Kaz’uk was walking in the middle of their army, or what was left of it. He was tired. Bul’rak was walking to his right, his trophy proudly hanging to the right of his hip, dangling with its blood dried to its many eyes. It looked disgusting, but it was a fierce opponent, it had killed many before his brethren surrounded it and slowly whittle it down. Kaz’uk glared at Bul’rak, he hated him, he would do anything to kill him. He had stolen from him; he had taken what was rightfully his; it was Kaz’uks trophy; it was his kill. But Bal’ruk was bigger, he had sharper claws, and a bigger standing amongst the remaining army. One of my missing eyes was a firm reminder of that fact. Bal’ruk, the killer of aliens. More like stealer of trophies. The others might say that Bal’ruk had rightful claims on the trophy, rightful claims to the breeding pits. The others would claim that Bal’ruk had challenged Kaz’’uk in a fair fight, fought for the price of the trophies head. But Kaz’uk didn’t think so. No, Bal’ruk was a coward, not worthy. Bal’ruk had waited, waited while the rest of us had ran, gored and melted brethren falling all around us, we had ran to the fullest, fought with claws once our guns couldn’t penetrate their magic shields. But Bul’rak had just stayed behind, he was a coward, only coming forwards once Kaz’uk, the mighty, had done the finishing blow, penetrating the foul alien's head with a precise claw. Kaz’uk glared angrily at Bal’ruk, inturn being noticed by him, who merely looked down at Kaz’uk with glee, his claws caressing the top of the trophies head. Oh, how Kaz’uk wanted him dead. But he couldn’t just kill him, no, not if he wanted to be forever remembered as a coward, a pride breaker. Killing anyone who had “earned” a trophy is lower than the lowest, and they deserve a death worse than torture. Kaz’uk looked up, staring at the distant ship, their ship, the same ship that were supposed to take them to that mountain fortress. But one of those magic aliens had shot them down, using their melty guns to puncture a massive hole. Luckily for them, the location of the impact had calculated, their ship’s magical navigation system had giving them a warning, a warning that they dutifully obeyed and slung themselves to the planets mercy. Many perished, but many lived, enough to wipe out the dreaded magical enemies. Kaz’uk glanced around, looking for those that had got their hands on trophies. There wasn’t many, but they walked proudly, their backs bent and claws sharpened. They looked around with feral glee, for they knew what their trophies ment, and they could not wait for the day they could come home. Kaz’uk was envious, and so angry. He looked at the ship again and hoped. Hoped that Bal’ruk would die from the cold, from hunger, from anything. He prayed to the all mighty forefathers, oh please, give me a sign, kill those that have wronged me. And then there was light, light in the dim darkness. It came blinding and flashing, following it quickly with a roar more devastating than even the magic fire of the magic aliens. Screams started echoing out from the front, Kaz’uk froze on the spot, not knowing what was happening. He looked up, partially blinded by the flashing lights in the distance. One fast and frightening, the other slower, more meticulous. Then it dawned on Kaz’uk, and he looked around himself in a frenzy, searching for cover, for anything to hide behind. Quickly, he noticed a hole, not to big, but big enough for him. He darted for it, but was too slow, someone else had already bunkered up. Kaz’uk cursed his bad luck, then heard a noise above the freighting screams of his brethren and the thundering roar in the distance. “ATTACK ATTACK!” Our leader screamed, voice booming and clear. Then he suddenly fell over, his right chest gushing blood. The surrounding looked chaotic, some listened to the leaders’ word and started running, using their massive legs to sprint towards the incoming fire. Some stood around, looking dazed and confused, other were hiding behind the small rocks and crevices scattered around. Kaz’uk was amongst those that just stood there, and quickly clawed at the side of his leg, the pain bringing clarity, and with clarity he remembered his weapon. He raised it high up, a small gun, no bigger than the clawed hand that held it, just as little ammo. But Kaz’uk didn’t fear not having enough ammo, there were plenty of ammo to find amongst the dead. No, Kaz’uk feared being weak, he feared not firing a single shot at the terrifying enemy. And shoot he did, the first of his brethren. Moments later, the surrounding realised it too, aiming their own guns and firing at the distant alien ship, bullets splattering helplessly at it like rain on a rock. The aliens that were running, fell like insects under a clawed hand, doing their best to shoot while running, trying to use their speed as an advantage., trying to get to the enemy before they got to them. While Kaz’uk shoot away at the distant enemies, he decided to jog forward, glancing around for any kind of cover, any cover that wasn’t already occupied. The bullets had subsided around Kaz’uk, the biggest amount hitting those that were running towards them. But he quickly realised that those behind, those who used cover while shooting, were getting killed faster than those running. Kaz’uk pondered that as he ran, and quickly realised that the light that flashed less, would claim one if not two victims with every flash. Even cover wouldn’t save them from a well-placed bullet in their head. Kaz’uk ran instead, pinning his hope on blending into the masses, being one of many. They were bombarding the enemy, but their rain of death didn’t subside. No, it felt like it was increasing in volume, in intensity, as if the threat of death merely made them more angry, more ferocious. Kaz’uk felt fear, he felt a sense of dread; he felt so helpless, defenseless. He heard thump to his right, whipping his head to see, he noted one of his brethren tumbling forward, head popped like a fresh fruit, pieces of white stuck to it. Kaz’uk dived to his left, using a dead body too try to shield him from the incoming fire. He stayed there for a moment, pressing his head firmly into the dirt, his skin oiling up, mind reeling from the fear. The moment passed, and he quickly whipped his body on top of the dead body, aiming his gun and firing. His bullets coming out like wet fish compared to the enemies. He did his best to aim, but he was shaking too much, his firing felt wild and useless. Then his gun suddenly stopped, he tried shooting, tried firing, but no bullets came. He slowly realised that he was out of bullets and started searching the dead body for its gun. As he did that, one of his brethren fell on his right. He guessed another one dead, but as he felt a tug on his shoulder, he turned around to look, and to his surprise, seeing Bal’ruk. “What the fuck is going on!?” Kaz’uk stared with three wide eyes, uncomprehending and a little terrified. But he shook himself out of it, screaming back as he found the dead bodies gun. “I have no idea, the enemy is on top of our ship.” Bal’ruk looked up, his own eyes large and bulging, his claws tremoring around his gun. Kaz’uk felt his fear subside somewhat, as his mind realised that Bal’ruk was scared, and Kaz’uk wouldn’t be like Bal’ruk, he wasn’t like Bal’ruk. He would be strong, stronger than anyone here. He wasn’t weak like Bal’ruk. As he looked at Bal’ruk and pondered, he heard an explosion, lighting up the surrounding in a bright yellow light. Bal’ruk fell face first into the ground, screaming like a baby. Kaz’uk peeked above the dead body, seeing the yellow light slowly subside, an explosion that was very close to the alien ship, and within the explosions radius, lay many dead. Gored and maimed, nothing left but rotten bodies for the forefathers to feast on. Kaz’uk glanced around the bottom of the ship, noting that many of his brethren had gotten close to the ship, almost just underneath it. He even spotted on or two running their way inside the massive hole. Kaz’uk rose to his feet, tensing his muscles to go into a sprint. But he felt a tug on his arm, and as he looked down, he saw Bal’ruk looking up at him with weak eyes. “What are you doing!?” Bal’ruk yelled, but Kaz’uk merely tore his arm away, jumping off into a four run sprint, firmly holding the dead brethren's gun. Two more explosions rang out, covering the side of the ship with dirt, blood and body parts. Kaz’uk breathed harder, the bullets raining down still claiming lives like a reaper out for their harvest. Then it stopped, the lesser flashing light still fired, but the brighter one stopped. Kaz’uk didn’t stop to think about it, continuing his run at full sprint. Mere second later it fired up again, less bright and not as fast, but still firing. Kaz’uk neared the ship, bodies littering everywhere, brethren fallen to never get back up, some merely hiding amongst the dead. Kaz’uk ignored them, weak as they were. He darted between those hidden and firing behind rocks, sprinting like his life depended on it, darting until he was safely by the ship. He practically crashed into it, pain showering his mind frmo the impact, but he, for the moment, felt safe. Somewhere above were the enemy, but they wouldn’t shoot down here, no way. He glanced around, seeing many aiming their guns upwards, shooting, in a vain attempt to hit them. Kaz’uk cursed their stupidity and headed into the hole of the ship, his gun held high. Inside, he noted that it was filled with brethren, thirty from what he could tell. They were all gathered together, staring up at a dark stairway. Kaz’uk walked up to the gathered brethren, keeping a big distance to avoid getting killed by a stray boom-blaster. And then yelled. “What is going on?” Many in the group turned around to look at Kaz’uk, but only one answered. “The way up is blocked” Kaz’uk looked at the talking brethren, his body reeling back as he remembered who he was. One of the few with a trophy, and not one, but two. This brethren was not like Bal’ruk, instead he had earned them through strength of arms, being one, if not the, only brethren Kaz’uk feels has earned his respect, even if he doesn’t know his name. Kaz’uk spoke up, letting as much respect in his voice be heard as possible. “Why hasn’t it been cleared yet? Our brethren is dying outside.” The noise of the alien guns was clear from above, although muffled by the ship, but the screams from outside were loud and clear. The respected brethren looked down at Kaz’uk, almost an entire head longer, claws as big as two from Kaz’uk. The respected brethren narrowed his four eyes, long healed scars crossing his face, looking down at Kaz’uk with hate in his eyes. Kaz’uk had to take another step back, confused and scared by the sudden hostility. “They can die for all I care, they are weak.” He then turned around, looking at the dark stairway, sounds of claws against metal ringing out, then spoke again. “They are trying to dig it out, but it's harder than it looks.” Kaz’uk peeked around the respected brethren, noticing for the first time that the darkness wasn’t dark, it was black metal, and in front stood several brethren, clawing at it in vain. Kaz’uk looked back at the respected brethren and asked. “Why doesn't we use boom-blaster to destroy it?” He said, then noticed that the sounds of the alien’s shooting had dimmed somewhat. The respected brethren narrowed his eyes even further, but his expression turned thoughtful. “That could work, if we had any. Those metal-walkers would be impossible to kill otherwise.” Kaz’uk nodded, then a smile spread on his face as he calmly brought out two boom-blasters, scavenged from dead aliens, those small once with two legs and weirdly small mouths. The respected brethren shone with delight, then snatched the boom-blasters from Kaz’uk, asking. “Where did you get these?” Kaz’uk responded with a faint, self-satisfied smile. “Let’s just say that the dead are ripe for picking.” The respected brethren smiled back, then quickly made his way towards the black metal blocking the stairway, yelling at the others to get back. As he came up to the black metal, the others made a tight circle around him. He then, gently, placed down one of the boom-blaster, then triggered it, skittering away without warning the others. Most noticed what he had placed, running for cover themselves, but one to two was too stupid to notice, and got literally blown to shreds. Kaz’uk peeked up from clawed hands that were protecting his face, his body hunkered down behind some cover, seeing that a hole had emerged from the black metal, but not big enough to crawl through. The respected brethren cursed, walking back to the black metal and placing the last boom-blaster. Gore squishing beneath his feet. The others were far away this time, already knowing what he was about to do. But as bent down to place the boom-blaster, he peeked through the hole, looking up at the dim staircase, leading directly up to the aliens at the top. And his head imploded as a bullet shattered the inside of his head. The blood painting the boom-blaster and the wall in front of him with blood. Kaz’uk heard a scream, or yell, foreign and unknown, presumably the aliens talking. He shook the thoughts away as his brethren's scuttled towards the respected brethren's dead body, clawing at each other to grab the trophies from his hip. Kaz’uk shook his head, disbelieving. Then felt a tug on his shoulder and heard Bal’ruks voice. “Why haven’t you killed them yet?” Kaz’uk glanced back, seeing Bal’ruks terrified face, weak and useless. Then a thought clawed its way into his head, and Kaz’uk couldn’t help but smile sadistically. “Well, no one here knows how a boom-blaster works. Wouldn’t you, the great Bal’ruk, killer of aliens, help us weaklings and operate one?” Bal’ruk stared at the back of Kaz’uks head, then asked. “What boom-blaster” And Kaz’uk was happy that Bal’ruk couldn’t see his face, for he was smiling very happily. “Oh, it's by those scavenging brethren, if you blow up the thing blocking the staircase, we’ll be able to storm the aliens at the top.” Bal’ruk stood silent, listening intently to his words, then asked with a hint of hesitation in his voice. He hadn’t survived for this long and stolen Kaz’uks kill without being a weak coward, ready to hide behind others. “What happened to that dead brother?” Kaz’uk stared at the dead body, feeling a tinge of guilt as he was about to besmirch the great brethren's name, but he had too, at least to get his revenge. “He was stupid and died from the first blast. The second boom-blast is already in place, it's just that no one knows how to trigger it..” Bal’ruk eyed the back of Kaz’uk, but took only a moment to think, leaning forward as he bellowed out with pride filled in his voice. “Move out of the way, Move! The great Bal’ruk comes to bring death to our enemies.” Kaz’uk smiled, staring longingly at Bal’ruk as he moved forward, the rest making room for him. Kaz’uk then heard the scratching of claws behind him, glancing back he saw that more brethren had joined him inside the ship, making it more stuffy and practically filled. But the aliens' guns had grown silent, only shooting once in a while, whilst the brethren's guns were loud, but very distant, as if they had run even further away. His thoughts were not for long, as Bal’ruks booming voice shouted out. “MOVE MOVE! Get out of the way.” And Kaz’uk stared mildly alarmed at him, surprise and confusion clear on his face. When had he armed the boom-blaster, how had he not been shot, why is he alive? Then the boom-blaster blew, and Kaz’uk was thrown back on his rump, a burst of pain traveling from the stem of his tail to the top of his neck. Shaking himself from thought, Kaz’uk looked up, seeing a peppered stairway, cleared of debris. There was a window of silence where everyone was staring, no one moving, not until Bal’ruk shouted out. “Attack! Kill those blasted aliens!” And Bal’ruk filled the room with activity, everyone swarming to clamper up the stairs. Kaz’uk stayed behind, waiting for the fateful first shots, for the first deaths. Then he saw a boom-blaster trickled down the stairs, and blew up, splattering him and everyone with blood and gore. The blast had been muted, not as strong, but considering how many had been blasted to pieces, it didn’t surprise Kaz’uk. The blast rocked the gathered brethren, halting them in their steps. Kaz’uk waited for another boom-blaster, feeling claws scraping from somewhere behind, but if it was brethren running or coming, Kaz’uk didn’t care. And as the seconds ticked by, and no more boom-blaster came. The gathered inched closer to the stairway, keeping their eyes and ears wide opened, ready to pounce at anything. When the first brethren came to the bottom of the stairs, he peeked around and quickly ducked back behind as bullets tore through the air, leaving marks in the ground. The shooting stopped quickly after, leaving the alien ship oddly quiet. The brethren at the front started arguing, pushing at each other, not wanting to be the first running. Then Bal’ruk moved up, well away from the stairs but close enough to make everyone near turn towards him. “Take up position on either side of the stairway, we’ll blast the fuckers into high hell, then we move up” The surrounding brethren hesitated, but with a few more yells and more pushing, a few brave one rushed past the stairway, over to the other side. One unlucky got his leg split open, crying out in pain as he writhed around. The others looked at each other, then aimed their weapons around the corner, shooting blindly. The ship went ear-splittingly loud, pellets dropping on the ground like dust in a storm, flashes of bright light illuminating the faces and bodies of the gathered brethren. As the firing continued, the aliens own guns went silent, and a few brave brethren moved up. Moving their way up the stairs, Kaz’uk moved up himself, shoulder to shoulder to his fellow brethren, all gathered to run up the stairs, far too many clumped up in Kaz’uk opinion. But he didn’t voice it; he just wanted to get up there; The atmosphere was filled with bloodlust, the kill ripe for picking. They were so close, instincts taking over, the screams and yells and fears and dread and everything piling up, emotions wrecked with instincts, everyone went along as they did their best to get to their prey., to get a trophy. Kaz’uk even noticed that Bal’ruk had been swept up in the wave of emotions, pulling and pushing everyone aside to get up the stairs. When Kaz’uk got to the bottom of the stairs, while getting pushed from all sides, he heard the alien guns again, a brief sense of fear, then nothing as he noted that nothing was firing down the stairway. Their own guns shooting above the heads of the running brethren. Then he was suddenly on top, out of the staircase, out in the dark open air again. The first thing he noticed was bodies on top of bodies, piled up like a small hill. Kaz’uk immediately knew what it meant and dove to his left, using the bodies as cover. Looking back at the entrance of the stairway, he noted that most that came out were immediately shot down, head or bodies blowing into pieces. Some, like Kaz’uk, would immediately dive for cover, only surviving on their luck. Kaz’uk crawled to the left of the pile, peeking his head out to look at the dreaded aliens. And he saw two, only two aliens. One bleeding out of his arm, pushing his back against the railing, using it as leverage to hold its rifle against its own legs. The aliens were big, bigger than any of his brethren, maybe even twice their size. These two walking aliens may look weak, their flesh squishy and soft, hair in bad places. But he knew better than to underestimate them; They were somehow both weaker and stronger than any enemy on this entire planet. And these two were the perfect example on the strong part. Kaz’uk looked at the other one, using a makeshift pile of debris as cover while firing at the closing brethren, mowing them down like slaughtering cattle. Kaz’uk didn’t wait any longer, pulling up his gun to aim at the wounded alien. But when he pulled it out, he was met with immediate counter-fire, feeling a burning sensation run from his right cheek and the force pulling him back, making him duck for cover again. He pushed a clawed hand to his face, feeling blood trickle down, not flowing, a good sign he thought. And then immediately felt fear. Who had shot me, how did they see me? He glanced back at the stairway entrance, the pile of bodies even bigger, more covering behind it, more shooting, getting shot, blood flowing like a river. “CHARGE, KILL THEM!” Bal’ruk bellowed out, running up and diving for cover, coercing his fellow brethren to attack. And he actually managed too, most jumping out from cover, hoping that their numbers would be enough, brethren still streaming out from the stairway entrance. Kaz’uks eyes went red, he didn’t know if it was getting shot, if it was the fear, if it was his insticts, but Kaz’uk just wanted too punish Bal’ruk. Kaz’uk ran up to Bal’ruk, pulling at his shoulder as he pushed him up and out of cover. Bal’ruk looked like prey out in the open, eyes wide and staring down at Kaz’uk in fear. Kaz’uk used this momentary fear to his advantage, pushing at the momentarily weakened Bal’ruk, using his body as a moving cover. The two ran up from the right side of the pile of dead bodies, brethren falling in front of them, collapsing from quick deaths, shooting wildly themselves, missing almost entirely. Bal’ruk started pushing against Kaz’uk, his clawed feet drawing long marks in the ground, his voice squeaky and weak, flailing his arms around in a vain attempt at escaping reality. Kaz’uk felt deep satisfaction from this, but grew tired, as Bal’ruk was heavy. “SAVE ME! SAVE ME!” Bal’ruk screamed, Kaz’uk merely pushing harder, his surroundings blurring and going out of focus. Then Kaz’uk felt something heavy impact Bal’ruk, and then Bal’ruks entire weight fell back on Kaz’uk. Kaz’uk let Bal’ruk drop, seeing a hole in his chest, confirming his death, and Kaz’uk smiled. When he looked up, he met the eyes of the wounded alien, rifle aimed down directly at him, and time froze. For Kaz’uk, it felt like an eternity, waiting for death. But the shot never came, and the alien looked down, shouting some inherent gibberish. But Kaz’uk didn’t hesitate, he knew he had just been blessed by the forefathers; they had chosen him for this moment. He sprung into action, falling down on four legs as he squeezed any bit of power he had left, pushing of into a sprint. Kaz’uk quickly closed the distance, and the alien threw its gun at Kaz’uk in an vein attempt to stop him. Kaz’uk rolled to the side, avoiding the gun, then sprung into a jump, a mere bodies length away from the alien. But the alien was a sly one, as it had drawn a black blade from somewhere Kaz’uk hadn’t seen. And his clawed hand was punctured by the black blade. Pain and anger shot up from his hand to his brain, and he swung his other arm, going halfway through the alien's neck. It opened its eyes wide and clawed for its neck, falling back on the railing. Then Kaz’uk fell forward, breathing heavily, bleeding from his face, hand and the small splinter from the previous boom-blasters. He breathed out from the exhaustion, from being so tired. He breathed out for he had once again, defied destiny, and gotten himself the favor of his forefathers, for this shall be his second trophy. Then his view suddenly shifted, and he saw his body falling backwards, missing a head. Then he saw the second alien, holding a black blade of his own, bloodied from Kaz’uk, any his brethren's blood. And then he didn’t see no more.