"Fall back – fall back, damn it!" screamed a battered and bruised P.L.E.X, as he unleashed another stream of crit-rockets into the milling tide of bronies that continued to charge up the hill. "Head for the teletporter array," he continued, "We'll make our last stand at the bunker!" The situation had indeed deteriorated to such a degree that 'The Glue Factory' was beginning to crumble – the massive earthen walls had become slick with blood, both human and brony, and was beginning to collapse under the stress of all that it had endured these past few weeks. The trenches had become charnel pits of colorful blood and gore, and the surrounding landscape was so pocked and cratered that the once scenic hill more resembled a moonscape than anything else.
Moose, who was supporting a shell-shocked Ariel on his shoulder, gave an incredulous look towards his superior as he shouted, "Are you insane? We don't even know if the bunker is finished yet; the teleporters won't be fast enough to get us there in time!" In a rare show of hysterics, P.L.E.X rounded on his subordinate and with a scream retorted, "If you have a problem with it than you can stay here and die!" before gathering up as much ammunition as he could physically carry, and hastily began to egress with the rest of the survivors. Gustauve, who had the misfortune of seeing the enforcer's outburst, sidled up to him as they made to move towards the bunker site. Turning towards his friend, Gus asked, "What was that about?" With a huff, P.L.E.X replied, "We don't have time for second-guessing ourselves, the next push those bastards make will be the last – I don't intend to stick around and meet them when they do."
Frowning slightly, Gustauve could only remain silent – after all, it wasn't his place to object, and he could hardly see any other alternative as it were. His moment of introspection was cut short when Dane Vogel came running up to the two of them, panting heavily, and exclaiming, "The teleporters are up and running, P.L.E.X, but it'll still take some time to get everyone across to the bunker system – we need volunteers to stay and hold them off long enough for the others to make it." Instantly, Gustauve exclaimed, "I'll stay." Turning towards him, P.L.E.X asked, "Are you sure? We could really use you at the bunker – some of these guys look to be on their last leg." With a determined nod of his head, the Medic affirmed, "Yes, I'm sure; it's my duty to insure that as many of them as possible make it out of this alive." With a grim sigh, the chief moderator breathed out, "Good man – we'll see about getting you some support."
Quickly calling out to P.L.E.X one last time, Gustauve reached into his breast-side pocket and retrieved a slightly crumpled sheet of paper, saying, "If I don't make it, please, send this note to my wife, Rebbecca – please." Taking the note from his friend, P.L.E.X slowly nodded his acquiescence. With that, Gustauve turned and headed for the rendezvous point. Turning back to Dane Vogel, the primary law enforcer grunted, "Go out and ask for volunteers – we need at least 12; tell them go stand with Gustauve at the array and await further orders." "Sure," confirmed Dane, "I'll get right on that." And with that, the two went their separate ways, one towards the men, and the other towards the teleportation array.
Standing up on a stack of ammo crates, Vogel shouted, "Alright, listen up," at this many turned towards him, "We're getting the hell out of here, but in order to buy enough time for us to take the teleporters out of here, we need a handful of volunteers to stay behind us and hold them off – now, Gustauve has already volunteered, but I need at least a dozen others to come forward as well; do I have any offers?" The crowd silently muttered amongst themselves, until a hand shot up, followed by another, and then two more. In the end, there were fifteen hands, connected to fifteen brave souls who were willing to risk their lives for the sake of the others. Gustauve recognized quite a few of them (namely Sanders, Emily, and Angel), and was delighted to know that he would at least be among good friends in his last moments.
Pointing at the volunteers, Dane Vogel proclaimed, "Alright, so we've got our volunteer; now I need the rest of you to form up into five orderly lines, with the sick and wounded up front – at P.L.E.X's signal I want you to begin taking the teleporters one at a time and head straight for the bunker complex when you exit." As the crowd murmured in confirmation, he continued, "All casualties need to be taken to the triage center as soon as possible, and some of you will need to help with the finishing touches on the fortifications; the rest of you will be designated a section of the complex that you are to defend in groups of six men each; PolarStar will give you further orders upon your arival – now wait for the signal!" Turning once more to the volunteers, he said, "Good luck out there."
"Danke," replied Gustauve, "We are going to need all the luck we can get." Turning towards the rest of the volunteers, the German made a mental tally of who all had decided to risk their necks and assist him. Glancing first to the three he best recognized, he began, 'Let's see, Emily and I are both Medics, Sanders is a Scharfschutzer, Angel is a Heavy.' Turning next to the rest of those that he recognized, he continued – 'Waiyu and Stitch are both Engineers, and Demon is a Spy – Aero Phantom is a Demoknight, while it looks like Red, Ghost, Alucardio and Dr. Cirno are all Demolition-men.' Finally turning towards the last four members, he noted that they comprised of another Heavy, two Scouts and a Pyro. Pointing towards them, he asked, "You four, what are your names?" One of the Scouts answered first, saying, "I'm Lexi." The Pyro spoke up next, "Call me Rage." The Heavy introduced himself as Popcorn, and the final Scout went by Gamer.
Memorizing their names as quickly as possible, Gustauve thanked them for joining and proceeded to say, "I'm not going to pretend that we're going to make it out of this intact, so I just want to say that for the sake of the server, we need to try and keep each other alive – you all know what to do, I would imagine, so I will not impose to you any sort of plan other than this; keep those horse-fucking bastards away from the teleporters at all cost." Just as he finished, a dazzling display of pyrotechnics lit up the sky, causing all to stare in awe. "That was the signal," shouted Dane Vogel, "Go!" Instantly the five teleporters that constituted the array sprang to life with a hum of oscillating energy, and one by one, the survivors stepped through the displacement drives and towards their destination. This was also the signal for the volunteers to get to work.
Immediately, Waiyu began by setting down the plans for a dispenser, whilst Stich simultaneously began building a turret, all the while Rage stood close at hand to prevent any potential sabotage by a rogue spy. The four Demomen promptly began putting down rows upon rows of various explosive charges, blanketing the surrounding area in a minefield of frightening destruction. The two scouts began making runs along the front, taking pot shots at those first few brony abominations that took the initiative up the remainder of the hill. Sanders began methodically laying out a firing zone in his head, as he scoped in his three rifles and loosened his bandoliers. Emily, who at this time switched out her standard Medigun for a Kritzkrieg, began to build a charge on Popcorn, who was toting a Tomislav. Gustauve also began charging his standard Medigun on Angel, who was brandishing his Brass Beast, already rotating with a furious whine. Demon, for his part, seemingly disappeared, no doubt setting up an ambush for some poor unfortunate idiot down at the base of the hill. Phantom merely watched and waited - the white-knuckled grip on his Eyelander the only indication of his apprehension.
All at once, the damn burst. The thundering of footsteps was near deafening, and the war cry of the enemy was fierce. They came as a wave; spewing forth rockets and grenades, Jarates and Baseballs – the first of them to reach the trenches became bogged down in the blood and gore that filled the channels, and were subsequently trampled to death by those who were behind them as they clamored for the defenders' blood. Still more became bogged down in the slog of even further trenches, but even then the momentum continued! It was not until the two sentry guns chirped into activity that the defenders acted! All at once, the minefield that was at one point in time the hill top fort was set off in a blaze of light and sound, the heat wave bursting forth set both cloth and skin alight, shrapnel flew through the air, as did various bits and pieces of the enemy, as the sky began to weep rainbow colored blood!
The now broken wave of attackers was merely a shadow of its former self, but even then they outnumbered our heroes at fifty to one! Instantly, side arms were drawn, swords and bats and wrenches were brandished; the bark of Angel's Brass Beast was deafening as it let loose a torrent of lead into its victims. Phantom careened into the fray with a blood curdling cry as his blade swung to and fro, severing heads as if they were loaves of bread. The constant staccato of Popcorn's Tomislav was accentuated by the tremolo of the Sentry guns as they chew through target after target at a ravenous pace! Already, Emily was fully charged, and at her wards behest she deployed her gift of destruction upon Popcorn, his Tomislav crackling with energy as his shots grew in power; tearing bronies in half, leaving softball sized holes in their bullet riddled corpses!
As Gustauve surveyed all that was happening, he could not help but wonder why the enemy's Snipers had not yet fired upon them, but as his charge meter rang full, he put it out of his mind. Calling out to Angel that he was fully charged, the Heavy gave a nod, and all at once he was filled with energy; his skin began to take on a metallic consistency as he began to glow an angry red – he was invulnerable, and he reveled in the feeling! Many of the enemy began to panic and turn tail, but it was all for naught as they were viciously cut down by all manner of weaponry. Sanders, who had been systematically picking off any of the wretches that dared to hold still for more than a second, saw something in his scope that had given him pause. With a grin, he called out, "Gus, come take a look at this!"
Quickly running towards his good friend, Gustauve looked through the proffered scope, and with a slack jawed look of awe, exclaimed, "I'll be damned!" Out in the midst of the enemy, Gustauve observed Demon as he worked; quickly taking on the guise of a brony to effortlessly run back and forth, inhuming the enemy Snipers and Medics with such grace and subtlety that they Ponyfags could not suspect a thing! The two of them exchanged grins before heading back to work; there was a time and a place for everything. As it were, the first wave of faggotry was quickly mopped up, and the results had been marvelous – hundreds of bronies lied dead at their feet, and the only casualty had been Phantom scraping his knee on a rock! With a cheer, our heroes once again set to work, laying down more bombs and restocking on ammunition – and just in time as well, the next wave was coming, and it looked to be twice as big.
Turning towards the array, Gustauve noted that the line of people waiting to teleport out had diminished by a third; they were making good progress. His thoughts were interrupted as the mine field once again detonated – the pall of dirt and body parts flying through the air blackened the sky as the wretched menace pushed through the wisping smoke and made towards their target. Again, the singing of sentries and the laughter of miniguns rang through the air as the wall of bodies collided with a wall of lead; corpses continued to pile up around them, steadily rising as more and more fell at the defenders feet. Things would continue to run this smoothly for the next five minutes or so until disaster struck in the form of a lucky crit-rocket landing right on top of Waiyu's sentry gun, blowing it sky high and throwing him through the air! Quickly checking that the Engineer was indeed still alive, Gustauve screamed to Rage, "Get him to the Teleporter, Schnell!"
Quickly scooping up his charge, Rage ran for the teleporter array, only to be shot through the leg by an enemy sniper! Instantly springing into action, Alucardio exclaimed, "Shit – Sanders cover me!" With a nod, Sanders swung his rifle towards the enemy assassin and politely removed its head as Al ran towards his two downed allies. Scooping them up, he grunted, "I've got you guys – we're gonna get you out of here!" Running towards the teleporter array, he handed them off to the remaining refugees before charging straight back towards the line! As it were, the line was increasingly shrinking as the brave defenders were pushed further back. Already, Stich had been struck by a spy, his deltoid muscle severed and his good arm useless. Popcorn took an arrow to the head, and was only barely clinging life! Both Lexi and Gamer had fallen victim to a critical grenade, and Demon was nowhere to be found! Dr. Cirno had been liquidated by a Manmelter, whilst Ghost had set off all of his ammunition in a final act of defiant vengeance as he was finally overrun.
Realizing that to remain was suicide, Gustauve cried out, "Pull out - head for the array!" Those that remained ran as quickly as possible, hotly pursued from all angles, and had it not been for a set of explosives that lined the perimeter of the Array to allow for a final escape, they would have never made it out. In a flash of light, the survivors found themselves in front a massive concrete structure with various gun emplacements and battlements surrounding it. Quickly running towards them was none other than PolarStar, a grim look of determination on his face as he asked, "Are you the last of them?" With a frown of his own, Gustauve replied, "Ja, we're all that made it." With a sigh, Polar exhaled, "Good," before pressing a button on his deconstruction module. Behind them, the teleporters exploded in a shower of sparks, as he continued, "Take the wounded down to the medical bay." Pulling Gustauve aside as the others complied, he whispered, "You did good Gus; don't beat yourself up about it." Looking his friend in the eye, the Medic gave a haggard sigh, "I'll be fine - I just need a stiff drink, that's all." With that, he headed into the bunker, followed by Polar who, with a final look towards western horizon, fought off the chill of dread as he surveyed the desiccated hilltop a few kilometers away as it crawled with bronies.