Author's notes: Yeah, I know I said there'd be more frequent updates, but hey, my last exam was earlier this week and I needed to relax a little. To make up for things, have this super-long chapter, it's about twice the length of the average one. Enjoy!
Chapter 25: March of the Machines
Last night the storm had cleared up, at least for now. It was only a matter of time before they were attacked again, surely by now their location would have been discovered and even if they were still safe, there was nothing to be gained from staying here. They'd gathered what little supplies were available at this old abandoned base, they rested and healed, gathered or fashioned their own ammo and were just about ready to set off.
Nils had checked up on everyone and whilst he'd prefer another day or two to ensure everyone was definitely fully recovered beyond any doubt in his mind, he knew that practically, they didn't have another day. This was war, you can't just expect to be able to rest just because you're tired and injured; the enemy has no such courtesy. The Medic would prefer to have been able to look into constructing a new experimental Medigun based on the designs of the now-destroyed Life Sparker, the results and some discussions with Isaac regarding the overcharging the Übercharge.
Dell and Isaac, with some assistance from Grigori, Jane and Ewan for brute force, had been able to fashion another trailer of sorts. Unlike their former vehicle, this was truly more of a trailer than a motorised mini-base. They'd cobbled it together from scrap metal, wood, and some large tyres they'd found scattered around the base that seemed designed to handle the snow. Despite the poor construction materials and very little time they'd had, it nonetheless was surprisingly sturdy and they'd fitted some sort of advanced suspension to allow it to handle the steep descent and general harshness of the mountains.
Whilst they'd been unable to construct an engine and steering mechanism, something they claimed was due to lack of time more than lack of materials (much to the disbelief of Gabriel and Kevin), they had added some brakes and oddly, several bars to grip onto. The pair of Engineers simply explained that they expected things to go downhill sooner or later (causing Ashley and Jack to look at each other and facepalm) and that if the team had to all jump onto the trailer whilst barrelling down a mountain at high speed, dodging bullets, it would be embarrassing if one were to simply fall or be thrown off. A few spots also had fixings in the wall and base to attach sentries.
"Way I reckon it, we just got to check over it to ensure it holds together as securely as possible, attach a few mini-sentries and a dispenser or two and we'll be set. Already got everythin' loaded up, not long now before we can git going."
Dell looked back on the cobbled together creation. Sure, it was simple, plain and would likely be categorised by most as nothing more than a rolling deathtrap, but heck if he wasn't still fond of it. Might not look like much, but it'd been thrown together in less than a day and with what few materials they'd had, that they'd been able to make something stable was in itself impressive.
"Have to give it to ya, hardhat, wouldn't surprise me if ya could build yourself your own base and armour or somethin' if you had enough time, even if you were stuck in a cave with nuthin' but a box of scrap."
Kevin smirked, giving Dell a smack on the back that was deliberately a bit too strong. The boy tried not to let his disappointment show when despite the hard blow the Texan didn't even stumble.
Things were looking up. Or at least...they had been.
###
Snowflakes had started to descend from the heavens once more and everyone was just getting ready to go. Grigori stood by the trailer, gripping reins in his large hands, currently balled into fists. It was agreed that the Russian, being by far the strongest and most used to such conditions, would be pulling the trailer along. The two Engineers still wanted to try and fashion an engine, but with time against them and it arguably being safer to pull the trailer along and potentially lose it down a steep drop than drive off the edge with them all in it, they relented.
As for the Heavy himself, he showed a brief sadness that he'd be used like "mere horse to pull little wagon" to use his words, but that quickly faded when Jane of all people, encouraged the Russian, reminding him that he was the only one the team could trust and that he was the strongest of all of them. Unused to a compliment and encouragement from the normally insane and angry Soldier, Grigori found himself taken aback and felt his ego boosted just a little. Despite the weight behind him, he still carried all his weapons, Sasha attached to his back, the quad-barrelled shotgun dangling from his waist, a box containing sandviches to the other side.
Everyone was ready. Except for a certain Australian, who was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, Jack quickly made an appearance, running through the thick snow to meet them, hand securing his hat to his head as he huffed and puffed, clearly red faced despite the wintery chill. Less fortunately, the Sniper brought them bad news:
"Huff...it's a right shocking scene up ahead...puff...huff...was lookin' around through my scope, trying to see if there was anything coming towards us..."
Jack coughed and wheezed, bent over, before straightening up again and continuing.
"Found myself a good high spot for sniping and noted that for a little while, with no snow falling, my visibility was a bit better. Not sure exactly what I saw, but there were lots of them: small, shiny, coming towards us. Not only that, but I heard a great whizzing noise and BOOM! Some large sphere made a right mess o' some trees to the East. Dunno what it was, but I saw more of the silver things emerging from the woods near where that thing had landed."
The Australian, fully regaining his breath, pulled out his crossbow and notched a single arrow into place.
"...Let's go mates, before they get us."
###
They were robots. Most were at least vaguely humanoid and were just above half the average height of a man. And there were absolutely tons of them, their shiny metallic grey quickly losing its shine and dulling as they marched through the mountains, the snow slowly started to fall heavier and heavier. Faced with this second onslaught, this time not of mere mortal men, but mass-produced machines, the team readied their weapons, stood their ground and one amongst them smiled.
The American Soldier's smile grew and hefting his rocket launcher into position he looked upwards into the darkening sky and then into the distance at the mass of steel approaching. Eyes shifted swiftly under his helmet as his mind worked until finally, with a sudden snap to his conclusion, he stood at full height and challenged the growing wind with his own voice:
"Listen up men! We are facing an unknown enemy in harsh conditions with limited supplies, I need us two split up to deal with this threat. Kevin and Gabriel, I want you to get your skinny asses out there and give us some information on this robot menace. Jack, you hippy Aussie slacker! I need you to secure a high vantage point, relay what you can see and eliminate any key threats. Grigori, I need you to backup the main offensive team and continue to transport the trailer. The rest of you maggots are with me! Try to stay close to the trailer and maintain radio contact. Destroy these robots from the future who are here to take our American jobs! CHARGE!"
His orders issued, Jane stomped ahead, firing a rocket at his feet, launching himself up into the air and creating a snow-less crater in the earth. The wind rushing past his ears as he soared through the air, Soldier screamed his war cry and launched his aerial assault at the confused machines below, scattering groups of them into little more than scrap with his precision barrages.
The rest of the team simply stood there bewildered until Isaac coughed and got their attention.
"Well...dunno what that was all about, but the man's got the right idea and apart from that bit at the end, his orders make sense. Be careful, in these conditions visibility will be greatly reduced, as will communication distance. If another storm comes over, we may lose radio altogether. Keep this in mind and return closer to the trailer if you lose contact."
A shrug and then everyone went their separate ways, the Scout vanishing in a blur of motion as the Spy simply vanished, the Sniper trudging off to one side, firing the occasional crossbow bolt into the fray. The Engineers went ahead with the Demoman and Medic to rejoin Soldier, whilst Heavy brought Sasha to bear and brought his bulk and the trailer behind him smashing through the deep snowfall. The Pyro went ahead, melting away snow to clear an easier path for the Heavy, who expressed his thanks, before alternating between the forward group and protecting the trailer.
And so the battle waged on over howling winds and bitter cold. Shot after shot echoed through the mountains, causing countless avalanches as man met machine with fierce fury. For every robot they scattered to the cruel winds, another ten seemed to take their place. They were simple things, unable to deal well with the team's tactics and varied weaponry or the deep snow and complex terrain, but for all their simplicity, their threat was not to be understated.
Jane learned this the hard way when he was bowled over by several familiar looking rockets to his gut, causing him to roll dangerously close to a sheer drop. It was Ewan who picked his battered form up and called for Nils to train his Medigun on the wounded Soldier. Those machines made up for their fragility and simplicity with firepower and sheer numbers. This would not be an easy fight.
###
Dell was having a hard time at things. While he had modified his Frontier Justice and Pistol to have larger clips and hit a little harder, he was finding this onslaught particularly trying on him. The machines were fragile compared to themselves, but they were certainly not pushovers and bullets in particular weren't particularly effective against them. A good shotgun blast at close range destroyed most in a single hit, but some were able to withstand much more punishment and from beyond a certain range the buckshot did very little besides bounce off, forcing him to pick them off with the pistol.
Mini-sentries had been deployed all over the place and were struggling to keep up with the sheer numbers. The sentries were preventing the enemies from getting too close and allowed them to continue to advance even as the machines formed a circle around them but they were too slow at actually destroying them. Even level three sentries were much better suited to handling single or few targets, not madness like this. All too many of his deployed helpers were clicking futilely, ammo spent, before being torn to pieces, the mechanical monstrosities seeming to feed on their metal.
Dropping back to the trailer, he took a few moments to reload his weapons, grab more ammo and replenish the ammo of the sentries attached to the trailer which were currently protecting Grigori from being flanked. They'd avoided loading too many buildings onto it, for fear that it would hinder the Heavy's progress too much. The man's exertions were clearly keeping him warm despite the freezing wind, his minigun spinning and chewing through ammo and foe alike if any were foolish enough to approach and hadn't been gunned down by the sentries yet.
He gave a nod to the Russian before heading out again, jaw set square as he gazed out at the sea of machines flowing against them.
###
Ashley wasn't sure what to make of the situation. The robots seemed to ignore being set on fire, and it took a good few seconds of exposure to the flame, even at close range, before their movements halted and only slag remained. So the Pyro had taken to rushing about the place, flitting from front to rear to sides and then back to the trailer.
It was fortunate that Ashley returned to the trailer so frequently and had been craving out paths with their flames, for the familiar sound of someone (or something) uncloaking had reached their ears and a quick, instinctive squeeze of the trigger led to a heap of melted metal. The drone was almost like that which Isaac had created back at the confrontation at Teufort, capable of cloaking like a Spy and even possessing a knife.
Several more of the Spybots (as the Pyro now affectionately referred to the doomed robots destined to be melted into slag) attempted to strike, both flanking the main attackers of the team and attempting to sabotage the trailer. Heart lightened by burning these sneaky but predictable machines and the thanks of Grigori, Ashley laughed their way back into battle and made a new observation:
It may have took more time than they liked to kill the robots with the flamethrower, but ones that were set alight and then left alone started to smoke, sizzle and slow after a while before expiring.
Interest regained, the Pyro set about simply setting as many on fire as possible, the flames touching the machines only long enough to spark a fire. Dancing from place to place, all around the snowy wastes, Ashley flanked and struck out with the flamethrower's new firing modes, spitting streams of fire and belching fireballs into the masses.
Watching with excitement, the fires spread and the robots became slow, easy prey for the others, often expiring on their own before they could get too close. Absent-mindedly reflecting a barrage of grenades and ignoring the resulting explosion, a smile grew on the pyromaniac's masked face.
###
Ewan was whirling around, the blissful sounds of explosions lighting the fire in his heart as he fired of in all directions. The conditions were dreadful, even damper and colder than the hills of his homeland; the visibility reduced further than even the worst fog as the snow fell and coated them white. But all the same, for all the cold and hard footing and poor vision (which his single eye was not helping with), he couldn't help but find some enjoyment in his work.
His explosives worked very well on the massive clusters of robots, a well placed detonation of some pipebombs leading to mass destruction and the raining of scorched metals onto the earth below. The blasts of his explosives sailing through the air crippled or knocked over those that were not destroyed, making them easy to destroy. He'd noticed that a good few of them used explosives themselves, familiar grenades occasionally landing by him.
Indeed, a lot of the weapons used against them did seem familiar, and as the battle wore on, their enemies grew more dangerous. More and more were equipped with weapons, the variety of robot seemed to grow and many could take a bit more punishment. The Demoman was even taken by surprise once as a large machine stormed out of nowhere on treads, shield and sword in hand. Instincts took over and the Black Scottish Cyclops met the charging foe with a charge of his own, riot shield smashing into the robot, swords clashing and grinding, sparks in the air.
###
Kevin darted to and fro, rolling in the snow and trying not cry out in pain as his back hit sharp rocks beneath the surface. The runner was keeping active, but the chill had sunk into his bones as surely as his legs had sunk into the snow and his fragile frame was taking quite the punishment, from both the weather and the robots.
His modified Force-A-Nature blew apart even the toughest machines he'd faced so far with one or two close-range shots and the smaller bots slowly deactivated when enough nails were embedded in them, but the enemy's durability was not the problem, it was their attack power and numbers.
Scout was good at dodging past enemies and flanking lone opponents; he wasn't as effective ploughing through an endless sea of steel, especially when said steel was packing serious heat on his tail. His speed and reflexes had been enough to get him a good way into the enemy's ranks and so far he'd dodged the countless bullets and explosives and even bursts of flame, but it was only a matter of time.
And all the while, he was frequently chattering into his earpiece radio at anyone within range.
"Damnit, ow, that was close. Who the fuck thought it'd be a good idea to mass-produce freaking robots and give them guns? Is it just me or are they using stuff similar to what we used to have? Hey, is that a...? SHIT! Aw jeez, godamnit, fucking cheap robots using the fucking Liberty Launcher, increased rocket speed my ass! Who do they think they are, the RED Soldier! Crap, sorry Isaac, if you're there, that was a low blow. And another thing-"
Whether anyone was still paying attention to the Boston runner as he continued to go on and on as he slipped through the enemy lines was debatable, but he'd hit on a good point by accident, in typical Scout fashion: the enemy appeared to be using a lot of Mann Co weapons they'd used themselves in the past. Thankfully, they appeared to be slightly watered-down versions (likely due to cost for such sheer numbers) but nonetheless, the weapons left a mark.
"Yo, spook, you got to wherever the hell these guys are coming from yet man? I'm dyin' out here! Hey, Medic! MEEEEEDIIIIIC!"
###
At that moment Gabriel was silent, despite having heard Kevin's question. The Frenchman had indeed been able to get close to what he hoped was the base of these toys. Dropping his cloak a few times he had discovered that his disguises and weapons were useless against these machines, but dropping a sapper caused a surprisingly wide area of effect on them, causing them to short out and collapse. He was sure that with time he could probably find some weak point to strike at with his knife, but time was currently of the essence and the variety in robot design prevented him from finding a common weakness.
Some were humanoid and walked on primitive legs, most used wheels or treads, some were more like simple robots and others were more like animals in nature. They all had different means of attack, many wielding inferior mass-produced copies of Mann Co weapons, while others relied on claws and electrified limbs. And...
They appeared to be coming from large metal spheres partly embedded into the snow and rock. The spheres seemed to act as some sort of home base or miniature production facility. They were guarded by several level two and three sentries, a few of the tougher robot models and oddly, a type he'd yet to see seemed to be maintaining the spheres, almost like an Engineer. And from the spheres, robots continued to come out, numbers vastly exceeding what one could expect from the size of the grey orbs.
Finding a shadowy and dry space underneath an overhanging ledge, Gabriel activated his radio, uncertain if the message would reach his teammates intact, if at all.
"Gentlemen? I have sighted several of the spheres the Sniper reported seeing earlier. They appear to be producing our little robot friends and are guarded fairly well. I will attempt to sabotage what I can but I believe a full assault may be necessary. Ze Scout should look for more of these hidden away somewhere, and if possible, clear a path for Monsieur Sniper to get to a closer vantage point. Ze sentries and guard robots appear to have a very limited area in which they'll attack and should be sitting ducks for long-range attacks."
###
Jack scowled. The snow, whilst still far away from being a blizzard like that they'd trudged through and lost their pursuers in when they came to the abandoned base they'd just left, was enough to be a right pain in the arse. The sheer number of foes, the robots and scrap metal reflecting what little light there was and the cold seeping into his unmoving form made his job both difficult and frustrating.
Moving a little to get the snow off him and get some heat into his bones, he went back to the scope. He'd started to pick up on the differing robot types and unless his eyesight was sorely mistaken, a lot of them appeared to be based on the mercenaries themselves in a way. The rocket launcher users were particularly suicidal and attempted to juggle their opponents with the explosions, whilst the small and swifter bots tried to flank and attack at close range. There was a crazy sort of robot that seemed to be malfunctioning and spitting flames everywhere, including at its fellow machines, that he'd not seen for a while, grenade-launching bots, and kamikaze robots that charged at his teammates.
There was even some sort of strange spider-like contraption that found a good spot to grip into with its claws and then deployed a sniper rifle of its own, the loud gunshots from it eventually alerting the Sniper to its presence and causing him to punch a hole through its body with his high-calibre rounds. He'd been mostly sticking to alerting the main force of any notable changes in the waves of attackers and had managed to find a few that counted as priority targets.
Namely there was a slow moving humanoid robot like the rocket-users who deployed some strange contraption that made horrible beeping whirring noise that could be heard across the frozen battlefield and bathed nearby machines in a strange otherworldly glow. Enemies near this "Buffbot" seemed to be able to shrug off more damage and were more coordinated in their attacks. In a similar vein, there was a fragile flying machine that was rarely seen, but when it descended into the chaos on its rotor blades, it emitted some sort of vapour or mist that seemed to repair damage done to the tougher robots and in some cases augmented them by drawing in scraps of metal to them.
Finally, some waves would contain massive hulking machines which slowly trudged through the terrain; wielding massive miniguns that would tear through his teammates in seconds should they get too close. Such robots were the main target of what little ammunition he had. He idly noted that he'd yet to see anything based off an Engineer or Spy yet, but that the team probably had.
###
Grigori continued to pace on despite his growing tiredness and the relentless swarm of enemies shooting at him. Even now the robots threw themselves at the trailer, torn and blown apart by the sentries and his beloved Sasha. The cold didn't bother Heavy; his concern was instead of Nils, the Medic currently placed by dispenser on the trailer, his beam trailed on the Russian.
The doctor had been slowly worn down by the attacks and when he last came to the trailer, Grigori insisted that the German rest a little. The Dispenser was helping to keep the doctor warm at least and if the attack group ever got wounded the trailer wasn't too far away. Pyro was frequently nearby, lending a hand and watching his back. He was glad Ashley came by to keep him safe and spread some of that fire around, he was fine going through the snow and could look after himself, but another set of eyes and a clear path meant less effort and exhaustion on his part.
Eventually Nils and Ashley left the Heavy to march forwards alone once more, the clicking and whirring of empty sentries causing him to grit his teeth, eyes alert and darting about, minigun revved up and ready for the next little shiny insect stupid enough to challenge him.
The sight of Dell approaching to lend a hand and replenish the sentries was a welcome one.
###
Nils raced through the snow, straining his ears for further radio contact. He was sure he'd heard the Scout calling for him, somewhere far up ahead and he thought he might have heard the Spy too, although the signal had been weak and little more than static had come through. He hated to admit it, but he wasn't faring as well as he'd have liked and he was quickly feeling the effects of the damp and cold.
Running about to keep everyone alive had helped, and on a few occasions, caused him to slip and injure himself, only to look up and see that his fall had helped him avoid an incoming projectile. Whilst he'd tried to make some improvements to the stock Medigun, he simply hadn't had the facilities necessary to do much with it. Moreover, he'd done a little research into the after-effects of the Overcharged Life-Sparker and didn't like the results.
On the plus side, since the Über, everyone seemed to be able to endure much more than their old limits and he was fairly certain he could correct what had gone wrong with the experimental Medigun given proper time and resources. Unfortunately, the Life Sparker had damaged the devices attached to their hearts which allowed them to be Übered in the first place. It was again, something that could be fixed eventually and for the time being he'd simply rigged the Medigun to function more like his broken prototype, the Quick-Fix. The Megaheal, unlike the standard Übercharge or Kritzkrieg, still seemed to work and the rapid healing was still useful for keeping everyone alive.
He doubted that the effects of the fully-overcharged Life Sparker could be fully replicated again, but had discussed a new concept Medigun with Isaac that should prove to be very useful should they live long enough to make a final assault against TF Industries.
And speaking of Isaac...
###
The Crimon Demon was dancing with Death. Everywhere he looked and turned, there were enemies, twisted mutations of the technology he loved ready to be crushed under his boots. He enjoyed building things and had hoped his sentry, dispenser and teleporter technology could help humankind. He may have joined a mercenary team and become used to the killing, but something about weapons of war, let alone actual robots with some limited AI being used, struck him hard.
And from the looks of things, these machines were based off the team themselves and if he'd heard the Spy right, they'd even had the cheek to use his sentry designs to defend their bases, which probably also had some origin from his dispenser designs if his hunch was right. The nerve of them...! The nerve of her...!
Isaac had, over the course of the battle, started to move further and further away from the rest of his group and the trailer. Earlier on he'd made frequent stops to maintain the buildings and even erect a few temporary buildings for the attack team to make use of, or perhaps for the Scout, Spy or Sniper to reach on their travels. These primitive designs, mass-produced and simplistic in their assault, were no match for his mind, heart, body or burning spirit.
He did not feel the cold; his body was too warm for the wind to steal. He did not slow his advance, the snow melted away by his thrusters as he charged. He did not fall prey to his enemy's onslaught, their repetitive patterns and tactics easy to predict and exploit the machines easy to turn against each other with proper use of terrain.
And he did not waver in his resolve, his spirit too strong and too invested in all he had done to even let this faze him. His team had faced a much worse nightmare than this to keep him alive, his team had together taken down Saxton Hale, his own sword landing the finishing blow the came from the heavens and shattered the earth itself. His team were giving their all and it was high time he repaid the favour!
He had damaged his systems in his showdown with Hale and had rested and done what repairs he could. The Demon was not able to unleash his almighty Über-Overdrive into the world again, but who said he had to? Isaac had instead reworked his systems so that the Übercharge instead helped replenish his normal Overdrives and his own energy faster.
His shotgun erupted thunder with a mighty boom that shattered the darkness, the pieces of scrap metal, so tiny and sparkling in what little light made it past the clouds, falling to the earth so gently like the snowflakes alongside them.
His chaingun whirred and spat fire, melting and exploding countless enemies as he calmly traced a path through their ranks, line after line of machines falling to his continuous fire, the cold air slowly the overheating of the weapon.
Over the radio he heard the rest of the team coming together, everybody ready for the push forward. Jane was raring to go, his own enthusiasm and vigour audible over the wind and explosions and the sounds of countless mechanical limbs, Gabriel was in position to start sapping the enemy's defences, Jack was advancing with the main group, firing his pistols and crossbow whilst searching for a forward sniping position overlooking the spheres. Kevin had found some of the other spheres, noting their slow production of enemies and was ready to distract the easily exploitable AI of the machines. Grigori had stopped pulling the trailer, leaving the sentries to defend as he joined for the charge, Ashley and Nils by his side, the former to watch everyone's back for ambushes and the latter to keep them all alive, having only just returned from healing the Scout. Ewan had his blade at the ready and Dell was constructing some level three sentries, ready to wrangle them and sick of the fighting.
They were waiting for him.
Isaac smiled, face shadowed as the snow started to ease off, the sky slowly lightening. With a single word he gave the command and activated his Overdrive.
And with that, the fury of Hellfire was unleashed upon the land of snow and rock and shattered steel.
###
At TF Industries, the Administrator seethed and scowled, watching as the last monitor fizzled out into static. She had hunted them with her own elite and with massive bounties on their heads. She had called in the most brutal and seemingly inhuman man on the planet, a man who regularly jumped out of aircraft with parachutes and wrestled dangerous animals for fun. She had finally amassed armies from around the world and waged a constant barrage of fury and death upon them, cutting off all escape and seemingly securing her victory.
She had lost them and a huge chunk of her worldwide power, lost them as they retreated into a horrific storm, broken and bleeding. They should be dead. She had launched her prototype robotic warriors at them, based on years of data from the RED vs BLU conflict and cutting-edge technology that even Australia had yet to make full use of. They should be dead
And yet they were not dead, not in the slightest. The team was a well-coordinated unit, they'd been able to thin off her army's numbers and find ways to counter them even as her Production Spheres worked frantically to replenish lost numbers. They'd located all the spheres and with the final charge, had overwhelmed her forces.
Not overwhelmed through numbers, but a different sort of advantage entirely. Their conviction, their teamwork, their power, their variety of attacks...it was all too much. As the Heavybot defenders were distracted by rockets and bullets and grenades and that annoying Scout, their Sniper took them out. As the sentries whirred to face the attackers, the Spy disabled them. As the Spheres produced new troops, well-placed pipebombs destroyed the new batch in one swoop. As the remaining machines swarmed them, that mumbling abomination of a Pyro spewed fired and that nutcase Soldier blasted them apart, leaving only small melting groups of what had once been a wall of robots. Tougher attackers were worn down with minigun fire, her own Snipespiders were distracted and shot to pieces by the Scout, flanking attacks were halted by sentries and any damage she did do was reversed by that damn Medic!
And at the centre of it all, leading the charge was that thrice-accursed Engineer, that former RED who had somehow united the mercenaries and turned them against her. They eventually, despite the efforts of her Engiebots, destroyed every last Production Sphere and hunted down the few machines that remained, including a malfunctioning Spyderbot and the one Pyromachiniac (why had she made those anyway, they were more danger to the rest of her forces than to the mercenaries) who'd survived by wandering off and setting a tree alight.
This did not bode well. She would not let all her planning and plotting and scheming be foiled by mere mortal men previously under her command! She would not lose and sooner or later, this so-called "Team Fortress" would be in her cold, steel grasp.
And. They. Would. DIE!
###
The world lightens, sunlight piercing through the clouds once more, dancing over an endless sea of metal embedded in the snow, a thin layer of frost only making the scene sparkle so much more.
The March of the Machines is over, for now. Instead, men like no other find their footing as they try to descend, destruction eternally in their wake.
For every impossible obstacle, there is a way forwards. For every hardship there is a lesson. For every fall there is the chance to climb up again.
It is not a case of whether these men will ever find their freedom, but rather how they obtain it. Will they earn their peace and end corruption? Will they fall and find their goal in death? Or...
Will the world go up in flames, all hell unleashed as the world throws all it can at those mere mortals who simply refuse to die?
...the battle is not over yet, another foe awaits them in their descent...
Author's notes: I'll try and make sure I have another update up and ready in a week's time, hopefully less. Hopefully that didn't drag on too long. Oh and been meaning to mention this for a while, but apparently quite a few tracks by "Two Steps From Hell" work with some of the more action-packed chapters. "To Glory" works pretty well as a theme for whenever Isaac does something particularly awesome.