Jim hadn’t actually bought the idea that the rest of the residents of the City of Man were loyal enough, or at least whipped enough, to stick around. He didn't think that the natives would be find the courage and stupidity required to justify fighting a giant murder-bug, in the end. When Gen gave the signal, he turned around, expecting to see little but trees and grass and dirt and ashes. Instead, he saw easily hundreds of people emerge from the Jungle, as if they had never left. They were still armed with spears and crossbows, still organized and generally unharmed- some may have been lost in the chaos of the creature’s laser-beam, but in general, the group seemed pretty intact. He hadn’t thought they would be loyal, and he was wrong.

With them there, they had better odds. Even if they couldn’t shoot giant fireballs, they were an army and the bug had been wounded enough that might actually matter. It hadn’t taken death blows, but so far it had at least three penetrating wounds, one of its plates was ripped off, and it had been badly singed, so ‘wounded’ was an apt description. Jim had to remind himself to turn away from the new army and look back to their enemy. It was steadily moving away from them as a byproduct of the frantic roiling and writhing it did to try to put out the fire. Only dumb luck kept the poor girl unsmushed initially, but Jim would have never taken their defacto leader so close to the bug if he thought there would be immediate danger. Even still, the bug was rapidly regaining control of itself, and that meant they would have to act fast.

“You will take me to my troops,” Gen declared. The young man had hardly moved as he spoke, and Jim thought he had hallucinated the order, but the increasingly irritated glare said otherwise.

“I don’t have many more flights left.” Jim said, and that much was true- he had torn through his reserve of qi with reckless abandon, especially early in the fight. What he didn’t say that he also wanted to help get the poor girl out of danger, but he could keep that to himself.

“You will take me to my troops, and you will do it now.”

Jim suddenly felt an intense urge to take him to the Horned Men. It didn’t feel quite like the odd compulsion James wove over them all- it hummed in the back of his mind even now, a sort of unifying thread that was likely the reason why he was so certain that all the missing humans were dead or unconscious and not deserters. It wasn’t like the emotional fever-pitch Madeline’s singing sent them into, either. His body didn’t quite reject such magical control, at least not yet, but it certainly made him aware of invasive forces within his body. This was something different, and it was actually pretty familiar, a nostalgic feeling that reminded him of his time in the military- the gravitas his sergeant exerted even in peacetime. It reminded him of the way he could hardly dare to disobey or disrespect him even if rank and file wasn’t telling him he had to do so.

Without another word, he grabbed Gen by the armpits and took off. It wasn’t the most dignified way to fly ever conceived, but the boy didn’t seem to care. He just stared off at his army, and his army perked up under his gaze. Jim’s intense vision developed during the cultivation and purification of his body revealed each soldier’s movements- their backs grew straighter, they held their spears upright and crossbows tighter to their chest. Despite now losing command of the force, Ayala looked more confident and prepared, giving Jim a glimpse of her time as the great Warden of the Walled City. The flight itself was brief and as they descended, Jim could begin to feel the bloodlust welling up from the crowd. It was actually down-right admirable they had kept to ‘the Plan’ if they had been hit by Madeline and James’ impromptu concert just as hard as everyone else.

Goblins only had one leader- their Chieftain, typically- but that wasn’t to say they didn’t have an internal power structure. It would have been virtually impossible for an entirely disorganized race to compete with the upper echelons of the myriad Races, at least from what Jim had gathered. Goblins made a point to organize to squads, and that squad ate together, played together, fought together, and died together, all under the lead of a particularly smart or capable goblin. Squads would take orders from Delegates, who act as direct lines to the Chieftain. Twelve such Delegates walked to the front of the army, representing the two-thirds of the total forces that consisted of Goblins. Ayala alone stood to represent the remaining third, and to her credit, she was imposing enough to convince the excited Delegates to let her speak first. They all sort of stumbled about in the dark, letting the big woman through.

“We have held out and waited for the signal, as requested.”

Gen grunted. “Improvisation is an independent decision, taken in absence of further orders and in face of a change in plan.”

The woman raised her eyebrows, puzzled. “Was not ‘waiting for the signal’ your order?”

“Yes, but it was given before a certain intruder changed the field.”

She coughed, and the Delegates shifted uncomfortably. “Your servants were under the impression that the worm-demon was part of your plan.” She paused for a moment, and then emphasized. “Sorry, I meant the Plan.” Goblins placed great emphasis on having only one Plan at any given time, from which all other action, both dependent and independent, came. Ayala was not a big fan of the little traitors, but it wouldn’t do her any good to pick a fight by implying that her plans and Gen’s Plan were not the same thing. Besides, Gen was looking pretty intimidating at the moment, and she couldn’t read his expression well enough in the dark to see if he himself had been offended.

He nodded, nonplussed. “We will be initiating an assault now, in tandem with Horned Men troops.”

“Uh, Boss,” Jim said, emphatic. He sounded nervous, or more nervous than Gen had ever heard from him at the least.

Gen turned around and promptly saw what Jim was pointing at. The Gorgon Bug wasn't hard to see in the dark. To the contrary, the way the bug’s massive shape seemed to consume the sparse light that hit it made it dark, ominous, and easy enough to see in the dark. That same Gorgon Bug was charging towards them, and it was building up speed.

“Third and Fourth Guard to center! Spears to ground and prepare to intercept! Companies two at left flank and three at right, prepare for surprise impact!” Gen shouted, himself clearing the way as he gave out orders. The army at his back followed his orders, albeit haphazardly, stumbling about in the dark. “Remainder clear way and scatter, weapons at ready! Three paces between all soldiers!”

The large chunks of the army that hadn’t received any orders began to fan out, distancing themselves from both the evident path of the giant bug and from each-other, leaving just the densely packed formation of the two Gomen units of spearmen and the somewhat more distant flanks of Goblin crossbowmen. The Gorgon Bug drew nearer, stampede now audible, peppering them with the constant clatter of its sharp legs digging little holes into the dirt as it charged.

“Flanks fire at eyes when it gets to four hundred paces and once more at one hundred paces!”

Jim followed Gen as he ran. “What are we doing?” He asked. He hadn’t expected a real reply, but Gen gave him one. “I’m going to be using my magic.”

Jim grunted. “Yes, but why so far away? You’ve used it before, yes?”

Gen almost smiled. With his strange disposition, it looked more like a grimace, but he was at least forty percent sure it was intended to be a smile. Maybe a wry grin. “You lot made progress with your magic, yes, but you aren’t the only ones.”

“Merrilyn did something weird with her Programmers, yeah. Your gardener guy is pretty impressive too. Kat can fly faster than me, even if she can’t go as far.”

“I thought the Rebellion’s main concern would be my progress, but I suppose I was wrong,” Gen said, halting suddenly.

Jim shrugged. “Group powers don’t seem to really get any better. Ms. Madeline got a little better, but that’s mostly just her actual singing.” Then his face paled. He hadn’t even considered what Gen’s power getting an upgrade of any kind would look like. After all, if they couldn’t do it, why would the Tyrant figure it out? He looked back to the army, and then to the oncoming insect.

The spearmen in the dark were almost all tense and desperately gripping their spears at first, but suddenly their muscles relaxed. It wasn’t just one or two of them, either. Every single one relaxed. For that matter, so did the Goblins, though their crossbows didn’t lower even a smidgeon. They were unnervingly calm, as though they weren’t staring down a monstrosity in the midst of night.

The bug, for its part, was just running. Jim could see its compound eyes twitch and its head swerve ever so slightly to either direction, as though deciding where it wanted to actually make impact. Around the time it seemed to begin to veer left, it hit about four hundred paces, and Jim looked back to the army.

It was right in time to see the a few hundred bolts shriek from their grooves all at once. They were almost perfectly aligned, with the right flank’s volley gently convalescing on the bug’s left eye and with the left flank aiming for its right eye. The creature reeled, snapping its head up as soon as it saw the shots coming. It was just fast enough, but the almost uniform blows from the bolts tore through the segment of exoskeleton they struck, many of them ripping through and embedding themselves entirely. Jim tore himself away from watching the bug’s injury, desperately resisting the sudden wave of euphoria that came from seeing it injured.

The goblins were already reloading, swift yet deliberate. The little green men were more like machines, with a notion reinforced by their roughly uniform proportions. Their faces and heads could differ quite a bit, but they weren’t loading the crossbows with their heads, at least not as far as Jim could see. They were reloaded in just a short time, but even as quickly as they managed it, they were only barely ready for the second volley.

The Gorgon Bug was pissed, and it actually accelerated after the first set of shots. At one hundred paces, there were only seconds before it would hit the forces. The Goblins let loose the second volley, but this time the bug was ready. It contorted, rolling itself to the side in a strange, bowing curve that traced its way almost back to the center of the clearing, its massive body twisting to give it room to arch. Quite a few bolts still grazed it, some even digging at it, but it was nothing compared to the two gaping holes it earned from the coordinated strike of the first volley.

Its charge finally ended as it dove for the left flank like a mantis, striking from above. The Goblins dropped their Crossbows unceremoniously and in unison threw their arms into the air. Jim cringed in anticipation of their imminent deaths. During the descent, his keen eyes spotted a great number of soldiers simply toppling over. It wasn’t the left Flank, though. Instead, the bodies falling to the floor were the troops Gen told to spread out, entire swathes passing out entirely.

The Gorgon Bug made impact, and the Goblins caught it. Jim couldn’t believe his eyes, but the platoon had joined forces and stopped the insane force the bug had presented. Put plainly, it was impossible- which meant magic was involved. The left Flank squatted back in unison and heaved, chucking the Bug off to the side, and the insect bowed under the weight, losing control of its mass. The weight of the entire, carefully contorted section fell to the joint of one single segment of body, which quite notably didn’t happen to be radial. In fact, that was the entire point of the bug moving so strangely to roll at all, since at least half of its body was still jumbled up in the center of the clearing.

Jim could see the bug’s body as it tore itself apart, every little seam of biomatter losing any semblance of cohesion under the sudden strain. He could also see Gen beside him, bent over and coughing up blood.

“Holy shit,” he said, “are you okay?”

Gen flipped him off, which meant ‘yes, of course’. At least, Jim figured as much. He heaved some more and tried to say something, but through the blood and coughing, Jim couldn’t make it out. When the young man pointed at the giant bug’s head and then to his sword, it made an awful lot more sense.

“Yes, sir,” he chimed excitedly. They had actually scored a lasting blow on the huge bug, and if he got to do the honors of finishing it off, that might just make his week. Jim snatched the sword from Gen’s belt and took off, brandishing the dagger as he flew towards their foe. He probably should have helped him sit down or something before he took off, but time was limited.

The Gorgon Bug wasn’t dead. Sure, it had frozen in the initial shock, but so had Gen’s army, although that might have been from him losing control over them. Hell, Jim himself had about passed out when he realized what had just happened. Jim had recovered the fastest, but the bug was a close second. Rather than using and abusing its weight as it had been for most of the fight so far, the bug instead opted to lash out with its tentacles, rolling itself upright- right back towards the goblins that had just chucked it off. It actually seemed to move faster without the rest of its length, sweeping its way through the crowd quickly. The crystalline goo painted a number of goblins and splashed on to others and they began to petrify, almost immediately being subsumed into red crystal.

The flight was short- running on foot could hardly compare to the exceptional speed a practitioner could attain, after all. Even still, Jim was far too late to save them all. The bug was acting swiftly and decisively, the weight of its pride thoroughly shattered. The Flank scattered splitting into their respective squads in their panic. Meanwhile, the two guards Gen dispatched as the main obstacle to their enemy’s charge seemed out of sorts, shaking themselves awake. If Jim’s guess was right, they hadn’t just been ‘relaxed’ but instead ‘drained’, just to a lesser degree than the limp bodies in the back. Only a few were stirring, where most notably Ayala had already pulled herself to her feet. Which, he supposed, made sense. She was a natural mage, and from what he remembered of the General’s power, it primarily moved around mana. How he had managed the absolute focus and unison was a mystery though, so Jim couldn’t really discount the idea that something else had changed.

By the time he began his rapid descent, the Gorgon Bug was sweeping its way through the remainder of the crowd, catching as many of the scattering squads as it could with its tentacles. Wherever its mandibles and proboscis swept the statues dissolved, seemingly dissipating into thin air. In most cases, the creature didn’t even bother to wait for such contrivances, just crushing both statues and living specimens for expediency. Of the ninety-odd Goblins that made up the Flank, over half were already dead. Jim dove straight at its writhing mane.

Accelerating towards certain death is typically a terrible idea, but that wasn’t precisely the plan. His own qi fueling his descent like a jet’s engines and gravity helped him hit an intense speed, one fast enough that the flapping of his decorative robes sounded more like the buzzing of a bee’s wings. If he kept up the pace, he would have certainly crashed right into it. Instead, he cut the ‘thrust’, reversing it. As quickly as he could, he let go of the hilt and pommel of Gen’s dagger and it flew from his grip like an arrow, but Jim could hardly find the time to care. The forces enacted of his body at that moment, of slamming on the breaks and practically stopping instantly, tore at his skin and jarred his organs, shaking his well so thoroughly. He let out a scream that he hoped sounded more like a war cry. The agonizing process of the stop drained his sea of energy at an astonishing pace, and by the time he began to fly backwards, it was finally empty.

Jim flew in a huge arc backwards, tumbling through the air and hitting the ground hard, body rolling on the ground something like twenty feet before the loving embrace of friction gave him sweet relief. His body was battered and exhausted, although he suspected he wasn’t too far worse off than your average person. He shoved hard, forcing himself off of his stomach and onto his hands and knees, then looked over to see the outcome of his missile strike.

A number of tendrils writhed on the ground, severed from the Gorgon Bug’s mane but still moving, lashing out randomly in any given direction. The bug itself retreated at an astonishing pace, already at least a few hundred feet away from the place where it was attacked by the time Jim got his bearings. It was looking over at him intently, and he could feel the killing intent in its eyes. The feeling was mutual, to say the least.

It swerved, skittering at speed towards him in a strange zig-zag. The right Flank finally fired their next volley, but with none of the precision or unity they had under Gen’s control. Only the smartest of the bunch took the time to aim ahead the way they would normally. Bolts whizzed through the dark, but even the few that hit did little more than smash pointlessly against the exoskeleton, little sparks lighting up the night for just moments. The Gomen guard were finally mobilized, Ayala leading them in a desperate charge towards him, but they wouldn’t be fast enough to make a difference. Jim was well and truly fucked- or so he thought.

An ungodly crack tore apart the quiet night. One area that guns lost to crossbows was their relative noise generation, especially if you addressed the primitive weaponry of the 20th century. Something like a hundred bullets whizzed through the air, some uncomfortably close to Jim himself.

The Gorgon Bug’s swerving proved useful, allowing it to evade a good chunk of the surprise gunshots, but even still the ones that hit were devastating. The more penetrating wounds it got and the more opportunities the army had to make new ones, the more damage accumulated. Individual shots struck home, one hitting the softer bits of thorax exposed by Jim’s recent dagger strike, more than a few striking the fleshy segment exposed by Gen’s earlier crowbar job. These things alone wouldn’t have stopped the bug’s determined charge, that much was true. What did stop it was either the product of an especially talented sharpshooter or the luckiest shot of the evening- a bullet straight to the creature’s eye. It bounced around after puncturing the thick protective membrane, going a long way to tearing its way through the cavity itself.

The Gorgon Bug careened. When it got hit, the sudden pain caught it off-guard, and like a derailed train, it simply lost balance. The stutter was enough to tip it over, huge insect sliding uncomfortably close Jim as it passed by, lying on its side. Jim hadn’t even realized he was cringing, relaxing his jaw, and he tried to scramble to his feet, limping away from the bug. It was limp at the moment but not dead. It was agonizing to move at all, and he made slow progress, just hoping to get a good distance on the creature before it stirred.

Something else pushed him into action, though. Green light suddenly began to emanate from the dark in the segment of Jungle he was running towards, and his sensitive eyes revealed what remained of the troop of Horned Men, with the ‘gunners’ leveling their arms in his direction, strange tattoos alight in ethereal flame. Not his direction, precisely, but that of the bug. In either case, Jim had no plans of being grilled after surviving all the shit he had so far, so he leveraged what little physical strength he had in him, sprinting off to the side at top speed. Red orbs of flame soared through the area he had just been, striking the still downed bug and the landscape around it. He made a mental note to complain about their aim if he had the good fortune to survive the night, flopping back to the ground, exhausted.

The Gorgon Bug writhed, desperately resisting the flames, but it grew weaker and weaker with every moment that passed. Its insides were in total disrepair, and with this final blast, even the most durable of its organs were starting to fry. Eventually, the bug was totally limp, an immobile beacon of flame in the midst of the warzone. Jim just lay there, watching it burn, warmed ever so slightly by the distant heat.

He could hear the Gomen arrive first, no longer at a sprint, but more of a casual gait. They passed him by, only Ayala stopping to bother with him. The rest simply gathered around the flame, basking in it. Some even sat down, just watching the fire. Little by little, more people arrived. The humans who were on the near side of the clearing came first, but after a while, the Gorgon Bug had become less of a dead enemy and more of an impromptu bonfire. People gathered, accounting for losses and talking about the fight, gloating over who helped kill it the most. Apparently, the one to land the shot on its eye was actually part of the small party Gen had ordered to escort Kat, one of his rebels. Jim basked in a little bit of pride at that- of course one of his men would be the sharpshooter that saved his life. Well, they were James’ charge, but who cared.

Eventually, even the Horned Men came out, walking past Jim and Ayala just as the Gomen forces had. They hardly seemed to remember the fact that the lot of them were adversaries only a short while before, paying no attention to safety or precautions. The leader of their troop even introduced himself to Jim, one ‘Krella’. He complimented his bravery in the fight, emphasizing the nobility of Jim’s willingness to sacrifice it all to win the day. Krella left with a brief but polite bow, heading off out of sight.

Gen had actually got his bearings. Jim wished he could see how the young man looked, as covered in blood and sick as he probably was. He could only guess whether or not he would try to maintain that dignified, stoic look he had assumed during the fight. To his surprise, Krella and Gen addressed each-other by name. Or, rather, Gen just addressed him as ‘Krella’, while the big man greeted Gen as ‘General of the City of Man’ quite formally. They chatted briefly, commending each-other on their contributions to the fight, though the tone quickly got more serious by the sentence.

“We have much to discuss,” Gen said. It wasn’t quite a whisper, but he at least stopped projecting his voice so much. If Jim’s hearing was so potent, he might have missed it.

“Indeed.” Krella grunted. “I am willing to agree to equal peace in exchange for information.”

“Your party was clearly losing. Why would I want equal peace?”

Krella was indignant. “Do you not have any sympathy for those you fight with?”

Gen was jovial. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Our side will have some…” He paused, uncertain. “Problems. We will have some problems when we get home. I’d be happy to simply end the bloodshed, especially if you can tell me more about this world of ours.”

“Likewise. We will need a place to stay, given that this ruckus has likely attracted all sorts of attention, and I am quite curious to learn some things from you, myself.”

Jim could almost feel the pressure from Gen’s gaze, even if it wasn’t directed at himself. There was a weight to it, and though it wasn’t furious, it was ferocious. “I do hope you will not ask us for our weaponry,” he said, voice steely.

This time, Krella was the one laughing. “Hardly. I am curious of other things, and I will guarantee that I will not pass it to those who hunt you.”

There was a pause.

“I do believe you’ve already hit on some information I need to know. How long do we have?”

Krella grunted. “I can only guess.”

“Shortest possible time, please,” Gen said. “There can’t have been other parties coming yet, right?”

“I am not so certain. The moment the teleportation platform was destroyed our people no doubt initiated recovery protocols. The rescue parties may be coming even now.”

Gen sighed. “How large is a rescue party, then, and when would they be here, if no one else?”

“No less than seven days.” Krella concluded. “Travel between planes can be quite tempestuous, but eight days is a fair minimum. If they mobilize a quarter of our forces, you may expect to see two-thousand troops. We were expecting to have time to teleport in at least a few hundred, but I doubt they will take that risk.”

Jim could hear Gen shifting uncomfortably, no doubt doing the math in his head. Jim was no strategist himself, but that sounded pretty damn dire. The young man simply stood there, but no response came, no more words exchanged. Eventually, the two of them walked back into his view, joining the rest of the survivors as they basked in the bonfire's glow.

The two tattered armies left for the City of Man as day broke.