split apart, releasing dozens of smaller projectiles to cover a wider area. These projectiles sent shrapnel flying and spread napalm that seeped into the smallest cracks. Unlike Tiny's mortars, these weapons were designed for medium-range use.

Stage a retreat or give up, you fools. What are you dying here for? Everyone would be better off under the Dynast. Don't you have cubs at home? Can't you see that an attack here is not effective? Aranea thought angrily , watching the people roll on the ground and tear at their suits as they cooked inside. Their shrieks soon subsided due to the burns reaching their lungs, and the smell of cooked flesh turned her stomach.

She'll never get used to it. Far too few tried to retreat.

A radar buzzing made her look up. Fresh reinforcements descended from the swirling smoke. Strange, with plates covering individual parts of their bodies, leaving the exposed, gleaming steel limbs free. Some had half of their heads protected by helmets, while the other half was a jumble of moving silvery gears and microchips encased in plates. Bentos. They flew thanks to jetpacks installed into their spines. Like meteors, they crashed ahead of their allies, stretching out their hands. Shield bubbles popped into existence, overlapping the front line and absorbing the brunt of the defenders' fury as the advance resumed. Soon the series of individual force shells merged into a single, elongated crescent, refusing to rupture no matter the protection.

"Annoying," Ursico said, commanding the troops in the trenches to retreat.

"They can guard those in the front. The weapon teams should keep firing in the arc over their heads; no need to give them a centimeter without making them pay for it," Tine said over the communication.

"Wise," said Scarred One. "Don't we have anything capable of punching through these shields? They're linked; if one fails, we'll create a chain reaction to overload the rest."

Two defensive towers spat their shells. Each cannon had a 180-mm internal bore and was considered part of the medium artillery. But their projectiles smashed against the force field, and their debris bounced back, leaving trails of sparks.

"Clearly we don't," Tiny said sourly. "Lieutenant! Please give the order for the cannons to shoot over the enemies."

"Belay that request. We have the means to break through." Aranea looked at Leila.

"Yes!" The half-wyrm nodded. "Lieutenant, command the cannons to aim at the cyborgs on the left and right sides of the group in the middle."

"But what…" Tiny gasped. "You are correct; it should have enough penetrating potential! Wolf Hag Aranea, if you would, use your rail gun to break the balance!"

Aranea quickly took her weapon and aimed. The infernal thing still struck a frightening respect into her soul. While training to use it, she feared it might misfire and accidentally maim her allies. And the aftermath of its shots that passed through everything... who knew what a shockwave could do to the troops in the trenches?

Enough. Believe. The wolf hag pressed the trigger.

Just like before, first she saw a hole, rather small, in the enemy. Before the hellish thunderstorm reached her ears, the shockwave tossed the Normies off their feet, face down into the sand, and the tiny hole in the enemy cyborg widened, rapidly swallowing his torso and arms and spewing the wind in a tornado behind, ruining his allies. People cracked no different from porcelain dolls, and a red mist—the blood turned to steam—billowed over the shocked troops. Most had died so fast that their brains never registered the moment of their demise.

By the Spirits. I killed them. So casually. Is that how warlords act? Is that what the future holds for us? No wonder we must unite the world before war destroys our planet. The wolf hag swallowed, wondering if anyone should be able to snuff an existence with the same ease as a candle. Her arms took aim, preparing to fire again, acting on the drilled-in instincts. Kill or die a senseless death… Dad, Mom, forgive me. I must keep my troops safe.

Electric disgracers ran over the intact cyborgs. They twitched; several fell as the shield burst, disappearing. The towers repeated their attempt, now tearing two Bentos into pieces, and Aranea shot again, sensing bruises growing on her palms. Two meager shots and it became difficult to hold the weapon. The recoil slammed into her body, passing through the armor with ease, giving the impression of sledgehammers beating her paws, shoulders, and elbows. The wolf hag was half of a mind to fire another shot when a wall of fire rose from the enemies, abandoning their torment of the soldiers, and rolled toward the defenders. From it emerged the familiar figure in the red cloak. The man's bare head could be considered handsome if not for his broken nose. Up close, his suit resembled a mesh of poorly fitted parts joined together to maximize physical aptitude at the cost of exposing energy cords. His head seemed tiny in the gorget. He pointed at the trenches.

"Don't think so, buddy," Leila calmly uttered.

A red beam struck the man's right eye. Rather than burning the surrounding flesh, the ray passed unopposed, and the skin kept its tanned color. Even part of a brow still existed, and through the hole could be seen another trooper. The man stood unconcerned, as if losing his eye and the brain matter were no more than splashes of dirt on his clothes. He leaned forward, coming apart in flashes of fire, and reformed himself into his previous stature, lacking any sign of damage. He laughed, spreading his arms, and pillars of flames erupted in the closest trenches, exploding the grenades of the soldiers and overheating their suits to impossible degrees, ending their lives on the spot.

"Burn, Reclaimers! Burn!" he yelled, running ahead and closing the fire around himself. He wasn't concerned about protection, using his power to create a veil for his troops to move behind. A scorched soldier crawled out of the molten mess and raised her trembling hand, begging him for mercy. He tilted his head and kicked her into the embrace of a cyborg.

Not Yasen, got it. Aranea noted to herself. If she had been a rebel, she would have rather surrendered prisoners to the cyborgs.

"Ideas?" Leila asked, firing again.

"Pour a fire extinguisher on him," Aranea said. An arc of flame slashed toward them from the attacker. "Don't think he'll let us. Keep the rest off the wall. Have our soldiers retreat to safety!"

"Just kill whoever you can; we'll figure out something later!" Tiny shouted, hurrying her team.

The cyborgs tore through the fiery wall, using their jetpacks to fly. Their hands changed: the fingers on their left hands folded into their palms, and hooked blades slipped from their vambraces. Their right hands clenched to form rifles. Several cyborgs fell when the defenders shot at them, yet most passed unharmed, landing upon people on the wall and clinging to the defensive towers like ravenous insects.

Aranea switched her rail gun for a regular shardgun and ducked, evading a slash. The Bento had cracked the stone with his crash; his upper torso rotated ninety degrees to face her, letting him attack without the need to turn his whole body. Before he could fire, she shattered his skull with a single shot. He took a step, struggling to accept his demise, and then toppled down, leaking brain matter.

Three cyborgs climbed the turret on top of the tower, and something emerged from their open chest cavities. Aranea recognized them as sticky bombs. Red rays fired by Sergeant Alek's sniper team melted their backs and heads, dropping all three.

"Curses!" he yelled into the com as two more cyborgs landed on the second tower. One more joined them and created a force shield to defend his comrades as they set up explosives. "We can't hit through…"

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"Excuses," Scarred One said calmly.

Her massive form appeared underneath the shield. She moved deceptively slowly, as if swimming in a quicksand pit. It let her bypass the force shield, and once inside, she caused carnage. Shamans never used ranged weapons, aside from tossing blunt objects at their foes, and followed ancient traditions to the letter. Compared to them, most wolf hags were cubs. While not as fast or agile as warlords, the shamans remained the elite of the elite within the Tribe, and their claws were renowned for their ability to rend most known metals. Their speed permitted them to outrun bullets or catch them with their fingers.

When Scarred One lunged at the Bentos, slashing them apart, the enemies understood the limits of their upgrades and the ferocity of this melee fighter. It was not a battle; no blade or bullet even scraped her armor. Had they been smarter or less stubborn, they would've detonated the explosives, but the Bentos' beliefs could match the Wolf Tribe's fervor, as Aranea understood. It caused their mission to fall, and their pieces slid down the tower.

"Shoot more, complain less."

"By your will, honey!" Alek laughed, sniping an officer organizing an attack, and the shaman growled in familiarity, snatching a cyborg from the wall.

Her grip broke the man's arms and legs, and she held him, puzzled and wondering if she should close her paw. Aranea prepared to order her to spare him when the shaman tossed him inside the facility and away from combat to be picked up by the medics later.

"Our power is our gift, sisters and brothers dear," Scarred One sang, walking past two cyborgs. Her swing beheaded both. "By contesting our instincts, we grow wiser. Don't be afraid of it; accept and control it, becoming strong enough to protect those you care about!" she yelled, frothing at the mouth.

More cyborgs flew over the wall, landing near Tiny's unit. Aranea wanted to jump down to help them, but doing so would mean abandoning her Normie allies. Her task was to protect them, Sonya and Leila, while they were busy hammering at the incoming rabble, thinning out the foes.

I can't save everyone. Aranea tried to convince herself, killing a cyborg trying to slice the back of Leila's soldier. The Wolfkin nodded to her and turned around, firing her laser rifle and in turn saving a Tiny's warrior. My weapon is best suited for close range. No reason to let it be silent. All I can do is trust in my pack. And in those fighting by our side.

A cyborg almost closed in on Tiny while the scout was busy helping reload a mortar. She didn't bother reaching for the weapon on her back, all too concerned with issuing commands to her pack. Even as the enemy's blade stabbed toward her lean neck, she ignored the impending doom. The slash never reached its mark, and the cyborg turned into floating dust, eradicated by the stomping Lieutenant Marveni in his suit.

His disruptors boomed, spewing waves of annihilation. Marveni had spent entire days sitting and sleeping in this suit, even going as far as eating and drinking while using his manipulators to open bottles and bring spoons to his mouth, disregarding warnings of the medical personnel and assuring them that he could handle the strain. By now, he wielded the walker as a second body, though the color had mostly drained from his face. Tiny shouted thanks, and Ursico moved away, leaping at another fray. The shaman replaced him, punching in the chest of another cyborg.

"I must admit. When I saw you after birth, I was certain you would be a burden to the Tribe and wouldn't find fulfillment because of your frailty. Therefore, I advocated for your culling. Now, however, I can see that they were right about you and I was wrong. I had already informed Impatient One. You can live a full life and be of use," the shaman said, blocking a shot aimed at Tiny with her back.

"They? You know who my parents are." Tiny's paw shook, but then she collected herself and fired another round. Reloading the mortar, she said in a calm voice, "I need to know. Please… and behind you!" she shouted, noticing a cyborg through the shared vision.

"They'll reveal themselves in time. It's not my…" The shaman whirled, slashing the sneaky opponent. "…secret to reveal," she finished, and pieces of the corpse scattered.

"Idiocy," said Ursico, crushing a body underfoot. "They're losing too many valuable assets. This whole storm is nothing short of lunacy." His disruptors dusted another intruder.

"I agree, but…" Leila raised a cyborg held in the coils of her tail. She tore off the thrashing woman's mechanical arms at the elbows and broke her legs before tossing her to the soldiers below for capture. "It's not like we can discuss the futility of their continued assault with them over a cup of coke, right?" The maimed cyborg was dragged to safety by a pair of medics.

"True, but we need all the help we can get. Ursico, it's time to send in the remaining drones; our people are getting slaughtered in the open," Aranea petitioned to the lieutenant, watching another bunker go up in flames, its walls flowing. A reddish dot appeared on its surface, and the creep in crimson walked out, exploding a fireball inside. The lieutenant's suit nodded.

He sent the command, but no fresh drones joined the battle. Ursico faced the east, confused, and then two loud booms sounded from the square before the main entrance. The drone carriers were destroyed simultaneously, and even before Ursico could demand an urgent report, Aranea saw the life signs of the guards disappearing one after another, including one metal suit that had been stationed there for support.

"Predictable thugs!" laughed a familiar voice, and the wall shook. Yasen broke through it, sending tremors that tossed dozens of soldiers off their feet.

They took aim at the breacher immediately, and he made a tossing gesture, sending a kinetic blast of tremendous strength. It crashed into the structure, widening the breach and collapsing the ground under their feet. Aranea grabbed the parapet and caught two Normies with her legs, swinging them to safety. Yasen laughed again, firing a second ball of kinetic force at the shield station.

Under its pressure, stone and metal, built to withstand artillery barrages and missile strikes, splintered. A third blast followed, opening a wide hole in its side. The defensive fired, yet their shells slowed down and crumpled in the kinetic field conjured by the Regulator. He pushed, and they fell. Yasen's laughter stopped when Leila's laser beam melted a plate on his knee. He glanced at the half-wyrm and used his power to bounce back into the fires, screaming to his troops to advance.

"Alek! Why hadn't your team downed him?!" Ursico shouted, catching two of the fallen soldiers and returning them to their feet.

"My apologies, sir! We are ambushed by the greenies!" Aranea heard the snarling and hissing of acid. Alek rolled with an assailant, evaded a clawed hand, and grasped his knife, stabbing the creature's neck.

Fires licked at the crumbling defenses as the three figures charged from its depths. The one in the green cloak scaled the wall and confronted a nearby Wolfkin. The soldier fired, striking the discarded cloak as the man in silver armor jumped, landing behind the Wolfkin. His armor was stylized after the human body, replicating even abs and ribs, and the helmet was fashioned after an image of a smiling man with glasses and curly hair.

He touched the Wolfkin's back and the shoulder of a Normie soldier. The Normie yelled at the top of his lungs as his shoulder shrank to a dot, the muscles violently tore from the body, and bones collapsed and separated. The Wolfkin never even had a chance to scream. His chest became the size of a rock, and limbs and head rolled on the stone, while his lips still tried to inhale.

The figure in a blue cloak darted to a group of soldiers, and by her slender frame, Aranea thought her to be a female. Underneath her cloak, she wore a lighter version of power armor, with most plates stripped off to provide maximum freedom of movement. Her round helmet was thin, and cables of exoskeleton ran exposed over her. At the mere touch of her gauntlets, convulsing people lost their footing. Aranea saw no injuries on them or in the coming data feed, but their heartbeats intensified, and they yelled in severe agony. The mysterious woman placed the heel of her boot at the throat of one, tilted her head, considered killing her, and then moved on, leaving the weeping crowd behind. Soon they lost consciousness.

Last came the warrior in red, climbing to the top of the wall, and Aranea commanded everyone to back away from him. Sonya snarled, obeying the order, escaping the heat licking her boots; however, Leila remained in place, challenging the intruder as she tossed her rifle to another soldier. The armor fully sealed her as the flame caught her.

"Leila, escape or…" Aranea yelled, worried.

The half-wyrm shrugged, testing her fingers.

"Don't worry, Wolf Hag. We wyrms are just built differently," the woman said calmly.

"All the more interesting to me, Lizard!" chuckled the flame man.

His heat, which boiled the blood of people in their suits, did not affect Leila at all. She enjoyed it, closing the distance and evading a punch before crashing her fist into the man's face hard enough to break it. Sparks of flame flew as he disappeared, reforming behind Leila as fire clung to her, obscuring vision. She switched to Aranea's cameras and dodged a stab with the right hand, grabbing him by the wrist, before throwing the man overhead.

The wings' tips, sharper than knives, stabbed the flame user in the chest, trying to pin him. They pierced his armor, but not the flesh, and Leila's unusual lenses opened so the light of her eyes could touch the enemy in an attempt to bend his will. He grunted, erupting in fiery tongues that slipped past her, forming his body to her left. A single kick in the jaw sent her splattering against the shield station, and she gasped, sliding down, her pauldrons steaming and melting. She landed on two legs, refused help, and accepted her rifle.

"I confess," she said, checking the weapon. "I have not the faintest clue how to do him in or how to contain our guest. He seems to be able to regenerate from flames and teleport using them even without receiving any damage, in addition to being able to conjure them at will. An annoying combination."

"Flames, huh?" Aranea repeated, coming up with the idea upon remembering something. The surviving Bentos and the three strange New Breeds charged toward the breach, and she understood the need to divide their strength. "Shaman. Take care of the silvery bastard. Take notice that if he touches you, your body part will shrink. Leila, Tiny, stop the woman. Her touch invokes agony in pain receptors, so just shoot her. I'll handle the firefly. Ursico, Sonya, you hold the line here; let no more join them." She raced to the breach.

"Take care? How?" Leila demanded.

Aranea didn't bother to answer, focusing on running. The man in crimson could easily murder them all unless he was stopped or distracted. Together they charged into the breach, planning to stop the foes from reaching the generator hall. The shaman crawled at the ceiling, lunging over the cyborgs and almost skewering the man in silver as he recoiled back in fear. A slash followed, shaving a stripe of metal from his boot.

"Hell take it all! She's too fast!" He retreated, and two Bentos stood ahead of him. "Don't, you dolts! We aren't dying here!" He snatched a small object from his belt, tossing it. As it left his hand, the object grew to be a bundle of explosives. The ensuing boom sent Scarred One reeling backward and collapsed the corridor, sealing the road to the generator.

"Cretin!" the woman snapped, facing the pursuers. "We don't have time to waste on this shit! Lalo! Melt another hole."

"Sure thing," replied the man in crimson. He raised his hand, and Aranea fired, making his head disappear. His body disintegrated into embers, rekindling itself in the fire next to her. His eyes found her, and he smiled. "Wolf Hag. I've never killed one before. Nice of you to offer yourself to me."

"Let our actions speak for themselves, shall we?" Aranea teased, firing again and ramming into the door nearby. "So far, you're the one whose ass has been spanked all day long."

She hoped it would be enough to provoke him, and to her relief, she ended up being correct. The wall of the kitchen heated and flowed, and a ray of heat sliced inside, evaporating plastic tables and superheating trays. Lalo stepped inside, with a bright halo at his back. His comrades faced the defenders in the corridor without his deadly potential.

"To be honest, I kind of feel bad about killing your kind," he admitted with a chuckle, walking to her. "It's wrong to harm doggies. Animals are adorable and loyal."

"We're humans, you bastard!" Aranea's shot sent shards through his neck.

He disappeared in a flash, and a pyre of flames rose next to her. From it his fist came down, barely missing her and cracking the stone floor, shaking the entire room.

"Nice of you to educate me. Now I can put you down with a clear conscience," the Regulator said merrily.

"Filth, you're working with the cannibals and sadistic torturers!"

"Don't lump me in with Huntsman." Lalo frowned. "I'd kill him myself, but desperate times, desperate decisions. There's always later. King won't rule us forever. The Regulators of old are coming back, and we'll purge any taint from our noble name. As for Leader Blaguna… He-he."

Why is the firefighting system not activating? Aranea thought, racing back to the kitchen. Flames appeared from under the tiles, threatening to engulf her boots at the mere gesture of that man. They were supposed to… Wait! No one warned us about the attack on the square. Could this new enemy also disrupt our alarm systems?

When she reached the entry to the cooking area, an explosion propelled her up, and she stumbled inside in a torrent of fire and molten stone, pursued by Lalo's laughter. She crawled toward a fire extinguisher and flew back as Lalo gestured, exploding them. Aranea rolled to the center of the room, and another rising pillar of heat tossed her onto a table, which cracked under her weight. The systems of her armor beeped warnings, advising an immediate escape from the area. What could she possibly do…

Then she saw the solution. The black dots on the ceiling were exactly the same as the ones Ursico had shown her. Each contained powder capable of extinguishing the flames. Just what the doctor ordered. She stood up, recalling how much Lalo enjoyed going into melee after reforming. Let's use it.

Aranea positioned herself under one such dot, took aim at Lalo, and shot. He smiled at the holes riddling his chest and disappeared. Her crimson eye tracked the streaks of flames dancing closer and racing past her, stopping to her left… The wolf hag jumped the second they stopped, evading the low kick, and fired the shardgun at the dark spot.

Black powder fell from it, snuffing out the flames on her suit and covering the man from head to toe. He didn't vanish and grabbed his throat, trying to gasp. Even Aranea was taken aback by the terrible wheezing noise of his constricting throat trying to push in the oxygen. Pure, animalistic panic replaced arrogance in his eyes as he stumbled back, crashing into the wall, scratching his neck to blood in an attempt to inhale, but he had already inhaled the powder, and it plugged the airways. A New Breed of his caliber could survive for tens of minutes without breathing, but his panic was doing him in, causing him to move and commit wasteful movements.

Aranea took aim, planning to put him out of his misery. If she had known how to save him, she might have offered that in exchange for his surrender. However, her options were currently limited, and a swift end was preferable to slow suffocation.

Lalo noticed her and gestured, creating a fireball near the shardgun's barrel. The fireball pushed in and exploded the ammunition, ruining her weapon for good. Before she could use her claws, he turned toward the wall and released a ray of energy, melting himself a path outside. Still wheezing and tearing chunks of his own flesh with his dug-in fingers, Lalo charged outside, escaping from the complex. Aranea suppressed her instinct to chase after prey and headed to the generator. Should it be disabled, the Resistance would bring the wrath of their long-range artillery upon their position, turning the tides and winning with ease.

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