Summers only hesitated another instant before his brain kicked into action. Someone was shooting at him. He needed to move.

A shot that would have torn through his head slammed into the ground just as he dove behind cover. Summers shouldered his rifle, searching the area beyond for the shooter. He couldn’t find one. A shot rebounded off his cover, forcing Summers to duck.

He was an idiot. They’d been doing operations like this for weeks, of course the samr would have thought up some kind of countermeasure. This leader had likely held back once he saw they was under attack and waited for this.

Another shot came, punching through the thin metal at his side and shattering one of the plates in his vest as it rebounded off him. He winced.

Asle might be dead right now because of him. Then, everyone in the obsidian world would be trapped and likely starve there because he’d told them it was safe. Another shot pinged off his cover, and he took a breath. Yes, he was a moron. Yes, this was all his fault, but killing the asshole shooting at him right now deserved priority. Everything else could wait.

Summers popped out of cover, spraying down an area vaguely in the direction he expected he shooter to be as he ducked behind the remnants of a few crates. After a moment, the crate beside him practically shattered, he looked to find a ragged hole in its center, just by hits head. Summers bit back a curse before a plan started to form in his mind.

That last shot had given him a window that let him see the shooter’s vantage point, in theory, at least. Summers angled his gun over his cover, leaned as far away as he could manage, and pulled the trigger.

The weapon kicked in his hand, but at this point he could manage the recoil without much effort. The guy shooting at him, however, didn’t know that. Summers saw the muzzle flash of a rifle just as a spray of fire tore into both the box holding his weapon, and the gun itself. He jerked his arm back as the gun went skittering across the ground only to land several feet away, the barrel twisted in a way that was not ideal.

“. . .Fuck.”

Now he knew where the shooter was but didn’t have a weapon, wonderful. Summers looked around him, he could take one of the fallen soldier’s guns, but there weren’t any he could see from here.

Then, he spotted the remnants of what used to be one of the two half-metal monsters at his back. There was something that looked like an engine block as tall as he was. Another, hopefully more effective plan began to form in his mind.

This entire base had been established in a valley of sorts, and from the ridge surrounding them, it didn’t look like there was any way for the other man to retreat from his position. So, the only thing he needed to do was get in close. This was either going to be a terrible idea, or a great one.

Summers took a moment to psyche himself up, before launching out of his cover. Gunfire peppered the wall around him, nearly catching him before he could make it to the remnants of the monster he’d killed. When he was safely behind the substantial slab of metal and what looked like bone, he crouched down, pressing one arm deep into its core, and lifted it. Then, slowly, he started walking towards his enemy.

One shot after another pinged off of Summers’ makeshift shield as he moved forward. A muffled thump, followed by an explosion that nearly rocked him off his feet sent a jolt of searing pain into him. He gritted his teeth. In short order, the gunfire escalated into a fully automatic stream that chipped away at the metal. The sound of movement caught his attention, and Summers broke into a full sprint, rushing the last length as the fire abruptly stopped. Motion registered beside him, and the barrel of a rifle came into view. Summers twisted, using the mass of metal as a blunt instrument, and bringing it down on his would-be attacker.

Crunch.

There was no scream, just the wet sound of flesh, bone and metal being crushed under an impossible force. When Summers wrenched his slightly mangled arm from his metal barricade, he finally got a good look at his attacker. He was a human, a former soldier by the look of him. The man’s lower half had been all but crushed, along with his gun, what was left of him was a bloody mass of spiky gray skin in a vaguely human shape. That same skin shifted to the exact color, and even texture of the soil, creating an almost perfect imitation of the ground he lay on.

So, it was camouflage. Really, really effective camouflage. The man’s arm twitched, reaching for a sidearm on his hip, only for Summers to step forward and crush that arm. It popped like a grape.

The man stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t scream, instead, he laughed.

“He said you’d come. He said-” The man rolled over, clutching at his stump of an arm, still laughing. Summers leaned down, picking up the discarded side arm, and pointed it at him. “Wait!” The other man held up a staying hand. “Wait. I’ll just come back if you do that, just let me talk.”

“Why should I?”

The man paused.

“You care about that girl, don’t you? The one I killed? He says he can bring her back. Make her like new. The ark stores everything it touches, it has her, and you. You could live forever.”

“He?”

The man gestured with his one good arm at his head.

“He. . . he's in my head.”

Summers hesitated. The fact this guy was even talking brought up a very important question.

“Why do you want to make a deal?” Summers asked. “If you can live forever, then why do you care if I kill you or not?”

“Because it’s coming,” the other man repeated. “It’s coming, and the sooner you give up, the sooner we can prepare.”

“What? What do you mean it’s coming?”

The man pointed upward. Night had fallen since they’d started, and his finger was pointing to an empty stretch of sky. “It’s coming,” he repeated. “He told me, and when it does, we’ll all stop being us.”

Summers took a long breath. He might sound insane, but after what Summers had seen in the city, he wasn’t willing to write any of these ramblings off quite so easily. He remembered the portal Asle made, and images of her terrified face as the portal collapsed replayed in his mind.

It took everything Summers had not to kill the other man there and then.

Summers stared him down another moment. He was still wearing remnants of his fatigues, ‘Elias’ was written on his chest. Right now, he was helpless, and more useful to him alive than dead. Assuming he knew more about the samr.

And, if he was willing to make a deal, it might be their only hope to save everyone in the obsidian world, if the worse came to pass.

After another moment of consideration, and a lot of discipline, he grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him back to the enemy base.

Around a day later, Summers found himself staring up at the night sky, towards the spot of pure darkness that the other man had indicated. He counted the stars that ringed its space, twenty-three.

That was one more than the night before. As if something was blocking the night sky behind it, and it was getting closer.

“Okay. . .”

The base he’d raided in the aftermath of the fight had little to nothing in the way of food he was willing to trust. What may have passed for their rations, was instead an amalgamation of black goo he didn’t trust enough to touch, let alone eat. He had, however, managed to find a new rifle, and a few bits of equipment. Flares among them. He figured since he was lost anyway, he may as well have something to signal the base, just so he wasn’t shot on sight.

To make things worse, he hadn’t been able to sleep since that fight. He was both unwilling, and unable to leave his ‘prisoner’ unattended. After all, no matter how secure he was, the samr were still able to communicate with each other. Seeing movement on the hill in the distance validated that paranoia for him. Around fifteen figures stared down at him. With his night vision, they weren’t going to get the drop on him so easily.

Summers lifted a sidearm to his prisoner’s head.

“Tell them to back off.”

Elias smiled, and he saw the shadows retreat back into the darkness.

Looking at Elias, he was definitely the worse off of the two. Summers had bandaged the other man’s. . . everything, mostly to keep him in one piece, but it still surprised him that he’d managed to last through the trip without issue.

Summers lowered the gun after another moment. He was starting to feel the exhaustion setting in.

“We’re almost there,” Summers said more to himself than anyone.

When Summers felt like he’d rested long enough, he got to his feet, grabbed the other man, and started walking. The base had to be less than a day away. Travelling in the obsidian world may have been easier, but he underestimated how much it cut down their travel time.

As he walked, Summers glanced up one more time at the dark spot in the sky. If there really was something coming, and everything he’d seen so far had pointed to the man telling the truth, then he might have fucked everyone on this planet.

Even if they somehow won, wiped the samr out completely, there was no way they’d be able to fight something like that. Hell, from what he’d already seen of it, Summers wasn’t entirely sure it had a physical form.

But then, he didn’t think the samr could win either. So, maybe they were all fucked from the get-go.

The radio at his side crackled. He stopped, taking a look at it. This entire mess had been started trying to get these things working again. Unfortunately, the fight had been far more kind to him than his equipment. The radio must have been hit in the struggle. And he’d spent time during the last few stops trying to fix it. He stared blankly at it for several more seconds, it was completely silent.

“I heard it too,” Elias said.

“Shut up.”

Summers knocked on the radio’s case several times, until it crackled again.

“-ommander-“

Summers froze, that was definitely Pat’s voice. Seeing no point in changing strategies, he gave the radio a solid knock. It cracked, but this time, it seemed to work.

“Commander, can you hear me?”

Summers immediately keyed the mic.

“I’m here, I can hear you.”

“Commander! Are you safe? We just heard about the incident.”

“Heard about it? Did someone make it back? Is Asle okay?”

“Yes, Commander, she arrived a few hours ago. We’ve been trying to – around us – be thousands,“ the radio cut out.

“Around what? Pat?”

Summers switched the radio on and off, but nothing seemed to work. He stared at the device for several more moments before the reality of what he’d done set in. He was basically holding it together with his hands. Letting go saw a mixture of broken plastic and important looking components fall out.

And as if on cue, an explosion rang out in the distance. Summers looked up. It was coming from the same direction as the base.

“. . .Fuck.”

Elias laughed.

“Just surrender. Please. . .” His words trailed off with another bout of cackling.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

“It’s. . . it’s just funny, isn’t it? A voice in my head is telling me everyone is going to die. And you believe me. Back home, we’d be crazy. . .” His laughter trailed off. “But. . . we’re never going home, are we?”

His laughter stopped completely as the stump of his arm came into view. Then, he looked down at his legs, or lack thereof, and laughed even harder.

Summers took a long breath, before he grabbed the man by the collar, and kept walking.