I face plant hard into the snow, the Fortress spell saving me from several broken bones. I can still hear James crossing blades with his opponent while Buddy whines as he gets the shit kicked out of him. Fortress dissipates and my body splays outward, all the accumulated tension released at once. The constant bark of gunfire from the enemy Gunslingers gets steadily closer and I close my eyes, expecting to get riddled with holes at any moment.

But nothing happens. No one's shooting at me.

An earsplitting scream erupts across the battlefield, causing me to turn over to get a better look. James's opponent had made a two handed swing using the machete, slicing open a wound on James's shoulder. But that move left the enemy Warrior over extended and before he could regain his balance, letting James's sword hack off an arm in return. As James kicks aside the fresh, gory corpse the Gunslingers blast away enthusiastically at him.

James hurriedly backpedals, raising his sword to block the incoming bullets. There's a shower of sparks as a number of slugs ricochet off the flat of his weapon, but the bulk of the volley punches through James's defense. James is sent staggering, his enhanced toughness weathering the wounds cratering his body. He's still caught in a crossfire though, and there's only so much anyone can take before they're torn apart.

Getting to my knees, I notice that my crash landing had placed me close to the abandoned life support capsule. Scooting up to the bit of makeshift cover, I raise my casting focus, eyeballing the already wounded Gunslinger.

"Let's see how you like another dose." I grunt, letting fly with Soul Fire again. My target takes getting set on fire no better the second time, his entire body immolating like an out of control barbeque. The Gunslinger drops his weapon and runs about like a headless chicken, overwhelmed by the excruciating pain of being burned alive. Love does the rest, a tight grouping of shots putting down the now defenseless Gunslinger for good.

"Shit!" I blurt out in surprise, as the last enemy Warrior abruptly gets his head blown off before he can finish off Buddy. The wounded fox sprints back to the trench, where I see a bloodied Carol barely holding on to her rifle, with Sam supporting her.

"What? How?" I shake my head in disbelief. The sniper scored a solid hit on Sam. There's no way he should be still up and about. My eyes take a moment to adjust, and I notice something possibly crucial.

Sam's halo has diminished. It has shrunk by almost half.

Before I can take notes of this strangeness, Carol pushes Sam back down into the trench against the crack of the sniper rifle in the background. Carol might be hurt, but her reflexes are up to snuff. If anything, she's still slightly faster than the enemy leader. Just barely a touch, but enough to make it difficult for the sniper to corner Carol without an encore of those tag team tactics employed earlier on.

Just as things seem to be turning a corner, James takes a face full of Soul Fire from the remaining Sorcerer. The final Gunslinger darts to the side, looking to flank my position. Its then I realize why no one has shot at me so far. The ambushers don't want to risk damaging the capsule. They need to get me flanked for a clear shot.

Holstering my weapons, I raise the capsule up , my arms shaking from the effort. I then turn around and hunch over, letting the capsule drop on to my back. I then begin dragging the capsule along with me, turning it into an impromptu tortoise shell. I see the Gunslinger about to cut me off and I do a sharp turn in response, presenting the capsule to him. My enemy abruptly jerks his weapon upward, aborting the attack. Sweat drips down my face as I allow myself a tired grin. Feels nice to have guessed correctly.

"Hurry!" Sam shouts from the trench, revolver blasting away at my pursuer. The Gunslinger performs a series of evasive backflips, moving so quickly that it causes afterimages. I redouble my pace, hoping to take advantage of the distraction caused by Sam, but that Gunslinger is having none of it. His gun tracks me expertly, and a finger flicks the weapon's fire selector. A single shot to avoid damaging the package, rather than a long burst.

A meaty smack thumps into my upper arm, throwing me to the side. With one of my arms completely numb to the pain, I lose my grip on the capsule, letting it fall back on to the ground. My mind distantly informs me that none of what's happening right now is remotely healthy for whomever is inside the capsule. I would care slightly more, if only I wasn't too busy staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Get going!" James yells as he lunges forward, slashing at the Gunslinger. But a Warrior's reflexes can't match a class focused on speed, and the Gunslinger performs a somersault over James's head, evading the attack. In the distance, I see the Sorcerer falling back as Buddy chases after him with slavering jaws.

We can do this. We're already pulling through. Just three enemies left. Three of them against five of us. I break into a shambling run, moving toward the trench.

The sniper takes a knee again, and there's that red glow building inside the barrel of his rifle. But this time the rifle's aimed straight at me. My breath catches and an oppressive weight crushes my chest.

The world slows to a crawl and in this suspended moment, one could experience eternity.

........

You won't make it in time.

Don't tell me that.

You know what to do. How to survive this.

No. My heart can't be serious.

The visions do not lie.

"Damnit." I mutter, coming to a stop and drawing the knife with my good arm.

Death comes for you. Can you feel it?

The weight, the weight on my chest. Its building, crushing, grinding into me. All of my senses are telling me one thing. I'm going to die. But there's also exquisite pleasure mixed into the pain. Sweet, near irresistible. My body wants this, welcomes it even. I want to scream at the absurdity of it all, but instead a sensuous moan escapes my lips.

Destrudo.

The death urge. The fundamental desire at the core of every living thing to end itself when the time comes.

And your time has already come and gone. You live when you are not meant to.

Each snowflake falls with the force of an avalanche as it hits my shoulders. My knees nearly buckle, demanding that I submit to the inevitable. Death comes for all things. Therefore to welcome death is the most natural thing in the universe.

The well of your potential has almost run dry. And without a well, a field cannot survive for long.

But I don't want to die.

So fight for your place, Alex Mann. Refill your well. Water your field. Bloom once more and perhaps you may just survive.

Refill my well? Does that mean -

Nature abhors a vacuum. Remember that.

"Who are you?" I whisper softly as the cold wind begins to howl in my ear again. Our time together is almost up.

The last drop of your potential. Which saw what awaits over the event horizon.

And that is?

Our salvation.

...........

I exhale, and time begins to move again. The sniper rifle's barrel blooms with fire, expelling the crimson bullet of death straight at me. I grip the knife tightly, knowing that it stands between me and certain death.

And as I told the voice of my heart, I'm not ready to lay down and die just yet.

My arm winds up on its own accord, instincts taking over. A single moment of invincibility. That is my only hope. The delicious pain continues to build, spreading all over my body. And at the moment of climax, I lash out with the knife with all my might.

The blade makes contact with an inexorable force and my arm's almost broken thanks to the ferocious amount of feedback being absorbed. I wring out every last bit of strength from my sinews and push against the encroaching force. My muscles feel like they're about to tear themselves apart from the effort. The dueling crimson bullet and knife are locked together, neither being able to make way against the other.

And then I feel something give, like a dam bursting.

My arm swings outward, deflecting the bullet and swatting it toward a nearby tree, long petrified and leafless thanks to the never ending winter. The bullet stabs into the tree and the entire trunk shatters, showering the snow with splinters. As the tree topples over with a crash, both the sniper and I stare at each other in silence. A trail of smoke rises from the blade of my knife, its surface red hot from that parry. The sniper's pet rat scampers into the folds of his clothes, eyeing the fallen tree with naked fear. No class skills were used in my parry. It should have been impossible to accomplish.

And the visions had been proven correct again.

"Git gud, scrub." I say to the sniper.

"Heh." a small chuckle from my opponent.

The roar from Carol's gun spoils the moment as she takes out the fleeing Sorcerer. The sniper gets back to his feet and whistles loudly. At this signal, the Gunslinger disengages from James before joining his leader in retreating from the scene. Their enhanced speed proves its worth as it takes mere seconds for the pair to disappear into the snowstorm.

The battle's over.