Wow.

That is Avalel's only thought as their transport hovers over the fortifications at the Pass of Elethien. Amidst the numerous craters caused by artillery fire, there lay an intimidating carpet of various guns, their metal blanketed with coarse, dry dust, their glowing cores like the sharp gaze of a hunter staring at his prey. Below that lay an intricate web of tunnels and bunkers, housing and arming thousands of soldiers. Around them are the many hundreds of similar transports, their troops all gathered from the vicinities of the Pass, hastily collected yet still giving off an aura of might and strength. Above them are many dozens of patrolling aircraft, their sleek bodies reminding Avalel of birds roaming in the sky. For a moment, he forgets all the sufferings the war had wrought, only fixating his gaze on the technological marvels before his eyes.

Different from the transports to Lazairu, many transports arriving at the Pass are smaller, carrying at most twenty personnel. Like an orderly horde of insects they descend, quickly dropping off their passengers before lifting up again to pick up the next batch. Leaping off their transport, the squad immediately finds themselves part of a swarm of many soldiers, rushing about in their duties. Avalel instinctively shields the Anapadeia with his left hand even though it is already hidden earlier.

“Where are we going?” Tarak shouts above the commotion.

“To bunker 8-04-072!” Rasu responds, “Follow me!”

Shoving away many of their fellow comrades, they force their way through corridors and hallways, dimly lit by hanging lights. Eventually they reach their bunker with much difficulty, the door an unappealing grey, marked with the crude scratches: 8-04-072.

“Such a bunker brings back memories, doesn't it, Bairuel?” Rasu smiles as he puts his hand on the center of the door. After a slight pause, the door glows for a moment before it swings open, welcoming the squad into the bunker.

Avalel half-expected a large room, with at least a few beds, but what lies inside is just an empty space, devoid of even the most basic of furniture. There are many bags set against the wall, which he assumes are the property of other soldiers who may also reside in the bunker. To the left is what seems to be a bathroom, but it is so small it can only fit one person at a time. Still, after the journey, they are tired, the simplicity of the bunker already enough for them as a comfortable shelter.

“Just our luck,” Rasu chuckles weakly as he sits on the ground, “This bunker is one of the emptiest I've seen. How is everyone?”

“Extremely tired,” Evi groans, “Just how many soldiers are stationed here?”

“About fifty to seventy thousand infantry alone,” Rasu replies, “With many thousands more from other branches… I think almost all of our available troops are gathered here.”

“Let’s just rest up and prepare for tomorrow,” Bairuel suggests.

“I would like to, but we are assigned to guard duty tonight per Liarul’s orders,” Rasu sighs, “We need to be at our post soon.”

“He definitely has a grudge towards us,” Kavlina mutters.

“No worries. After tonight, we are exempt from guard duty for a week.”

Avalel clutches the Anapadeia, still hidden by his side. Let's hope it's peaceful tonight.

A knock.

“Who is it?” Rasu calls out. Slowly, a soldier's face appears as the door gradually opens. Although his (or her) equipment is clean, the dents scattered on it indicates the suit had seen better days.

“Squad Rasu, is it?” the soldier speaks, a rough but womanly voice projecting from the helmet.

“Yes?”

“It’s time for you all to stand guard.”

“Already?” Evi questions, her tall figure menacing as she towers above the soldier.

“Yes,” the soldier replies without even a flinch, “It’s time for our squad to rest. Go quickly.”

For a while the two stand facing each other, the ferocious glare of Evi against the emotionless helmet of the soldier, their hands reaching towards their respective weapons. The squad can only stand by awkwardly, staring at the two, unable to even budge.

“Let’s go,” Rasu finally motions, leaping to the door, attempting to be energetic, “We can have some well-deserved rest tomorrow.”

“If we don’t have something else on our agenda, that is,” Kavlina grumbles.

Sluggishly, the squad set down their heavier equipment, bringing with them only their knives, some food, and for the two supports, Tari and Huero, who is a member of Bairuel’s team, a first-aid kit for each. They shove their supplies into a smaller bag before carrying it over their shoulders, setting out again. In the strange absence of conversation, the shuffling of their steps and the disgruntled mumbling echoes off the empty walls of the bunker.

“There are rifles and pikes at the post,” the soldier reminds them as they head out, “There will also be recharge banks for the batteries operating the guns. If you need to recharge the rifles, you will need to head to the neighboring post.”

“Thanks for the information,” Rasu cheerfully says, “Have a good rest!” Although Rasu seems to be energetic, the rest of the squad is just wishing for a good night of rest. During the day of preparation of transport to the Pass, they had endured long periods of debriefs, even skipping the night’s sleep to attend a certain “strategy session” prepared by their superiors. By the time the transport had come, it was already past midnight. In the silent hum of the transport’s engines, only then were they able to catch a little sleep. Now, with fuzzy visions and confused minds, they march to their destination, a surface gun post just poking out of the ruined, dry ground.

Climbing the narrow, creaking metal stairs, they arrive at the post. In front of them is a single gun, weapons leaning against its side. Short walls coated with energy-resistant material protect its surroundings, but without a proper ceiling, they are completely at the mercy of the elements and vulnerable to enemy fire. They can only hope the aircrafts above can protect them. To the squad, this simple and crude post, identical to the hundreds of other posts scattered across the Pass, would be their shelter for the night.

“Alright,” Rasu calls, “Here is the plan for the night: we will divide ourselves into pairs, except for a group of three, and will rotate in shifts throughout the night. One will act as the gunner, while the other as the lookout. For the group of three, there’ll be two gunners. To be honest, the lookout will have an easier job as there are many others serving the same role, but we can’t be lazy, can we?”

Quickly, the squad organizes themselves, with four pairs and a group of three being formed. Not surprisingly, Avalel, Kavlina, and Tarak are the group of three, naturally shifting towards each other.

“Why am I not surprised?” Rasu chuckles as he sees the groupings, “Anyway, would the group of three like to be the first rotation?”

“What?” Tarak complains, “Can’t we at least be on the second shift?”

“Your group has more people. It wouldn't hurt if one dozed off.” Rasu quickly gives a wink to Tarak.

“Just be glad we don't have to be interrupted in our sleep,” Kavlina says, making her way to the gun.

“We’ll leave it to you three then,” Rasu yawns as he closes his eyes, leaning against the cold wall.

As the others begin to descend into their nap, Avalel stands on a small stone platform, his head poking out of the wall. Beyond lies the battlefield, the so-called Pass of Elethien. It was probably once a major highway of transport, he notices, the bits and pieces of a once-paved road, blown, shredded in the war. Dotted across the hills, slopes, and the wasteland are hundreds of guns identical to theirs, like spikes protruding from the ground. Some of them seem to be buried, the posts almost completely covered by a thick layer of dry soil, dirt, and rocks. Searchlights shine from both the air and ground, illuminating the otherwise pitch-black night sky.

In the distance he could hear the roaring of an artillery barrage, firing bright, concentrated spheres of energy, like comets streaking across the sky before crashing down onto the earth, shaking the ground, sending half-molten bits of material flying. Then, a squadron of aircraft streak past, a brief breeze blowing against his armor as he looks up in awe. No sooner has the aircraft, barely visible with their black paint, leaves his sights, there is another explosion, yet the sound is more violent, with clear, crisp sounds of metal clashing against each other. And all is silent yet again, save for the chirping of insects scuttling across the wasteland.

“Have you never seen combat aircraft before?” Tarak asks, snapping Avalel out of his trance, “You look like you’ve just seen something from another world.”

“They’re so… frightening,” Avalel replies, “They’re probably larger than any bird, but I feel the ones just now were larger than the ones patrolling around the transports.”

“Those are bombers,” Tarak explains, “While the smaller ones we saw patrolling in the sky are fighters. I heard we’re assembling almost all of our air force here, so you’ll likely see more of them.”

“The battle… It’s going to be crucial, isn’t it?” Kavlina suddenly says.

“We won’t know until afterwards,” Tarak says, “Let’s just do our part as soldiers. I’m glad we’re just stationing this post, quite far away from the actual front.”

“It’s amazingly quiet, this night,” Kavlina notes, “Doesn’t feel like a battlefield at all.”

I hope I don't need to use the Anapadeia, Avalel thinks, grabbing the handle tightly. At least not tonight.

They sit, occasionally dozing off, only waking when a sudden gust of wind slaps their face. Strangely enough, there are no more barrages or explosions, just eerie silence. Even the whirring of aircraft above have died down, with only sparse formations of patrolling squadrons flying by every now and then. Sometimes, even the distant snores of other soldiers can be heard, like soft vibrations.

“This battlefield is huge, isn't it?” Avalel suddenly mumbles, half-asleep.

“To think there are probably over a hundred thousand soldiers for both sides combined,” Kavlina answers, “This scale… Can anyone even imagine it?”

“Says a lot for two extremely powerful factions in this war,” Tarak adds, “We are probably in the spotlight of the world right now.”

Just when can this war end?

“Somewhere up in the sky,” Tarak continues, “Somewhere up there… are the planets Erthuran and Vilrin. They must be staring at us as well.”

“The planets what?” Avalel asks. He had only barely learned about objects outside of the world and these words feel completely unfamiliar to him.

“Our neighboring planets Erthuran and Vilrin. The only other two hospitable planets in this world.”

“What?”

“You didn't know that?”

“I had never even heard of these names before.”

“They are two very beautiful, yet distinctly different planets,” Tarak explains, “A-At least that's what I heard.”

“Probably less of a mess than this planet,” Kavlina adds.

“I wish I could return there,” Tarak whispers to himself.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tarak shrugs. But I would at least like to see the serene emptiness of the Void again.

“Oh, look,” Avalel points, “A star.” Following the direction of his finger, they could see a dot of unusual brightness, even lighting up the dark surface a little.

“Shining even with the distracting brightness of the searchlights,” Tarak praises, “It’s quite a special star, isn't it?”

“No,” Kavlina disagrees, “It’s moving.” Although at first a slow, barely noticeable pace, the light seems to accelerate, if that's possible, a tail of residuals gradually forming behind it.

“So it's a comet?” Avalel asks. The whiteness, the purity, just like a snowball just thrown from someone's hand.

Suddenly, the light seems to split, with five smaller flashes of light accompanying the main one. The now six balls of light seem to grow in size, while accelerating faster and faster… as if it's falling, striking onto the surface.

Alarms begin to sound, the sirens wailing and lights flashing. Rapidly, the voices all around the battlefield begin to wake up, shouting, ordering each other. The stomping of boots quickly turns into a thunder of frantic footsteps, shaking the ground beneath them. The insects, the soldiers, even the whirring of engines are covered by a sudden onset of dread.

“What’s happening?” Avalel asks worriedly.

“Have you ever heard of a Voidal Strike?” Tarak replies, his voice shaking with fear.

Disturbed by the alarms, the squad too begins to wake up. Although initially groggy, once they take a good look at the sky, they immediately hurry for their equipment, grabbing their weapons. By now, the area is completely lit up and awake, as if night suddenly turned to day. The deafening shouts of other soldiers overflow their eardrums, as if the entire army has been rudely awakened and in panic. There is no order, only the chaotic, frantic footsteps of soldiers scrambling around.

“Where are our aircraft?” someone shouts.

“You think they can stop this abomination?” another one answers.

“Move quickly!” Rasu shouts harshly, a break from his usual self, “Get down underground! We have no time!”

Confused, Avalel stares again at the distance even as he is being shoved around by his comrades. By now the whiteness in the ball of light had completely disappeared, replaced with a fiery orange and red. The Anapadeia begins to shake, rattling, vibrating like a plucked string. He finally ducks underground, following his squad venturing deeper and deeper where hundreds of soldiers clog up the narrow hallways and stairs in a desperate attempt to escape the incoming destruction.

“Just what…”

That's when it crashes into the ground.