On both sides, all was set.
Over in the Fabricated World, Guertena had put the finishing touches on his defenses. The staging room, which had once stored his entire army, would soon become a battlefield, and he had modified it accordingly. He had shrunken and narrowed the once-unfathomably large chamber to a (relatively) smaller, more manageable size, such that it now resembled an immense hallway. On top of this Guertena then divided the room to best suit his plans and split his forces between the spaces accordingly. Finally, he situated his own "portrait" (it didn't actually show his face, just his shoulder and arm), the object from which he derived his existence, in a chamber at the opposite end of the staging room from the portal. Of course it was purely symbolic since the portrait's physical location made no difference, but he had realized a simple truth. He could not think on the purely practical, strategic level of military science. That was part of why he lost the first time: he tried beating them at their own game. No. He would fight as an artist. The battlefield would be his canvas, his creations his paintbrush, and his enemies' blood the paint.
Preparations were also complete on the other side of the portal. The troops were gathered, the extra water tanks were ready, and a two-way radio relay system had been brought in that would be set up halfway through the portal, theoretically allowing for communication across the dimensional divide. Everyone knew to expect the unexpected. There had been a last minute argument over whether the attack force should include tanks despite the fact that Ib and Garry had described the Fabricated World as resembling an indoor area. Landon argued that whatever place the portal led to would've needed to be large enough to accommodate Guertena's largest monsters, and when combined with the likely appearance of those monsters in the defense, this justified the usage of armored vehicles. Some of his staff disagreed. Since they had no way of knowing just how much the Fabricated World even adhered to basic laws of physics, they argued, whose to say that the space on the other side might actually be smaller than the general suspected, and it works anyway simply because it's the Fabricated World? In such a case, bringing armored vehicles into this fight would simply clog their attack force. In the end, the two sides compromised. The front lines would solely consist of infantry, but the spearheading brigades' tanks would be kept on standby. It was not entirely in line with standard military doctrine, but neither was this whole war.
Garry found himself filling with dread as he stared at the portal. Never before had he taken part in a military operation of any kind, never mind a pitched battle. Even during his and Ib's ordeal, they never fought more than one or two small monsters at a time. He had read accounts of battles in history books and news reports, but that was entirely different. Garry had no idea what to expect. Would he survive to see tomorrow? Should he just kiss his life goodbye right now? Would he ultimately have to kill a monster or two despite not technically being in a combat position? He had certainly killed Fabricated World monsters before, but somehow the idea of going to their home and attacking them made him uneasy, particularly after his talk with Ib about 'the other.'
Still, Garry knew he had to push these issues out of his mind. He gritted his teeth slightly and resolved to do whatever he needed to do… or at least try.
He fidgeted nervously with the semi-automatic pistol side arm he had been supplied with. The officer next to him immediately stopped him. "For God's sake, That is not a toy!" It was Colonel Myler, the man whose brigade would be spearheading the attack and to whom Garry was attached. A clear military man, he was similar in mindset to Landon but a little coarser in his manner. Since being introduced to each other a few days ago, he and Garry got along… well enough. "You aren't in art school anymore! You're about to enter the battlefield, and if you don't take that fact seriously you're going to get yourself killed!"
"Sorry, sir," responded Garry. "I'm… I'm just a little nervous, that's all… Ib and I are new to this."
Myler sighed and shook his head. "Look, kid…" he slowly said, "this all sounds harsh, I know, but here's the thing: We're all nervous. The more you show it or let it control you, though, the more danger you actually put yourself in. You can't let your civilian qualms get in the way. Now, stick to the plan and show us the way, and then hopefully both of us will come out alive."
At that point, everyone's attention was called forward. It was almost time. The men began preparing for combat. General Landon came to the front and delivered a short battle speech. After many days of fighting the otherworldly abominations on our own soil, he declared, the tide had at last turned, and it was time to return the favor. The goal of the mission was simple: Storm the Fabricated World, neutralize the monsters at the source, and bring whoever or whatever orchestrated the attack to justice. For better or worse, he continued, this brigade would lead the attack, and he trusted in their ability to secure a foothold from which Landon could bring the rest of the army through the portal and press further. Be prepared not only for more monsters, he warned, but also supernatural occurrences; their world is not like ours, to say the least. Should the brigade need additional support, more reinforcements and armored vehicles were on standby. Regardless, he concluded, the eyes of all humanity were upon them today, and they would decide whether the day would belong to mankind, or to the aggressors of the Fabricated World.
And with that, the brigade – with Myler and Garry somewhat towards the back – advanced through the portal.
The men emerged into what appeared to be an unfathomably vast, dimly lit hallway, so large and shrouded in fog-like darkness that one could hardly see the sides. Just as Ib and Garry had said would happen, every person received a rose. There were no vases this time. They simply materialized. Garry's familiar blue rose appeared in the small backpack he'd been issued, Myler received a dark green rose, and all the soldiers found themselves carrying roses matching their individual personalities.
But they had no time to process this information. Moments after the humans had arrived, Guertena's creations all opened fire. With a tremendous bang, the air became a hailstorm of otherworldly projectiles. Men on Myler's front-most lines started dropping like flies. In the distance, they saw several of those three legged tank monsters positioning themselves to fire.
The soldiers fanned out and returned fire. "You said this place would be like a massive museum!" screamed Myler as he and Garry threw themselves to the ground.
"I didn't know! This place has no set layout!" Garry shouted back as bullets whizzed over his head. Myler reached for his radio handset before realizing the relay had not been set up yet, and ordered a nearby private to run back through the portal and request armored support. "Make sure they go as fast as they can with the goddamn tanks!" he barked as the private ran off.
"Wait!" Garry exclaimed, turning to Myler. "Sir, what do we do until then?!"
"We fight it out and teach them whose boss!" The final parts of the brigade were crossing through the portal now, bringing with them the water tanks and opening fire the moment they set foot in the Fabricated World. Others finished setting up the two way relay system, allowing for cross-portal radio communication. At the same time, more monsters seemed to be joining the fray. Several types such as the mannequin heads and the painted ladies charged in for melee combat. Iron-like claws clashed with steel bayonets. Bullets from both sides tore into human flesh and fabricated art material alike. Blood, petals, bits of stone, and flakes of paint littered the floor. It wasn't clear which side was winning. The human foothold was no more than a couple hundred meters in size (small considering the vast size of the chamber) and had for the moment bogged down, but they were definitely holding their own and inflicting casualties. The monsters held a slight numerical advantage, but for some reason they were mostly only the smaller, infantry-sized monsters supported by a dozen or so larger ones, and the human forces utilized the regenerative power of the roses to rapidly heal all but the worst battlefield injuries.
The fighting continued in this chaotic state for what felt to Garry like an eternity, when all of a sudden a large shell struck one of the brigade's main water tanks, sending water and shrapnel flying everywhere. More shells began falling on the human forces, tearing apart and tossing into the air several soldiers with each shot. "Shit!" exclaimed Myler, "those tripod monsters are softening us up for something!" He had several men try to neutralize the monsters with rocket launcher fire, but between accuracy issues and the monsters' armor, they were never able to do more than cripple one of the legs or disable one of the three gun barrels, leaving the monster with two more guns to attack with. Myler radioed in to see what the status was of the tanks. Their crews were getting ready as fast as possible, and they would be over in a minute or two. "Hurry up! We're being pounded!" he shouted.
Without warning a shell landed nearby Garry and exploded, throwing him to the ground and costing him no fewer than four petals from his rose. Wincing in pain, Garry tried getting up but found he'd broken his ankle. He knew what he had to do. Gritting his teeth and hoping that he'd have enough time to do this, Garry managed to pull out his drinking water canteen and jammed his rose in there as hard as he could. Within seconds he felt his leg heal as if nothing had happened. Picking himself back up, he got up and bolted back over to Myler just in time to avoid a second round that exploded where he was five seconds ago.
A minute or so later, the bombardment unexpectedly lightened up. The brigade braced for a renewed counter-assault from the smaller monsters, but right at that moment they heard a loud mechanical rumbling from behind them, and a second later a massive explosion tore a hole in the monsters' ranks. Myler and Garry looked over; several tanks had arrived along with more water. "Alright, here and ready for action sir!" crackled a voice over Myler's handset.
"And none too soon!" he growled back.
The tripod monsters promptly redirected their attention to this new threat and opened fire, destroying two of the lead tanks outright and disabling one of the treads on a third. More tanks nosed their way through the portal and returned fire, pulling away from the portal to avoid potentially clogging it. Heavy shells from both sides streaked across the battlefield. At first the tripod monsters seemed to have the upper hand, but as the rest of the brigade's standby tanks along with more specialized artillery vehicles emerged from the portal and began to bear down on their position, the human armor gained the edge. Garry watched a well-placed shot strike a tripod monster right in one of its "eyes" and detonate, blasting the monster in half.
Myler ordered his forces back on the offensive. With the exception of a couple self-propelled artillery units that stayed behind to keep the tripod monsters busy, the tanks roared forward deeper into the staging room, guns ablaze and infantry following close behind. Guertena's monsters continued to put up stiff resistance, but they slowly but surely began losing ground. Although the tripod monsters' multiple guns allowed them to engage multiple targets at once, it grew increasingly difficult as they took more and more damage, and they were only able to slow the brigade down. The other monsters seemed to grow increasingly frantic, clambering onto the tanks to try prying open the hatches and in a couple instances even throwing themselves into the treads in a vain effort to jam them. A statue managed to wrench the gunner's hatch of one of the tanks open, but before it could attack the crew an infantryman shot it down.
After intense fighting, Myler's forces pushed to almost point blank range within the tripod position. The tanks stopped, aimed, and all opened fire on them. Already greatly weakened, the tripod monsters tried to fight back but were unable to do so effectively and were soon all destroyed, reduced to smoldering wreckage. "Great job men," Myler stated as he observed the action. "They've lost their biggest guns now. Time to clear out the rest of them." Now sorely outgunned, the monster's defenses seemingly began to crumble, and the humans were able to press forward with growing ease.
Not long afterwards, Myler reached for his handset and radioed in. "General, this is Colonel Myler," he said. "We've cleared enough room now for you and Ib to come into the Fabricated World for yourself. We took a beating at first but now have the monsters on the run. Garry is alive and safe."
"Excellent work," crackled Landon's voice over the handset as Myler personally shot a wounded painted lady in the head with his side-arm. "We will be over there shortly." By now the fighting was becoming one-sided.
A few minutes later, the general called in again. "Alright, this is General Landon. Ib, my command staff, and I have crossed the portal and are on field, along with the rest of the army. Great job again men. It's possible though that we've only just scratched the surface. Press on, and let's finish this." Shortly afterwards a familiar young girl's voice crackled over the handset. "Hi Garry, this is Ib. Hang in there, you can do it. I believe in you!"
Hearing Ib's voice comforted Garry.
Finally, the brigade pushed the remaining monsters back to what seemed like an thick wall of vines, where they mopped them up completely, taking no prisoners. Once the last monster was lying on the ground motionless, Myler turned to Garry and asked, "do you have any idea what this means?"
"Yes," he responded. "These sorts of vines 'grow' to act like improvised barriers, used to cut groups apart or block off passageways. There are at least two variations; the plastic-like ones and the tougher stone-like ones… I think these are the latter."
"Very well…" Myler said, thinking. After a moment he turned over to the tanks and shouted, "All heavy guns, level this barrier to the ground!" All at once the tanks opened fire on the vines with an ear-splitting bang, but after several volleys, it was clear that they were only doing minor damage. "Very well then," the colonel snorted. "Captain," he said, turning to a junior officer, "have several squads go out in all directions and see if there's any way around this damn thing." The captain saluted and set off, sending out parties from his company to scout. Myler then radioed Landon to update him on the situation and to request the heaviest demolition equipment available.
As the rest of the brigade waited, Garry started getting an uneasy feeling. "Sir?" he asked, "this might be a dumb question, but… is it possible that Guertena let us get this far on purpose? I mean, as hard as that fighting was, where were all the big monsters, the gargoyles, all the rest of the tripod things, and hell, the behemoths?"
Myler paused to think for a moment, and then said, "It's possible, kid, but as a matter of tactics it would've made more sense to wipe us out from the beginning than let us establish a foothold. Besides, we're already here, so–,"
At that point, a sergeant from one of the scouting squads came back. "Sir, we found something," he stated. "We found a set of four doorways on the extreme left wall of the hallway, not far from where the wall meets the vines." He led Myler, Garry, the captain, and the rest of the company over to the area. Sure enough, there were four doors on the wall, each a separate color.
The soldiers who investigated the first door reported a large empty space made seemingly entirely out of crayon. They remained in the room for a bit, baffled by its very existence, when all of a sudden a spear materialized and shot across the room, nearly impaling one of the men. They promptly exited.
The next door led to a room full of portraits, much like a room in an actual museum. The squad of soldiers sent to investigate initially reported nothing of interest, but then all of a sudden the portraits came alive and lunged at them, shrieking like harpies. After a brief but bloody battle, three of the men and all of the "portraits" lay dead. For their efforts, the squad's survivors were rewarded with a grotesque plush doll holding a message that read, "The fun has just begun." "Wartime propaganda trash talk," Myler curtly dismissed it as upon learning about it.
The soldiers approached the third door more cautiously. Guns drawn, they entered it one by one. No sooner than the last one had passed through, though, than did the door suddenly slam shut and disappear. For a few seconds Myler and Garry heard blood curdling screams over their handsets, but then it fell silent. The door reappeared, this time slightly ajar, as if beckoning more to come in.
Only a few brave souls volunteered to go into the last door. They opened it extremely warily and went inside, this time having another soldier hold the door open. But to the surprise and relief of everyone, nothing unusual seemed to happen.
After a minute, one of them came out. "Sir," he told Colonel Myler, "There is a strange, talking painting in there that wants to speak with you… it says it has something important to share."
After hesitating a moment, Myler nodded. The soldier escorted him and Garry over to a crude picture of a demented smiley face, chuckling to itself as its mouth constantly twitched. Myler went up to it and said, "Alright listen painting. You've caused us enough trouble already, and our rules of war don't cover your kind, so spit it out!"
The painting seemed completely unfazed. "hehehe… No need to get angry, mister… hehe. I know how you can get your forces across the barrier… I just want one small thing in return," it said in a demented tone.
The colonel narrowed his eyes. "And what would that be?"
"Don't trust that thing," Garry interjected. "Ib and I saw it before, and it doesn't have your best interests in mind."
The painting ignored him. "All I want," it responded, "is that there pretty green flower of yours…"
Myler paused for a moment, and then pulled out his handgun and shot the face straight between the eyes. It emitted what sounded like a combination of a scream and a burst of laughter. Blue paint dripped from the hole. "Very… well then… ha…ha… I lied… I'll show you anyway…" It gasped before falling silent.
At that moment the ground suddenly started shaking. "What the hell is going on?!" the soldier asked in alarm. All of them ran out back out the door into the main area, just in time to see the vines beginning to crack. Small bits of green stone fell to the ground as more and more fissures appeared. And then, with a tremendous crashing noise, the vines all crumbled and collapsed, sending up an immense dust cloud. When the dust cleared, what Garry saw made his heart drop into his stomach: There, waiting on the other side of the barrier, was a massive army of Guertena's monsters, far bigger and consisting of more powerful monsters than the initial defense force. Row upon row of statues and mannequin heads. Dozens of the demon-like painted ladies. Several times more tripod monsters than what they had earlier encountered. Gargoyles. Behemoths. Several types of monsters never previously seen before. They were all there, waiting.
And right at that moment, they attacked. The ranged monsters opened fire while the melee oriented ones lunged forward. Myler's forces returned fire, but it was clear that they wouldn't be able to hold all of the monster off. "Sir – General Landon!" Myler radioed in frantically, "A massive force of monsters, much larger than the first group we encountered just appeared and attacked! There's no way my brigade can fight them off!"
"Damn it, I had a feeling there was something up! The second brigade is beginning to form a defensive line behind you. Have some of your forces conduct a rearguard action while the rest fall back to that line, and help them hold it until more reinforcements arrive. We aren't out of men just yet!" Landon's voice crackled over the handset in response. Myler hesitated, reluctant to send some of his men to almost certain death but knowing it was essential, before ultimately giving the affirmative. Directing his attention back to his unit, he ordered one infantry battalion and a handful of tank platoons to try and hold off the enemy for as long as possible while the rest fell back to the new defensive line.
"Wait!" Garry asked as they began to pull back. "Are we just abandoning those men to die?!"
"we have no choice!" shouted Myler back. "Even if it wasn't orders, it's either they die or all of us die! These are the sort of choices you need to make in the military!"
After several minutes of retreat, they reached the new defensive line. It was just in time, too. Although the rearguard force had fought admirably and held up the monsters for some time, they were ultimately overwhelmed. What the behemoths didn't crush outright, the smaller monsters mopped up afterwards. A few panicked survivors trickled back towards the human lines. The soldiers braced themselves for what they knew what was coming.
And then, with an intimidating collective roar, the monsters launched their counterassault on the human position. The air once again filled with a hailstorm of bullets. Melee monsters charged through machine gun fire to lunge at their targets. The ground became covered with blood, broken flower petals, and smashed bits of clay and canvas. At first the soldiers' defensive line seemed to be holding, but bit by bit as casualties mounted and the monsters took the time to specifically target the water tanks essential to the humans' regenerative abilities, the monsters started to push the humans back and begin cracking their defensive line.
One thing was certain: Guertena's largest monsters had to be stopped at all costs. "All armor concentrate fire on those behemoths!" another officer's voice crackled over the radio system. Every tank in the line stopped, took aim at the closest behemoth charging towards the position, and opened fire almost in unison. Dozens of shells smashed into its armored carapace and exploded, taking a collective toll on the monster. Damaged and enraged it reached down, grabbed a destroyed tank, and hurled it as a projectile, destroying a self-propelled artillery unit. The other tanks continued firing, though, and after one last salvo, the behemoth literally cracked apart and collapsed, crushing a swath of Guertena's smaller monsters. For a moment it felt like this would mark the point of the tide turning, but the emergence of more behemoths shattered those hopes.
Despite these and other occasional glimmers of hope, the situation was growing desperate. "Sir! What do we do?!" Garry frantically asked Myler as they just barely missed being hit by a volley of otherworldly bullets.
"Grab an assault rifle from one of the dead and start fighting!" Myler snapped. Garry instantly obeyed. Ditching his side arm for an assault gun retrieved from a dead body next to him, he took aim at a mannequin head headed straight for him and fired. To his elation, he scored a direct hit, shattering the monster with a straight hit to the forehead. He then was able to squeeze of two more monsters. He began to fill with optimism and confidence. It was is if he had the power to stop the entire –
At that moment, a shell landed right at Myler's feet and exploded.
…
The next thing Garry knew, he found himself sprawled out on the ground, badly injured, with his rose missing 6 of its petals. How long he'd been out he had no idea. Colonel Myler was nowhere to be seen, save for his petal-less rose stem and shredded green petals scattered all over the area.
Garry suddenly found several obsidian gun barrels being shoved into his face. It was the statues. They all had surrounded him, arm cannons trained on him. Struggling to his knees, Garry held up his hands in surrender. There was no last-minute rescue this time. No airstrike that would save him. He was captured.
"Colonel Myler, Garry, come in!" General Landon repeated into his handset, hoping for a response. The battle was not going well to say the least, and some of his staff were even beginning to float the possibility of outright withdrawal. The thought made Landon's skin crawl, but if things continued going south he may have no choice. And now he had just lost contact with two crucial individuals.
"Myler! Garry! Come in!" he yelled yet again with greater urgency.
No response. Landon gave up in frustration and angrily cursed the turn of events. Ib, who had been listening in with growing concern, now went up to him cautiously and worriedly asked, "Is Garry okay? Is he hurt? Please tell me he's okay."
"Ib I'm going to be honest: You probably aren't going to see him again," Landon replied. "I've lost contact with him and the officer he's attached to, and the reports from the field aren't good. They're most likely dead."
Ib turned pale. "Dead," she quietly repeated to herself, lips trembling, and then fell to her knees in despair, just staring blankly at the ground. "Garry's dead," she tearfully whispered to herself again and again. She didn't start sobbing or wailing. She just sat there as if she was catatonic.
Landon went over to her. "Now Ib" he said, half-trying to strike a somewhat sympathetic tone, "I know, no one likes it when a friend dies, but you can't let that stop you! We still have a battle to turn around, and grieving isn't going to help anything. Come on now!"
No use. Ib didn't even budge, still as a statue. It wasn't even clear if she had heard him.
Landon snorted and turned away. Very well then. He'd turn this fight around himself, Ib or no Ib! He knew how to fight, and he'd do it. He'd –
Suddenly from behind him he heard what could only be described as the sound of reality tearing apart followed by a young girl's scream. Landon turned around in alarm just in time to see a shadowy hand dragging Ib into a pitch black hole in the ground. Once Ib was all the way in, the hand and hole vanished without a trace. A message spontaneously appeared on the wall: "My world, my rules."
(Although I don't know how good a job I did, writing a battle scene turned out not to be as impossible as I thought it would be. To do it, I basically combined all of what I have learned from narrative recountings of historical battles, the lessons I got from ch5's fight scene, and descriptive writing in general.)