Caleb watched as the army rumbled forwards, line after line of soldiers marching. "Why are they marching like that? This isn't some historical drama." No one answered, the rest too focused on the bombers overhead.

The army kept marching forward, matching steps shaking the ground. As they approached, the sealed doors of Three Cities opened. The irregular militia spilled out with weapons at the ready. At the helm sat Athena and John, the two other founders. Both charged forward with haphazard abandon, trusting the skills they honed through survival.

Caleb watched as the two barreled into the first line of soldiers. John would punch out and waves of force would shove soldiers. Athena would swing her sword and a line of wind would follow after. Behind them, all manner of power users, cultivators, and skill users followed. The group soon formed a wedge that pierced into the heart of the army.

But their momentum couldn't last forever. The soldiers had their own skills, honed through years of discipline. Shields interlaced and repelled attacks, swords would swing out in defense, and the soldiers pushed back against the charge. The ragtag militia could no longer move forwards, their charge slowed.

From there it was a slow retreat for the militia. While the soldiers would get blown away, their armor or skills kept them alive. Those blown away would stand and regroup at the back, ready to join the fray again. In return, none of the soldiers could strike deathblows on the militiamen. Swords would be blocked by enchanted armor, or healed by regenerators, or even dodged outright. But it was a battle of numbers, and the militia was getting pushed back. A few hundred warriors weren't able to stop a tide of a thousand soldiers.

Caleb needed to join them, he wasn't much good up here. "Hey, any of you got any bombs? Timed, manual, doesn't matter which. I just gotta be able to press a button."

June grunted in answer. "Backpack, left pouch."

Caleb rummaged through her pack. "What do they look like?"

"Like grenades you see in movies. Pull the pin and throw."

"Got it," He nodded, grabbing three. Holding them tightly, he strolled across the dome until the incline forced him to sit. Bracing himself, Caleb rolled himself down the dome with a cry of, "Maximum effort!"

He tumbled down and despite his best efforts, tumbled gracelessly. Elbows, knees, and toes banged against the glass dome, doing him no harm but causing his tumble to turn into more of a fall. A nasty angle flipped his body, tumbling him head over feet. His neck bent at odd angles and sometimes squished into his chest so far he felt like a turtle. Finally, he landed onto the packed ground, face first.

Caleb stood, spitting grass out of his mouth. "I don't know how cows can stomach this stuff." He commented. Gathering himself, he looked over at the battle. Without the advantage of height, all he could see were the backs of the militia and the shields of the enemy.

"Seriously, why do they have swords." He complained as he ran over. The militia had been pushed back more than before and was now in a fighting retreat towards the city. As he moved closer, Caleb saw that the swords and shields of the army were shimmering with a tan color.

When someone struck the soldiers, a ripple would appear across all of them. It was like a rock fighting a lake, impossible. Caleb ran to the right of the soldier's formation, grenades in hand. Soldiers along the line pointed, shouting insults about his mother. Some of the militia who heard the taunt charged forward in anger, bowling through a few soldiers.

Ignoring the taunts, which weren't very good anyway, Caleb passed by on the side and flanked the line. Soldiers laughed at the single man who had wheeled around them. Caleb laughed back and charged in. Swords poked at his stomach and shields tried to bash him away but neither could affect his unchanging body. Surprised, Caleb was able to dive on top of the soldiers and into their formation.

Laughing, he unpinned a grenade and held it in front of him. "Boom baby!"

The explosion ripped into the soldiers, force and shrapnel pushing against the strange shield of the army. The blast died down, exposing Caleb alone with a circle of downed soldiers around him. Groaning, they all tried to push themselves up. They weren't given the chance.

"One good deed deserves another," Caleb said as he unpinned the second grenade and dropped it at his feet. The downed soldiers didn't stand a chance as a second wave broke through the shield and into their armor. Whatever protection the soldiers had was snapped to pieces and Caleb saw the tan coloring around them dip in intensity.

A soldier flew over Caleb's head and landed beside him. Reacting, he kicked at the enemy's helmet and rang him like a bell. The sound of something landing behind him caused him to turn, only to see John punching through a soldier's shield. A wave of force emitted from his hand and the man was sent flying.

"Oh hey there John, how's life. Kids doing alright?" Caleb said as he grabbed one of the downed soldier's swords.

"The hell you doin' in the middle of all this you idiot!" John answered.

"Yeesh, not good then," Caleb said as he wielded the sword like a club and bashed a soldier and his shield back. The soldier was trying to respond but his weapon only carved patterns into Caleb's shirt.

John swiped up with a high kick, knocking three enemies into the air. He followed up with a quick jab that sent the enemies arcing into one of the bucket vehicles. "You're s'posed to leave protections like this to the militia!"

"Yeah, about that," Caleb said. "How come you charged in like an idiot anyways. We've got plenty of artillery to soften them up." Caleb tossed up his last grenade to emphasize.

John looked away, mumbling.

"What?"

"They had a skill, or power, or somethin' okay?" John fumed. "'Fore I knew it I was out here punching the daylights outta these schmucks. But it wore off so we were retreating. And then you charged in from the side and made a mess of the whole thing!"

"It's not very professional to blame your mistakes on others man," Caleb replied. "But you know it's not like I can get hurt or anything so get going, I'll catch up."

"Hailey would kill me." The man answered. "And I ain't looking to die." He grabbed at Caleb's arm and jumped up. The two shot into the air. John landed on nothing and started running, dragging Caleb behind. Shrugging, Caleb unpinned the last grenade with his teeth and tossed it out over the soldiers. The explosion signaled the start of others as the ranged militia got to work bombarding the soldiers.

In turn, the soldiers had formed up into a turtle shell formation and opened their ranks. The strange bucket vehicles drove through, treads crushing the bodies that had fallen in the earlier skirmish. The militia changed their target, focusing fire on the machines. Giant rocks, fireballs, lightning, and one explosive sheep attacked the lumbering tanks. Caleb saw the same tan protection appear, weaker this time.

Rocks clanged against metal, fire melted a few of the machine's wheels, lightning shorted one of the tank's internals, and the sheep bleated as it exploded and flipped a tank on its head. It wasn't enough to destroy all the tanks. The enemy counterattacked, a semi-circle of light launched out from the tanks and clashed with the various barriers of the city. Some couldn't hold and cracked. The light coursed through, disintegrating whatever it touched.

Screams of pain joined the explosions as the two armies fought. The soldiers of Varnoss marching behind their armored protection. The militia cast artillery after artillery, giving as good as they got. Only a few tanks were left now, but they had brought the soldiers within charging range of the city.

It was now the militia's turn to brace as Varnoss soldiers charged forward. As momentum carried them, a light formed around the soldiers, this one a mahogany red. Caleb and others charged forwards to meet them.