The light from the sun shines on my face. I shade my eyes with my hand, too bothered by the intensity. I know I cannot linger here forever. These calm few seconds are so relaxing, a solace I wish could stretch into infinity.

My right hand lifts towards the heavens, fingers splayed towards the sun. Specks of earth dance down from my hand, through the soil that covers my hands, I see my suit, dirtied from the previous battle, and red stains, only there to remind me.

My mind begins to remember how it all led up to this moment. My right arm falls in defeat, expecting it to just fall onto the dirt, I feel it land on metal . I stand.

The black suit attached to my skin was not designed to be out in the open. The yellow lines around my body made of wires, and the red patterns which were mostly around my arms make me stand out. However, I am not too worried being found, after all, I killed everyone in the surroundings. This place was never meant to be a battlefield. It was simply an unimportant tract of land that saw occasional skirmishes, mostly from the scouts of each side ensuring it stayed desolate.

I walk through hills of corpses and metal, every so often a sight more harrowing than the last. An ocean of scraps that look like waves, and in between the few open spots the sun shines beautifully. It would truly look like a pristine sight, if it weren’t for the corpses and rats feasting on the remains of pilots. Moving forward, my presence scares some of the strange-looking rats.

A body stands out among the others, its suit similar to mine. It’s a body I’ve been looking for. I grab onto the remnants of her arms and fold them around my neck, I know where to bring her.

Numb to any feeling, I begin walking down a path that has been made through by use. I kneel, carefully laying her down and remove her helmet. This will be the last time I’ll have to use the path.

I gather some dirt with my bare hands, and begin to shroud her lifeless body. I can barely recognize that it’s her. Her identity fades into the soil. But I know it’s her. even if she looks unrecognizable, her helmet is a testament to her identity. It has to be her. With her body concealed beneath the earth, I gently place the helmet, her last remnant, atop the makeshift grave.

I am reunited with everyone now. In front of me rest the bodies of my closest friends. I decide to pay my respects to each one of them in turn.

John, whose quiet determination radiated calm, always keeping to himself but his silence was a symbol of his trust in his team. He was the team’s lifeline, always standing in the face of danger. It was something that was taken for granted, he was the first to die.

John’s close friend was Clark, whose body rested next to John. Clark followed his older sister Phoebe to war, hoping to be her protector. Despite being scrawny and of smaller stature, he became a guardian angel of the team, a tactical mastermind, meticulously analyzing the battlefield from afar. Clark did not care for me.

Phoebe’s grave was among the last. My memories of her are bitter-sweet torments. She went out of her way to help me, through my stupid mistakes it was her that silently fixed my blunders behind everyone’s back.

To her right was Jake’s helmet, the one who enjoyed giving me a hard time, but to him, everyone was a plaything. Phoebe had feelings for Jake, but she wouldn’t jeopardize the team’s dynamic by confessing. She had hoped that maybe after everything was over, she would have an opportunity. Now, she will never get her chance.

Jake’s grave stands out among the rest. My utmost respect goes to him. Being able to hold such an important team together was a feat only he could accomplish. His red helmet also had unique patterns, exuding a weird green aura. Even in death, his presence remains strong, radiating from his helmet.

There behind Jake, Phoebe, John and Clark laid six other graves. All from the rest of the team. Some graves were empty, their bodies irretrievable, but instead a piece of armor from their previous units lay as memoirs.

To think of them all here together one last time. They were my only reason to have hope for this harsh world, and now they were all gone. These ten graves belong to my family. An eleventh grave stands empty, reserved for me, but not yet.

My grieving is interrupted by sounds reaching my ears from afar. Echoes of thunderous clashes, the clamor of unstoppable aspirations and swords, meeting unbreakable wills and shields. Among them, a wail of agonizing sorrow, surrounded by the explosive symphony of detonations. These sounds are all too familiar to me.

I turn towards the clashing sounds, and slowly make my way. My time in mourning is abruptly shortened. I traverse wave-like mountains of metal. More corpses pass through my sight, the cacophony of clashing intensifying, punctuated by the multicolored glow of distant fires. From afar, I see the radiance of rainbow-colored explosions. As I edge closer, I snatch a piece of cloth from a lifeless body sprawled to the side,, using it to conceal my black suit with noticeable patterns. I creep stealthily among the metallic debris, slowly making my way through the shadows to bear witness to this grand battle.

Once within sight, the loud noises have calmed. There, in the distance, not too far, stands approximately 26 towering figures of steel, possibly more, some shadows are hidden by the thick fog. These machines stand tall, dyed in black and traced with blue and red patterns. Shapes of stars can be seen adorning a few of the American SteelGuards. Each star complex in design, each symbolizing something distinct.

These colossal, almost humanoid steel entities vary in parts, but most are virtually identical. That’s because most of those are not piloted by humans, the majority are automated, each one operated by a different AI running the entire Titan. The Americans manufactured such machines in pursuit of an AI capable of surpassing human performance. As of recent years they have forcibly broken through many technological dead-ends, and despite their numerous breakthroughs, these aspirations remain fruitless. The AI-controlled SteelGuards are largely inefficient, deployed as expendable units. Human beings have proven to be the most important resource in all earth again and again. Nonetheless, the Americans persist in their attempts to replace human operators with machines, not only in war, but in all sectors.

In this war, human-piloted SteelGuards remain the spearhead of the American forces. This battle is no exception; each SteelGuard with a star pattern is human-operated.

A lone SteelGuard advances, standing before its counterparts. For a second, I thought it was looking down upon me, but its focus shifts downward. Below my line of sight stand three Mechas. Unlike the American SteelGuard, their designs are strikingly divergent, these three Mechas did not look similar to one another, their figures different. They stand imposing with their red color, each a different shade, many yellow stars could be seen emblazoned on each of their red metallic bodies. Despite their seemingly insurmountable adversaries, their bodies not any smaller than the SteelGuard, their presence not any weaker. They remain resilient, unfazed by the overwhelming array of American SteelGuards before them. They have always been like this.

To an ordinary observer, the odds for these three red Mechas would seem bleak, but I knew better. I knew these three stood a chance, however slim, they were capable enough. A victory might be a pipe dream, yet a draw remains within the play. This realization holds the SteelGuards still, they remain wary and analytical.

Caught in a standoff, the cornered trio faces the staggering twenty-six. The tension is palpable. The dark battlefield seems suspended in time, until unexpectedly, the night sky is punctuated by six falling red meteors.

I narrow my eyes for clarity. They are not meteors; they are the Chinese Hóng táo Mechas. These flaming red metallic Mechas plummet towards the blue-clad Titans. Like a squadron of Valkyries, they descend from the skies, closing the gap.

I shift my gaze back towards the SteelGuards. The tables have turned, and now I look to see what cards the SteelGuards hold. My eyes widen at the sight of dozens of blue lights illuminating from afar, as around forty Steel Titans emerge from the fog, more appearing every second. They march in unison towards the three red Mechas standing before me. I sense danger, and I can’t help but question my own survival.