GATE: the clash of the titans

by Qun Nguyn1

A cataclysmic event has struck the Earth. An accident caused by the Empire expansionist dream. Reason and compassion , arrogant and ignorant which one will be the winner. Earth Alliance vs The Holy Empire. Science vs Magic. The power of the thousand sun vs The Beast of Apocalypse. Let the clash of Titans begin.

17. Chapter 17: Deus Vult pt4

Chapter 17 : Deus Vult pt4

With most of the world's shipyards, aircraft and car manufacturers were converted to military usage, long range transportation of people and goods became quite difficult. To solve this problem, the world government encouraged the use of public transport and built Trans- Global Highway.

Trans- Global Highway: A world-spanning rapid transit-system that link all six of the inhabited continents on Earth and allow entire population groups to conveniently commute hundreds or even thousands of miles to perform work where it was needed, without impinging on the cultural values of host populations.

The system took five years from 2022 to 2027 to build and cost about 10 trillions USD.

Several major railway projects link most of the world into a global rail network, making it possible to travel from Patagonia to London entirely by train. Cars could drive from Australia to California via Russia and Alaska. People from New York would also be able to drive to London via Greenland.

The Trans-Global Highway links London, New York and Beijing by a high-speed express line, taking in the EU and Russia en route. The extends east into the Trans-Arctic line which crosses the Bering Strait Bridge and links into the rail networks of the Americas, extending from Alaska to Patagonia in the Trans-American Railway. South from the Trans-Asian line branch the railways which link to the Trans-Africa line which runs from the Middle East down to Cape Town, and further east branches run across Iran and the Himalayas into India, linking it too into the global rail network.

Major Components:

- Channel Tunnel

- AmerAsian Peace Tunnel

- Japan Korea Tunnel

- Hokkaidō Sakhalin Asia Tunnel

- Taiwan Strait Tunnel

- Gibraltar Tunnel

- Strait of Sicily Tunnel

- Sunda Strait Bridge

- Saudi-Egypt Causeway

- Bridge of the Horns

- Darién Railway

- Australia–Papua New Guinea Tunnel

- Transatlantic Tunnel

Recap: The fierce war between the United Earth Alliance and the Holy Darwinian Empire was suddenly interrupted by the incursion of Chaos Demon Army. Now a shaky alliance between the UEADF and the Holy Order Militant have to joint force to defeat this new enemy, for the Fate of the world.

---

Recon Team Tango One-Five, Wadina Town, Southern Lemuria ,12 hours ago.

"Control, we have Demons, column advancing along the Pipeline Route. Estimated battalion force with company-level harpy cover."

"Very good. Engage and harass."

Lieutenant Tran Thi Kim Ngan AKA "The Iron Bitch" acknowledged, the transferred her attention back to the mast-mounted sight on her AT-99 "Scorpion" helicopter. A deft touch on the controls and the aircraft rose slightly so that the ball of the sight just peaked over the ridge. The picture hadn't changed much, even though the column was mounted on the rhinolobsters, they were moving slowly.

Well, slowly by United Indochina Army standards, The Iron Bitch guessed that by medieval standards they were fairly galloping along. That was excruciatingly slow when compared with the way the First Armored Joint Task Force was moving up.

A long rectangle of rhinolobsters, each with its rider and a small group out in front. They'd have to be the command group. The primary subject of interest, the cream of the crop in this target-rich environment. Eliminate the command structure first, leave the combat elements floundering around without orders. It was a process the United Indochina Army called 'shaping the battlefield'. "Tango Leader to all Tango birds. Select Shǎndiàn Huǒ Shén magic missiles, target the command group in front, ripple fire 20 magic guided missiles."

Spaced out down the wadi, the three Little Birds gunner their engines slightly and lifted up still further. The column ahead was oblivious to their existence, even when the laser target designators locked into place. On her display, The Iron Bitch could even see the designated targets starting to shift and scratch as the lasers irritated their skins.

Then, a gentle squeeze on the firing button and the first salvo of the Shǎndiàn Huǒ Shén streaked off across the savanna. Off to her left, a split second later, Tango-one-five-Bravo fired its first salvo of magic missile with Tango-one-five-Charlie following an instant after that. The Iron Bitch had already selected her next target when she fired her second salvo of magic missile, as soon as she saw the explosions from the first strike she swung the laser to her selected victim and watched the Shǎndiàn Huǒ Shén missile obediently switch targets. The explosions four thousand yards away seemed an almost continuous rolling thunder as the 60 missiles devastated the command group.

"All Tango-One-Five elements, jobs done, let's get out of here."

"We got a problem Ninja."

The Iron Bitch looked across at the burning patch of rocks where the Demon command group had been. Above it the harpies were heading for the position of her three Little Birds, coming in very, very fast.

"Bug out, everybody bug out now. Max speed." She rammed the throttles forward, swinging her helicopter into its high-speed position, trying to get away from the cloud of harpies that was closing on her.

"No good Ninja. They're faster than us."

The Iron Bitch didn't acknowledge, she didn't have to. The T-99 could do about 360 miles per hour flat out and the harpies were closing the range. She pulled back and swung the nose round, flipping her armament selector switch to the pair of Fēi lóng magic missiles mounted on the side of her cockpit.

The annunciator tone was mixed, even in the cold of a winded savanna night, they were having difficulty locking on. It was no good, whatever lock they had would have to do. She fired into the mass of harpies, watching as one missile went through the formation without exploding, the other struck home and she saw a harpy briefly outlined in fire as the Fēi lóng magic missile tore into it.

There was another flare as well, but The Iron Bitch had no time to congratulate herself or anybody else. She was turning away, diving, obeying the old rule, no matter how little height you have, trade height for speed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Tango-one-five-Charlie had left it too late. The Little Bird was engulfed in jets of fire from the harpies, its fuel tanks exploded and the flaming wreckage fell out of the sky to earth.

She was back in the wadi, heading away from the cloud of harpies, grimly aware they were closing in on her."Control, engaged Demons, command group badly hit. We are under attack by company-strength harpies, Charlie is already down. Two harpies down. Issue is in doubt.

Tell others, don't close in on harpies."

Duty done, The Iron Bitch spun her helicopter again and went straight at the formation of harpies pursuing her, her two gatling guns blazing a long, long burst. It registered briefly that there were two piles of burning wreckage on the savanna floor now and that she was alone. Bravo had gone. So had at least 12 more harpies, torn apart by the stream of bullets from her 30mm gatling guns.

Then, there was a clank and silence, she'd run out of ammunition. The harpies were on her, clinging to the airframe, tearing at it with their claws, kicking at the skin with their hooves. One was clinging to the cockpit canopy, smashing at it with its claws, trying to tear its way in. She could see the demented, screaming hate on its face, she could smell the stink of jet fuel as the harpies tore their way into the Little Bird's structure. That was all she saw and smelt because that was when Tango-one-five-Alpha exploded.

Cavalry Force, Left Flank of the Army of Abigor, Tel Ash Sha, Southern Lemuria.

They were hunched up, backs bent, heads down, looking for all the world as if they were trying to walk through some ferocious storm. Same grim determination to find shelter. And that wasn't a bad comparison thought Zorankalirtagap, that's what they were. Facing a storm that slaughtered everything in its path. Ever since his Beast had been killed, Zorankalirtagap had been advancing with the infantry against the hideous magic of the Earth's humans.

He caught his breath, suddenly the sky behind the humans had turned white again, white shot with fire as their fire-lances sped towards the floundering demon advance. He watched the sight with fear in his heart, then sighed slightly as it descended on the flank of the line, far from his position. It happened again, the same rippling cloud of explosions that left no demons standing when it cleared. Anything was better than the fire lances, even the magic bolts that screamed and caused the ground to erupt under their feet.

There was something new, from a position in front of them, more human chariots had appeared, barely visible with just a small box over the ridgeline. For all their skills, the Terran Army were cowards, Zorankalirtagap consoled himself with that thought, they didn't stand proud and fight, they hid in hollows and dips in the ground to kill. And kill, and kill, and kill thought Zorankalirtagap grimly. Oh yes, they were very good at that.

The metal boxes fired fire-lances at a group of demons on Zorankalirtagap's right. The targets scattered but it did them no good. They'd been lucky enough to escape the fire-lances and the bolts but these new weapons were different. As Zorankalirtagap watched appalled, the fire-lances changed course to follow their targets.

Even those who forget their honor and tookcover in dips like humans could not save themselves, the fire lances were following them into the cover they had sought. It was more than flesh and blood, even demonic flesh and blood could stand. The leading demons started to edge backwards, even as the ones behind continued to push forward. The advance ground to a halt in the chaos.

The Victorian Guards, Acrifa Plain, Southern Lemuria

"Air Raid Warning Red! Red! Red!" The scream over the radio was just in time. A flock of about 45,000 harpies had managed to assemble themselves from the massacre in the skies over the battlefield and attacked the tanks sitting on the ridgeline. Bass could feel his tank lurch as a group of them landed on it, heard their claws scrabbling at the armor. His radio went dead, at a guess, he thought the antenna had probably been ripped off by the harpies. Then he heard a ringing noise, the sound of machine gun fire bouncing of armor plate. The Black Knights IFV were machine-gunning the tanks in an effort todrive the harpies off them.

Bass looked through his vision blocks, some were masked by clawed hands trying to rip them open but he could see Bravo-Three was also covered with harpies, the tracers from three Black Knights converging on it as the infantry protected the tanks from the sudden assault. On a sudden thought, Bass looked up and made sure his hatch was firmly clamped shut.

One harpy was driven off the tank by the fire, it exploded in the air as the Black Knight fired a few rounds from its 50mm Bushmaster gun into it. Others were dying as they were shot up by the Black Knight's coaxial chain guns. That was creating a new problem, Bass could see Bravo-Three was starting to smoke, the acid from the harpy's blood probably. The paint on the Type-47 Sheridan MBTs would resist the acid but there were other things out there that could be vulnerable.

The tanks were backing up. Bass hadn't received any orders but with his radio down, it was a fair guess they were out so he joined in the movement. Like the other tanks, he popped his smoke launchers, the choking white fumes driving off the remaining harpies. By the time the Demons swarmed over the positions he had once held, the Type-47 Sheridan MBTs were back behind the next ridgeline.

Headquarters, British 12th Army Groups, Wadi Town, Southern Lemuria

General John Carlson looked at his map, his front line had been driven in, the tanks and armored infantry pushed back to the next defense positions. That left the Demons spread out between the wire and the next defense line in a vast disorganized mass. He picked up his radio, it was already set to the right frequency.

"Now, General Soleimani, now's your time. Put every gun to them Sir, every gun."

"Getting a bit Wellingtonian aren't we?"

The Iranian General's voice was urbane and slightly amused. Then his division spoke for him. Outside the sky to Carlson's left turned white as the massed batteries of Arabian PHL-18 380mm multiple rocket launchers opened fire, pouring their rockets into the Demon's flank and rear. Under the white cloud was a black one as the Chariot MBTs gunned their engines and started their charge at the enemy.

306th Legion, Eastern Flank, Abigor's Army

The onslaught was totally unexpected, the enemy were in retreat, covered by the fog they had conjured up. Then, somehow, they had poured a new mass of fire into the right flank and rear of the demon forces. Krykojanklawas looked over to the left and saw the black cloud as something crossed the ridgeline. He focused his eyes and almost screamed in horror at what he saw.

"The Terrans have Iron Chariots!"

He wasn't the only one. Others saw the more than 32,000 Chariot II tanks pouring over the defense lines, moving terrifyingly fast through the grassland. They saw them spit fire, the blaze rippling along their front line as the shots went on their way to tear into the demonic ranks. Every demon sensed the new chariots andknew the truth. they were made of iron. Not just any iron but some sort of super iron. The demons recoiled from their old enemy, it was just too much. After the pounding, the rockets the mines, the wire, their nerve broke.

Headquarters of Merafawlazes, Commander, Western Flank, Abigor's Army

Merafawlazes had learned much about war in the last few hours. He had learned that cavalry could no longer charge an enemy. He learned that heavy artillery was the great killer no matter whether the targets were demons or humans. He had learned that his soldiers were helpless against super-heavy tanks. He had learned that the Terran Army were the supreme masters of mass killing and were only too keen to practice their art. Now he learned that the moment an Army disintegrates and changes from a defeated force to a panicked mob can be measured with exquisite precision.

The French Army at Waterloo disintegrated at precisely 8:15 pm, the Union Army at First Bull Run at precisely 4:20 pm. Merafawlazes saw his army disintegrate with exactly the same precision. As the great iron chariots of the humans emerged from their hiding places, his army dissolved into chaos, running for the rear. The Iron Chariots followed them and they could move much faster than even the panic-stricken demons. That was when he had his next lesson. An Army suffers heavier casualties when it breaks than it does when it stands.

Type-92 Chamberlains Charlie-Three, Tel Ash Sha, Southern Lemuria.

There was thirty dead an' wounded on the ground we wouldn't keep– No, there wasn't more than twenty when the front begun to go; But all along the line o' flight they cut us up like sheep, An' that was all we gained by doin' so.

The Type-92 crested the ground smoothly, the great barrel of its gun held in place by the stabilization system. There was hardly any need to use it, the Demons were running for the rear, the Chamberlains tanks spraying them with fire from their coaxial and turret-top machine guns. In the driver's seat, SPC Brungardt saw a wounded Demon fall to the ground in front of the racing tank. The 141 ton Chamberlain didn't even lurch as it drove over the body. Brungardt thumbed his intercom button. "Hey guys guess what. Demons go crunch too."

Operation Trinity Headquarters, Alnus, Lemuria.

Once again, Supreme Commander Nuttall was standing before the great screen in his command center, only this time it was linked directly to the Pentagon, the White House and over 190 capitals around the world. The screen showed President Dirrel B Johnson, Defense Secretary David Petraeus and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo but he knew that many, many more people were watching than that.

"Sir, we have the initial reports from the battles on the flanks in. We have successfully routed both flanking forces. In the West, the First Armored is already outflanking the Demon main body and moving into positions to its west. In the East, the Arabian Shamshar Armored Joint Task Force under General Qasem Soleimani is also outflanking the enemy and we expect it will link up with the First Armored sometime tomorrow. At that point, the enemy main body will be completely encircled. Our casualties have been remarkably light. 1056 main battle tanks, 1031 armored fighting vehicles, 2031 HEMTT trucks and of all the soldiers involved in the fighting, only twenty five thousand have lost their lives. As far as we can tell at this time, all our losses were victims of harpy attacks."

"Enemy casualties?" Secretary Petraeus spoke urgently.

"We're not into body counts Sir, not after The Great Imperial Air Strike, and the enemy dead are so smashed up it's impossible to tell how many there are. Details of the pursuit through the night are also only just coming in and it appears the enemy believed that fighting would stop at dusk. We didn't oblige them of course, we kept going and made it a twenty-four hour battle. During the process, we overran a lot of Demons who had settled down for the night. So I cannot give you a figure I would be confident with."

"An estimate, a guess, anything?"

"At a conservative estimate, I would say the enemy cannot have lost less than 90 million dead, probably many more. What's left of the flanking forces is falling back on their main body. That main body is still advancing on the center of our line, we expect them to launch their attacks in a few hours. We'll be concentrating all of our airpower to sweep the sky clean of harpies. Once we've done that, the ground forces can repeat the punishment we handed out yesterday. If anything the balance of forces is more favorable to us in the center than it was on the flanks. Once the harpies are out of the way, we can start using our helicopters over the battlefield again."

"How are your munitions supplies holding up?" Petraeus's voice was concerned.

"Very well Sir, thanks to the Holy Order of Eden, we are well-supplied here, we built up an impressive stockpile in case the Falmartian Orthodox Church attacked us and they built up an equally massive stockpile in case the Chaos Demon invaded them.

Some, not much but some, of the stocks are interchangeable and the Empire are flying in more. There's a couple of Floating Ship of the Heavens here now, unloading rockets for the Arab artillery.

Secretary Petraeus Sir, may I ask how the production ramp-up is proceeding? We're OK for ground forces ammunition but we're running through air-to-air missiles at a terrifying rate even with the large supply of magic missiles from the Holy Empire. After tomorrow we're going to be real short."

"Not well General. The problem is that so much of the need is inter-related. The AIM-125 is a good example, we're accelerating production of the missile as fast as we can but we're short of guidance systems. We've got AIM-125 airframes backing up out of the door waiting for the guidance modules.

Raytheon have come up with a partial fix, they've designed a new weapon, the AIR-125. Essentially its an AIM-125 with a simple inertial stabilization system that keeps it flying straight and level. They've packed it with a warhead that's three times more powerful than the AIM-125 and given it a fast-burn motor for high speed. It can be carried on a standard triple ejector rack in place of a single AIM-125. Raytheon will build as many AIM-125s as they can get guidance modules for and the rest will be AIR-125s.

"It's the same across the board I fear. We'll get it straightened out but we're running off stocks until we do."

On the screen, Nuttall nodded. It was more or less what he has suspected."

White House Conference Room, Washington DC

"Thank you General Nuttall. Doctor Surlethe, what are the results from our investigations of the Demons."

"They're going to start flooding in fast now Sir. We've had only limited samples to work with to date but now, with all this in Lemuria, that's going to change. And we've got the demon lord Daelmara that defected. We could learn a lot simply by dissecting her."

"No way." Director of National Intelligence John Ratcliffe jumped straight on the idea. "She's the first live Demon we've got our hands on. We need to talk to her, she knows how the Eye of Terror is organized, what its chains of command are, what its social and political structures are like. We're not dealing with a different country here, or even a different world like Falmart. We're dealing with an entirely different dimension. We need to know how that dimension works, what its economy is like, if indeed it has an economy. We need to know what sort of enemy we are fighting and what his resources are like. We can't get any of that from her dissected corpse."

"And suppose she won't tell you?" Doctor Surlethe jumped straight back.

"We could always waterboard her?" said Secretary Petraeus

"How do you know she can't breath water?" Secretary Pompeo's voice was droll.

"Exactly my point." Surlethe was getting impassioned. "Military and political data is all very well, economic information too, but first we need to know much more about the Demons themselves. How do they work? Can we get some idea of what powers they take for granted but seem magical to us? I'm sorry Don, but investigation of the Demons themselves must come first. Which is rather unfortunate for her of course."

"Gentlemen." The room quieted as President Dirrel B Johnson spoke." You are forgetting that this Dark Sorcerer came over to us on a promise that she would not be ill-treated. We did not make that promise but it was made to her on our behalf by our allies. We cannot go back on our word. We must not."

"She didn't defect voluntarily, she had a ring of holy weapons from the Zeroth Division pointed at her."

"I know. If she'd fought, she'd still probably have killed some of those Knights. She chose not to."

"Sir." General Nuttall spoke from the screen. "There is a practical side to this as well. We have one defector who came over on a promise of good treatment. How we treat her may very well decide how many more Demons decide to surrender or, even better, defect. If they get the idea that surrendering is a way out from certain death facing our tanks and artillery, it might end this war more quickly. It may very well mean fewer of our people get killed. Treating surrendered enemy personnel with extreme brutality has never worked to the favor of those committing such acts."

"I agree." Secretary Petraeus added his emphasis. "We've danced on a thin line during the War on Terror and shot ourselves in the foot doing it. We should not repeat that mistake."

"General, Secretary Petraeus, your practical comments add weight to my instincts on this. Doctor Surlethe, you may investigate the witch using non-invasive methods provided they do not inflict harm upon her. You may, with her consent, take blood samples etc. But there will be no dissection, is that clear?" Surlethe nodded. Unhappily but still a nod.

"Mister Randi, how is your end of this going?" President Dirrel asked James Randi Director of Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.

"Very well Sir, we made a breakthrough today. A young…." Randi hesitated and then decided to keep going. "… angel , prioress Mizari, came in, she can see in to the Eye of Terror. We have her trying to contact some of our deceased personnel now. We have another young lady, sister Tyuwaru, a blue feather headed serine, who can get into the mind of a demon and she's exploiting that right now. As soon as we can work out how to expand that from talking to one demon into talking to all of them at one, we'll launch Radio Free Underworld."

Andrews Air Force Base, Lemuria, Falmart.

Daelmara was utterly bewildered. She'd been on Falmart not so long ago, a mere couple of centuries, but she'd had nothing like these experiences then. How had all these machines suddenly appeared? She'd flown for hours in a huge sky chariot, one loaded down with crates of more things called supplies. The crew had been nice to her of course, that was inevitable, they'd offered her food and drink and she'd accepted it even though it wouldn't quench her appetite much. Her body craved raw meat, preferably torn from a still-living body and the thing she'd been given didn't even come close. Just what was a 'hot pocket' anyway?

She could have adapted more easily to the sights around her if there weren't so many of them. The military base she had been assigned to was bad enough, all those tiny chariots racing around, but this great field was full of the huge Sky Chariots. Even as she watched, a different one was coming in to land. To her incredulous eyes, it changed even while it did so, its swept-backwings suddenly swinging forward to reach straight out. Then it touched down on the long black strip and started to slow. Immediately a band started playing, making her jump.

"Yeah, bands do that." The Air Force policeman watching her was sympathetic. Of course. Her mind-mask didn't work any more but the miasma was still doing its job of creating sympathy with the humans around her. "It's the 32nd Tactical Fighter Wing standing up. That's the first Tu-688 to join the Italian Air Force."

None of that made much sense to Daelmara. She did note one thing though, the Sky Chariot that had brought her was painted light gray, the one that had just landed was a cloudy mix of gray and orange-red. It never occurred to her that its paint job was an exact match to the skies in the Eye of Terror.

A long black ground chariot had pulled up and she was escorted into the back seat. The driver looked at her with hate that quickly faded to mild affection. The door closed behind her and the chariot pulled away. Daelmara couldn't see where the horses were hidden. Still, it didn't matter. What did matter was that she was safe. She quickly recalled the split second of blind panic when she looked at the ring of divine weapons pointed at her and knew death was but a split second away.

Miasma had done its work, Daelmara didn't know it but the panic had kicked her glands into working overtime and secreting human pheromones that created sympathy for her with everybody around. That had bought her just enough time. She'd worked her situation out with speed and hedged her bets by surrendering. If the Demon Army won, she wouldhave fulfilled her mission and penetrated the enemy leadership, gaining vital information. She would have done her duty and be rewarded. If the Earth Alliance won, and looking around her Daelmara had an unpleasant feeling they might, she would be the first defector and would also be well-rewarded. No matter who won, she would be safe.

On the Shore of the Styx, Fifth Ring, Eye of Terror

The six newcomers followed the woman along the banks of the river Styx. She moved swiftly and surely, as though she'd been along this way a thousand times before. As they waded through the mud, she spoke back over her shoulder:"You're lucky they put you here in this part of the Styx. This ring is ten miles across; you could have been walking for several days to get to Dis."

"What's Dis?" Tran Thi Kim Ngan asked.

"Abbadon's home base. His palace is there, all the administration is run out of there as well. It surrounds the whole of this land like a wall."

"And you're taking us there?" Kim Ngan's voice was loaded with suspicion.

"Of course," said the woman. "That's where the resistance is headquartered."

"Tell us about the resistance."

The woman smiled."It's hard to know where to start. You see, the resistance has a long history; it's been around almost as long as I have."

"And how old are you? And, who are you?" Kim Ngan's growing suspicion and dislike for this woman made getting an answer very urgent."

"I've been dead for ten thousand years." The woman laughed at the expression on their faces. "Why are you so surprised? Once you're dead, you're effectively immortal; aging is slowed by orders of magnitude, and you're healthy and robust so the torment doesn't put you under. As for who I am, you may have heard of me. My name is Rahabyy. Commander of the 385th Division, 5th Corps, 12th Imperial Army in charged of protecting capital Sadera." The woman's voice was nostalgic. "I protected my country to in the 4th Black Crusade and the Chaos Demons tossed me down here after a fierce battle ."

"So, if there's been a resistance for all these years, why hasn't the Demon of Chaos been overthrown?"

"It can't be. This is it, there's nothing more. We can't overthrow the order here. All we can do is try to disappear, save ourselves from torment. That's not as hard as it sounds, Hell is a big place, and it takes a long time to move around in it or communicate. I've just finished a two-month walk from Dis down to Cocytus, up to the first ring, and back. The fact that there are constant patrols is a real problem, and though they don't really go out of their way to look, if they see anything untoward, they light on it immediately. And one demon is more than a match for four or five people."

"Then how did we manage to take down that Demon?"

"To be blunt, you got lucky. He came down for a spot of torture and fun, and you surprised him before he could react. If he'd seen you guys free before you were on him, he'd have called for some help and then zapped you with lightning from a distance."

Once again, the members of Tango-one-five exchanged glances. The picture they were getting was that the so-called resistance wasn't resisting at all. At best they were an escape group, an underground railway that tried to keep themselves away from the pits that made up the rings of hell. It seemed as if the people here had accepted the line that this was the ultimate end of things, that any effort to change it was doomed to futility.

Kim Ngan looked around. They were on the edge of the river, if it could be called that. It was more like a rippling strip of clear water through the mucky water surrounding it. Ahead of them, through the vile, thick mist, they saw a tall, stone tower looming. Rahaby turned and put a finger to her lips, then sank lower into the mist, crouching into the mud. She moved forward slowly.

Kim Ngan followed suit, but kept looking around. The tower moved closer and closer, and she looked up. At the top, suddenly, an flare burst into existence with a foomp. The light from the signal fire lit everything around them in a dull orange glow, making the mist look a bit like tomato soup. Abruptly, their guide ducked under the muck. Kim Ngan caught a glimpse of a towering silhouette looming through the mist before she followed suit– except, she didn't duck all the way. Instead, she sank down as far as she could go while keeping her face above the surface of the mud. Simultaneously, she shrank back toward a clump of stringy, greasy grass.

The Demon passed within five feet of her. It was mounted on what looked like an oversized rhinoceros with a scorpion-tail arched overhead– A rhinolobster, she recognized it an instant later from that last mission in Lemuria, which was wading through the swamp. Looking neither left nor right, the Demon reined his mount forward when it sniffed and started at something, and kept moving until the mist had swallowed it. The Demon itself had been huge, twice the height and probably four or five times the weight of the one they'd killed back there.

Rahaby surfaced from the mud as the rest of the Tango flight members came up for air.

"If you'd attacked him, you'd have had no chance," she said.

Though that was all, the words had clearly been aimed at Kim Ngan who had her own thoughts on the matter.

It was very easy to think of ten thousand reasons why something could not be done, it took a different mindset to think of the way it could be achieved. Kim Ngan had her own ideas there, she'd thought of two ways of taking the mounted patrol down already, although much depended on what could be found locally. She'd seen the black outcrops that spoke of coal and coal meant powdered carbon. This whole area was volcanic, and that meant sulfur. Now, if there was only some saltpeter around, they had the start of an IED.

"Keep a look out for yellow deposits." She whispered to her people.

"Ahead of you Ninja. Already been looking. There's some in the rocks. We're two for three so far. And there's some pretty crystals that might be good for fragments."

They moved on for a while before Rahaby broke silence and asked,"So, what are things like back topside?"

Thai Hung piped up."We were all pilots in the 160th SpecOps in Viet Nam when the Great War broke out. Lost a tenth of the regiment in the following battles, then didn't do much of anything until the hellgate opened in southern Lemuria and we got sent out to take a look at the Demon advance. Took down the command structure of a regiment, then got outrun by harpies and taken down."

The woman was smiling bemusedly."You lost me at 'Great War',"

Kim Ngan exchanged glances with Thai Hung."You don't know about the Great War ?"

"No, not about this Great War. It wouldn't have been the first Great War you know."

"Basically, the Empire opened a GATE to our homeworld Earth, a terrible tragedy happened, a lot of people died, the brass told everyone to go to war, and so we started to fight. Doing pretty good too , and on top of that the Demons started to appear so now we are fighting them too, with the help of the Holy Order of Eden. " Kim Ngan shruged.

There was a bridge coming up out of the thinning mist now, next to the road they'd been wading beside for some time.

Rahaby turned and said,"Stay low and follow me single-file."

She crouched and moved beside the road to the base of the bridge, then slipped underneath. The members of Tango flight followed suit. There, bolted to the base of the bridge, was a rope that stretched across the river beneath the arch of the roadway. The woman took hold of the rope and started pulling herself hand-over-hand across the river. Kim Ngan looked at Thai Hung, shrugged, and followed.

On the far side, Rahaby crouched and hissed, "Okay, this is the most dangerous part. The walls that separate the fourth and fifth circles of Terror are right up on the other side of this embankment, and they are constantly manned. The guards are vigilant and they will see you if you poke your head up, so you stay low and follow me as fast as you can."

Kim Ngan nodded. SERE– still in the "evade" part. Rahaby turned and, crouching, ran to a rock outcropping sticking up several dozen meters away. She looked around, then beckoned. Single-file, the escaped soldiers followed, making sure to stay crouched. They followed her from formation to formation, putting distance between them and the bridge as quickly as possible. At one large boulder, they stopped, and Rahaby pointed back.

Just at the edge of vision, the bridge stretched back into the mist covering the far shore of the Styx; across it snaked a long, black column of Demons. It was following the road up the embankment to the plain and across that to the city, whose high walls were visible even here. When they moved on after a short rest break, the column was still marching with no end in sight.

"They must have found that body you crucified. See how they react?" Rahaby's voice had a mixture of conceit and spite in it. Kim Ngan looked at her steadily, if she couldn't see the Demon column was marching out, not in….

At length, the woman led them up the incline and onto the plain, one that was littered with what looked to be bonfires, although from the distance it was hard to tell. She moved purposefully forward, and as they followed her, Kim Ngan got a chance to more closely examine the bonfires. They weren't bonfires; they were what looked like burning coffins, of all things. On some, the lids were half-off; she could hear groans and cries of pain drifting out of them.

Rahaby stopped at one coffin, which was glowing dully. "What sort of metal is it?" Thai Hung idly asked.

"Bronze. Everything here is bronze." said Rahaby as she bent down and casually lifted the lid off. The hissing sound as the metal seared her flesh was audible.

Kim Ngan gasped. "What the hell…?"

The woman shrugged. "It'll heal in no time." She gestured. "In you go."

Kim Ngan looked down. The coffin had no bottom; instead, it was a stairwell. The top two stairs were afire, but the rest looked cool enough. Hesitantly, Kim Ngan stepped in, and gingerly hopped down to the third stair before crouching and continuing down. There was certainly pain in her feet, but it wasn't unbearable, and the cool stone on them felt good.

The rest of her team followed, wincing and grunting as they crossed the fire. Then the woman jumped into the coffin, grabbed the lid, and swung it back on. It fell on with a dull clank, and what little light there was vanished, save that cast by the flickering flames above. There was a flare, and more light: the woman was holding a torch, one she'd obviously picked up from the stash Kim Ngan could see on the fourth step.

She descended and brushed by them, then took the lead. They followed her for what seemed like miles -before the tunnel opened into a room. As they stepped into the cave, Kim Ngan realized that her feet didn't hurt anymore. The room was well-lit by torches ensconced in the wall, and there were some chairs and a sleeping pad in the corner.

She sat down, and gestured to some chairs. "Please, sit."

For the first time, Kim Ngan began to relax, and felt the adrenaline slowly draining out of her. She recognized the signs, end-of-patrol-itis, something that had killed more soldiers than most other mistakes. Assuming that the danger was over because they were about to re-enter their base, the getting ambushed when their guard was down. Kim Ngan kicked herself hard, mentally, danger was never over down here, she could never let her guard down. Especially with this woman.

"Anyway," continued Rahaby, "you need to tell me about this 'Great War' and everything that's happened since."

And they did. They told her about the Rumbling, and the peoples' death, the declaration of war on the Holly Empire and its Allies– "Mmm, so the current Emperor is Emperor Molt Sol Augustus ? So it seems that House Augustus still rule the world. That Imperial succession law is really smart ( only the Crown Prince/Princess can inherit the Imperial last name Augustus, the rest of the princes and princesses will carry the Emperor's spouse last name), it help to reduce imperial infighting. " Rahaby thought out loud – and the opening of the Hellgate in the wastes of southern Lemuria. When they were done, the woman sat for a long time in silence.

Then she said, "If you will excuse me, I will be gone for a couple of days. I will be back to take youto our leader." Then Rahaby stood and exited the room.

"What do you think Ninja?"

Kim Ngan looked around at the room. "We're like rats in a trap here and I don't like it. And I don't trust that woman, her main priority appears to be keeping out of the way of the guards and not getting caught."

"I can understand that Ninja."

"So can I, but Uncle Ho doesn't pay us to sit around. He must guess that and knows we are set on stirring things up around here. That could easily mean things get pretty precarious for people who just want to keep their heads down. I'd say it's a fifty-fifty bet she's arranging to turn us in right now. If she isn't actually part of the security system."

There were nods. A fake "resistance movement" that drew in likely recruits so they could be quietly killed was a tactic as old as the hills. The Company had been running similar things Cambodia before The Great War had come through. And Abbadon was known as being the Prince of Lies, at least that is what the Holy Order said.

"Yeah, Ninja, and she's pretty bitter about staying down here for ten thousand years. That could easily translate into her working with the Demons."

"So let's get the hell out of here." Thai Hung spoke decisively.

Kim Ngan agreed, it was against the grain to stay in one place under these circumstances. They made their way back up to the surface and out. Then, they moved as fast as they could to put as much ground between them and the hiding hole as possible. A few hours later, well concealed from any observers on the walls towering high above them, they came to a stop.

"What next Ninja?"

"First priority, find a way of attacking and killing one of those big Demons on a rhinolobster. An IED should do it. They're supposed to be so invulnerable, taking one down will be a real blow."

"That bridge. Now if we could blow it under a Demon column."

Kim Ngan laughed at that one. "We'll need something more than gunpowder and some holy magic to do that. What did you think of that column by the way?"

"They were marching out Ninja. Being pulled out of here, for something else. The only thing I can think of that would warrant that kind of movement is fighting us."

"Agreed. A sign our boys are doing well back there?" Then her face froze. There was a voice playing in her head.

"Hello, is this Lieutenant Tran Thi Kim Ngan? Hello, hello."

"What's the matter Ninja?"

"Got voices in my head. Sound like us, human. Hold one."

"This is Kim Ngan. Identify.

"I'm prioress Mizari. I'm in the BPRD Headquaters. I've been asked to try and find you."

"Authenticate two-eight-six" Kim Ngan snapped the numbers out.

There was a long pause and Kim Ngan was about to give up when the voice came back."Sorry, we took some time to find the security number from the night you were shot down. Authentication is two-oh-five.

Tran Thi Kim Ngan tried to stop herself cheering. "Guys, we're through. Somehow, the brass have found a way to get word through to us. I think we're back in the Army."

Headquarters, Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, Arlington, VA

There was no restraint in the laboratory, the cheering could be heard outside the doors and all down the corridor. Randi stuck his head around the corner, beaming at the sight of his staff dancing up and down.

"I take it something worked?"

"Mizari got through to those helicopter pilots. They're on the line now."

"How solid is the contact?"

"Very Sir." Mizari spoke respectfully. "It's comfortable to hold and there's no fade."

"Ask her where she is and what her situation is." Mizari's eyes defocused while she "spoke" with Kim Ngan. "She says she's in the fifth circle of Terror, she and her unit have escaped from captivity.

They've started to set up a resistance, they've already killed a Demon. The resistance is called the Popular Front for the Liberation of Netherworld. She says they need supplies if we can get them to her."

"Is there a resistance already? Escaped prisoners and so on?"

Another long pause. "Yes, but Kim Ngan says she doesn't trust them. Their main priority is keeping their heads down and avoiding recapture. Her plan is to keep them at arms length until she and her unit have stirred things up enough so that they don't have any choice about joining the insurgency. She also says there are signs of major troop movements out of the Eye itself, suggesting more forces are being readied for the invasion of Falmart. She's asking how well the Army is doing up here."

"That's my girl." General Vo Quoc Trung had entered the room quietly.

"Tell her we're kicking ass and taking names, we've won the first two battles big-time. Then, Mizari, find out what Kim Ngan's supply priorities are please. Tell Kim Ngan we can't promise we'll get stuff through to her but if its possible, we will."

One again, Mizari's eyes defocused. "First priority is webbing so they can carry stuff. Then, she wants advanced binary stabilized liquid explosive - BINASLEX ( each kilo of BINASLEX, when properly mixed, is the equivalent of 5 kilos of C-4 plastique ) , or better if we can send it, M-36 claymores, AT-5 anti-tank rockets and radios. Detonators or as many types as possible. She says an M82B1. 20mm sniper's rifle would be nice as well."

Vo Quoc Trung finished writing the list on a pad."Can we get back through to her any time?"

"I think so, Sir. It should be easier to reopen the link than it was to find her."

"Very well, tell her we'll be back in touch. We don't want to keep this link open all the time, it's a security risk."

"Very good Sir." Mizari's eyes blanked out again, then returned to life.

"She's gone Sir. I wished her luck on your behalf."

"Thank you Mizari." Vo Quoc Trung's voice was kindly. "I just hope we can send her a bit more than good luck."

Headquarters, Army of Abigor, Southern Lemuria.

It had been dusk when the flier had arrived. Abigor had been standing outside his tent, basking in the last rays of the setting sun when the flier had staggered in. A very badly wounded flier, its body dreadfully burned along one side, its damaged wing causing it to fly unevenly. As it approached, Abigor saw that it had lost an eye from the same burns that affected the rest of its body.

"Your Excellency, I bring word from General Merafawlazes."

Abigor looked at the battered flier. Was this the best Merafawlazes could send to bring news of his victory? It was insult. Abigor paused for a second, a deliberate insult? Was this Merafawlazes's attempt at deposing him? "What word?" His voice was curt and irritable.

"Sire, terrible news. The Army of the West has been defeated by the Terran Army and the Dark Sorcerer Legions were annihilated in the hand of the Zeroth Division. It is in full retreat heading east. The enemy are pursuing it in their Iron Chariots. They move fast sire, faster than the swiftest Beast. As our infantry run, they are being crushed by the Chariots. It is a disaster, Merafawlazes says beware of the fire lances and the Iron Chariots for our forces are helpless against them.

"Defeated?" Abigor was stunned by the news. "How?"

"The Terrans have terrible magic sire. They cause the ground to erupt and swallow our infantry whole, their fire lances tear them apart. They can call up divine thunder at will and their breath leaves nothing but the dead where they breathed. In the sky, their holy fire lances seek us out no matter how much we twist and turn. One touch from them is death Sire. One passed close to me, did not even hit me and look what its fire did."

Abigor listened in shocked disbelief. There was no way this story could be faked, no Duke would admit to so crushing a defeat. No demonic army had been defeated, not since That defeat, the one before time had properly begun. Abigor had been at that battle and known defeat then. He remembered its taste and suddenly, after countless eons, his mouth was filled with it again.

"Come to my tent, tell me all that you know." He saw the flier hesitate.

"You have nothing to fear."

That's what they all say the flier thought, before they kill the bringer of bad news

An hour later, Abigor was trying to absorb the flier's description of the battle. He had his own battle plan market out on his map, in essentials it was simply a larger repeat of Merafawlazes's attack. Cavalry first to break up the enemy line, then the infantry in a thick mass to swarm over the wreckage and finish the enemy off. He had his 28 infantry Fronts in a huge block, seven Fronts wide, four deep, the ranks massed tight and deep. By all that was traditional it should have been invincible. Merafawlazes had thought that, now Merafawlazes Army was dead or running.

"They hid behind the hill you say?" Abigor's voice was thoughtful.

"Sire, they did. They were lined up behind the ridge where they could not be seen by our force. Only after our army had been almost destroyed by their magic and we fliers slaughtered by their Sky-Chariots did they venture over the crest and charge us. Even then they did not dare to fight in honorable hand-to-hand combat but let loose their fire-bolts at us from a distance. Only when our comrades lay wounded and helpless did they close on us and then they crushed the wounded under their chariots."

The wounded flier dropped back to his knees again, still not quite sure he could believe the fact he was alive and uneaten.

Abigor thought the information over. He had to change plans, his original was an open invitation to a massacre by the Terran mages. His mind mulled the information over. His original front was over a hundred mile long with the ranks extending almost 30 miles backwards.

If he lined his Fronts up in single row, they would form a front almost five hundred miles long. His mind chewed away, the human magic slaughtered by area, why stop at lining up his legions side by side.

There was no need for the Fronts to maintain their block, 1250 ranks deep. Suppose each Front formed three blocks 405 ranks deep? And those blocks were lines side by side? Why, that meant a front approaching 1500 miles wide! , that is the width of this entire sub-continent, Abigor stared at his map, with a front line like that, he could extend beyond the range of the human mages and their magic, envelop their flanks and roll them up.

It was brilliant. It was also, of course against every concept of demonic warfare. Battles were decided by massive blows aimed at the center of the enemy force, the two masses colliding and slugging it out. This idea of thinning his lines and enveloping the enemy was, wrong somehow. Yet the humans were wrong, they didn't fight like warriors, they lacked the spirit to close in to hand-to-hand combat range.

He wrote the new orders down on parchment and then added another thought. The enemy mages had to be on that ridgeline. If they could be prevented from casting their spells, that would be a major part of the enemy's defense gone. So he added another line, ordering all the infantry to keep firing their magics as rapidly as they could recharge their mana. It didn't matter if they hit anything, just to keep that ridge crest under continuous fire. Then, he turned his attention back to the flier still cowering in a corner.

"You, what is your name?"

"Tomovoninkranfat Sire."

"I need you to take these messages to the Fronts commanders. It must be done tonight." Abigor was about to issue the usual blood-curdling threats when he stopped himself. This one had flown in with the messages although terribly wounded. Hell ran on fear and terror but surely nothing could be worse than what this flier had already faced.

"Tomovoninkranfat, you have already served me well and I thank you for everything you have already done. I see your wounds and know how much this must cost you but these messages must get through."

To Abigor's astonishment, Tomovoninkranfat drew himself up. "Your wish is my will Sire." And he left clutching the parchments in his unburned hand.

Behind him, Abigor felt another wave of surprise. Could it be that it wasn't necessary to terrorize everybody in sight in order to get things done? That praise and trust could sometimes work as well?

Operation Trinity Headquarters, Alnus, Lemuria.

"They're moving."

The great screen in General Nuttall's command center was showing a sudden surge of activity in the Demon Army that lay along the Wadi al Gudrhat. Formations were beginning to move shifting sideways, the deployment changing. Far over their heads, the Global Hawk was faithfully recording everything they did but what it could not do was tell General Nuttall why they were doing it. That, he had to work out for himself.

"A night attack Sir?" An aide spoke with unease. It was hard to make a guess based on intentions with so little to go on.

"Could be. They're moving sideways though, not forward. Extending their line. I'd guess this move started when word of what happened on their flanks started to trickle in."

"Perhaps they're trying to replace the flank cover we destroyed yesterday?" General David Tall was jumping in with both feet as usual.

"Could be." Nuttall repeated the same words absent-mindedly. "Any other suggestions?"

This was his "school for Generals", the time when his aides were invited to give their opinions on what the situation on the display actually meant and what should be done about it. Later they would compare their opinions with what had really happened and learn.

"I think they're scared." General Ellen Yarborough flushed slightly as the Supreme Commander looked straight at her.

"Why do you say that Ellen?"

"Because they don't know what hit them yesterday. They're still trying to piece it all together. Look what hit us over the last 24 hours. Cavalry, phalanxes of infantry, I mean real phalanxes General, only those harpies were anything even remotely modern. Now look what hit them. Tanks, Mick-vees, artillery, MLRS. Its completely outside their terms of reference. So they don't know what hit them.

"What they do know, Sir, is what we did to them. I bet the commander over there has reports coming in and he's trying to make sense of them. He's noted we kill wholesale, not retail. So, he's thinning his troops out, trying to reduce his casualties by giving us less to shoot at. He's also extending his front and might hope to outflank us but that's a secondary thing."

"Anybody any comments on that?" Nuttall looked around.

"It means he's pretty smart. They didn't fight smart yesterday." Tall looked around at the group gathered around the screen.

"Oh yes they did." Another officer, General Keith Renshaw cut in.

"They fought very smart in their own terms. Can you imagine trying to stop that attack with spears and bows? They'd have stomped straight through us. And they kept going even while we slaughtered them. Can you imagine a human army taking a battering like that and keeping up the advance? I can't."

"Important point that Keith." Nuttall spoke approvingly.

"They showed a lot of guts. They didn't change plans though, that tells us something about how fast their command structure can handle changes. Ellen, you make a good point as well. The commander over there is responding to what happened, doing so pretty fast.

" He paused and looked at the display again, it had updated to show the Demon positions moving further sideways. "Whether he's simply reducing the richness of the target environment or has thoughts about outflanking us doesn't matter. What he's doing gives him the option and we have to allow for it. Any suggestions. Ellen?"

"The critical point is here, at Hit. If Hit falls, and its right on our front line our extreme right flank, he can cross the Euphia and come down between the river and the Kingdom of Kowan. Cut us off from our supply lines. We have two Army Groups from the European Fourth Army Front in reserve, I suggest we order one of them to move to cover that area, position them east of Aqabani. With the divisional M370s in support. That way they can either block the Demon advance or, if they don't cross the river, swing and hit their left flank."

"Comments?" Nuttall looked around.

"Sounds good to me." There was a mutter of agreement.

"That's because it is good. Gives us plenty of options. One change, the MLRS launchers stay where they are. They have the range to support the 4th from their present positions and we might need that firepower. 25th Armor and 10th Mech can provide most of what we need but I want to keep one corps of M370s on a ready-to-shoot basis in case of unexpected developments. Thank you."

Nuttall turned back to his display. The Demon line was definitely extending and thinning. Yarborough had been right, they were learning fast. Not fast enough though.

DEPARTMENT OF INTELLIGENCE AND MILITARY OPERATIONS NETHERWORLD ( D.I.M.O.N ) Conference Room, Arlington, VA.

"Doughnuts and Coffee ladies and gentlemen and, errr, other lady."

There was a quick stir as people descended on the refreshments trying not to be seen as too keen to grab the iced donuts. Daelmara looked at the plates with a distaste and a certain element of despair. It had been a week since she had eaten and her body was screaming for raw meat. These balls of fried plants were of no use to her.

"You don't like donuts Debby?"

"I eat meat. Fresh meat. Not vegetables."

"Donuts aren't vegetables." One of the women present, a dedicated vegan didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"Donuts are made of flour yes? Flour is from plants. Plants are vegetables so donuts are vegetables."

"I must try that on my doctor." One of the men spoke quietly but the vegan lady still glared at him.

Robert O'Shea was speaking to the Pentagon kitchens on the telephone. They had some standing ribs down there and he asked for the largest to be sent up. "Beef all right Debby?"

"Human is better but any meat will be good." She noted the

expression on the faces of the rest of the people in the room.

"You do not eat your dead?"

"No." It was a short, clipped phrase.

"How strange. So you just waste them." Daelmara shrugged and then her eyes lit up as the raw meat arrived. She grabbed the joint and ripped at it with her teeth, tearing off large lumps and swallowing them. The vegan lady nearly fainted. There was a general agreement that they'd learned a first important thing about the Demons. Their table manners were appalling.

"If we might get started." Director of DIMON O'Shea looked at Daelmara who was still grunting, snorting and tearing at her meat. He couldn't help thinking it was a charming sight to see somebody enjoying their food so much.

"First item, communications. We can communicate back up to the Realm of Chaos on a one-to-one basis but that's all. Debby, how do we open a portal."

"You can talk to people back home? Then you can open a portal. Just add more power. Get more of your mages to add their power to the message. First you can get messages through then with more power the message opens a gate. It's easy. As long as you use a Psyker to contact."

"What's a Psyker ?" The vegan lady wanted to keep Daelmara talking in case she decided she wanted some more meat and created another display like the previous one. The stripped bones were still on the table to remind her of what that sight had been like. Idly, Daelmara picked one of the ribs up, cracked it open with her teeth and sucked out some marrow.

"Psyker are mortal with demonic ancestry. All psykers draw their powers from the extradimensional realm known as the Immaterium that underlies four-dimensional realspace and is the source of all psychic energy in the universe.

Long time ago, when we were here before, we mated with the humanoids. We Demons still do. Sometimes there are offspring from such matings that are both mortal and demon. Now, the demon ancestry in a Psyker is mostly very small but enough remains. We can contact them even from our dimension." Daelmara thought carefully, how could her information be valuable without giving away too much? "We can make you see what we want you to see but we must be able to see you for that. But with Psyker we can contact make messages without seeing."

"Is that how you come to other dimensions."

"Yes. We contact a Psyker and use our mind-mask to establish a message link. Then our leaders add more power and form a gate we can step through."

Daelmara looked around and saw the growing affection in the eyes of the people around her. And gratitude for her assistance. She was doing well, and her stomach was full at last. Only one person present didn't like her and that was the woman who had complained about eating meat. Daelmara eyed her and wondered, purely academically and without any intention of actually trying, what she would taste like.

Observation Room, DIMON, Arlington, VA

"What do you think of her Robert?" James Randi looked at O'Shea, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"Well, she's not the sort of girl I'd take home to meet my mother."

O'Shea thought for a second. "On the other hand, she eats humans so I might take her to meet my ex-wife. But in her way, I thought she was quite pleasant."

Randi smiled and shook his head. This was why the JREF always filmed their tests and trials, it was amazing what one could see when a situation was played back."Watch this Robert."

It was a film of Daelmara eating, her teeth ripping at the meat, blood spraying around her, running down her chin. She was looking around, half suspicious that somebody might take her food but it was obvious that her eyes were also assessing the chance of eating one of the other members of the meeting.

"Quite pleasant Robert?"

O'Shea looked appalled. "I don't remember it like that. Oh, I noted she was a bit gross when she was eating but nothing like that."

"That's why we record all of the tests we do. See things that get missed first time around. We've noticed how that witch seems to get on everybody's good side very quickly. Nobody had much bad to say about her. There's something we need to look at here."

"We all had our Sunforged mithril foil caps on." O'Shea sounded defensive.

"I know, anyway it seems like we need to investigate this a bit more. Robert, something your people can look at, I need to get go and get more power pumped into our links to Realm of Chaos."

Headquarters, Army of Abigor, Southern Lemuria.

The Great Beast saw Abigor approaching and clicked its claws in greeting. As befitted Abigor's status, his Great Beast towered over the lesser Beasts ridden by the cavalry brigade and its black skin swirled with iridescent colors that caught the rising sun and sparkled into a shimmering halo. Abigor returned the salutation of his Great Beast and swung up on to the animal's back. Over his head, he could see the viciously curved tail straighten and then fall back to its natural position. The Great Beast was ready to move, to attack the humans that dared to defy its master.

Ahead of him, Abigor saw his legions start to roll forward, the thinned ranks looking pitifully slender by the standards of demon warfare. The Front was designed to fight as a solid mass, its 1215 ranks adding mass and weight to the charge that would strike the enemy with the force of a battering ram. Abigor had knowingly sacrificed that weight, given up the power of his charge in favor of hitting the humans along a much broader front. Ahead of him, he could see the humans had done it again, they had formed up behind the ridgeline where they were shielded from the trident bolts of the demon infantry. They had to be up there though for this was the day of the great battle.

Overhead, Abigor could see the strange white clouds the human Sky Chariots left behind them as they searched out the remaining fliers. He could hear the sound of their battle-cry, a strange roaring scream punctuated by thunder-like explosions as their fire lances tracked their targets and blew them apart. There were more Sky Chariots here that Abigor had ever seen before, they filled the sky above the battlefield, dipping down to slash at the fliers who floundered helplessly below them.

Casualties up there must be terrible, Abigor thought. Even as he watched, three fliers fled westwards back to the hell gate. A Sky Chariot was in hot pursuit, closing the range on them with terrible speed. Oddly, this one was silent and if Abigor hadn't been watching, he wouldn't have known it was passing. Only after it had passed did Abigor hear the thundering crash and roar of its battle-cry. The Sky Chariot swerved after the fliers and it gave forth a rasping moan that filled the sky with bright lights. One flier exploded, there was a brief pause, then another rasp and a second flier died. The Sky Chariot zoomed skywards, rolled over and slashed down at the third. It too died as the lights engulfed it.

Still, it was the ground forces that were important. Fliers were important for terrorizing a fleeing enemy but in a real battle, it was the cavalry and infantry that counted. Abigor urged his Great Beast forward, keeping close to the infantry as they surged forward. He could sense the uneasiness in the ranks, the infantry felt exposed without the thick mass of the ranks that usually surrounded them. And the Cavalry were staying back, normally they led the charge, the shock of their weight and speed breaking through the enemy lines.

Now they were being held to wait on events. If the army started to fall apart, it would be their job to stem the breach and hold the line. Abigor suddenly stopped himself, he was thinking about what would happen if he lost? Something had changed in him the previous night when he had listened to Tomovoninkranfat's account of how Merafawlazes's Army had died. Defeat had ceased to be unthinkable, now it was all too real a possibility.

The sky to the east was changing, suddenly, the rising sun was shining through the streaks of the human fire lances suddenly emerging from far behind their lines. Their mages had to be at work already. The front like of the advancing infantry lowered their tripods to the horizontal and let fly with a withering barrage of lightning bolts. The ridge crest was at extreme range and man of the bolts had dissipated before they made it there but enough hit the line to disrupt the concentration of the human mages. Abigor was sure of that. Yet it did not seem to affect the Fire Lances as they arched over and raced down into his infantry. The rippling sea of explosions engulfed a whole section of his front line, devouring it, shredding those unfortunate enough to be caught in its hot breath.

That was how Abigor found himself thinking of it, it was the Humans breathing death over his infantry. They were faltering, looking around, seeing the wire ahead of them and realizing what was to happen. Abigor drove his Great Beast into the middle of their ranks, urging them forward, firing his tripod– and hearing the wailing screams as yet more human magic was added to the chaos.

Operation Trinity Headquarters, Alnus, Lemuria.

"Pumpkin-One reports receiving heavy inbound fire Sir. The Demons are firing their magic on the ridgeline as they come in. Fire is ineffective Sir."

Nuttall nodded. The truth was, he wasn't that interested at this point.

His artillery was tearing huge gaps in the Demon attack although the reduced density of targets meant the death toll was lower than it had been yesterday. Standing in front of his screen, he could see the Demons surging forward, taking their losses from the deadly MLRS barrages and the minefields. They hadn't reached the wire yet. Not that it mattered to him, the division commanders along the front knew what they had to do and Nuttall had left them to get on with it.

They had enough on their plate without their commanding general peering over their shoulder and second-guessing them. Nuttall had enough to do as well, in addition to handling his Armies artillery, he had to keep supplied of ammunition and fuel flowing towards the corps. He had truck convoys scattered all the way between the front line and Alnus, keeping them flowing forward was a job in itself. He had staff handling that as well, his part of the battle was to stand here in front of this screen and spot things going wrong.

"There's a flight of Floating Ship of the Heavens coming in from Italica. Carrying reloads. Make sure our fighters screen them from any harpies surviving out there. And have the fighters report when the harpies are cleared out of the way. The Apache crews will want to get their licks in."

"Sir, Yes Sir." That had to be one of the Marines Nuttall thought. Still it was better than the Rangers, that constant Oooh-Agh got on his nerves after a while. Getting the AH-64s into action was going to be critical for more reasons than one.

The 25th Armored Joint Task Force, known on the radio as "Pumpkin" was already tearing the Demons apart, they had the firepower and mobility they needed. The Demons in front of them were going to die, it was simply a question of how many of them would do so before the rest broke and ran. Not that there was anywhere for them to run to. In the west, the Shamshar Armored Joint Task Force and the First Armored were rapidly closing the gap that was the Demon's only escape route.

No, 25th Armored were going to be all right. The problem lay to their west, where the 10th Mechanized Infantry Joint Task Force, call sign Mango, held the line. They were a heavy infantry joint task force, 120 divisions strong, they didn't have the heavy armor that had dominated the battlefield so far.

They did have four field armies rather than three and more artillery but their force structure was light. Nuttall had put them on his right for two reasons. One was that they covered a more inhabited and built-up sector of the front where the armor would be at a disadvantage. The other was a more ruthless one, Nuttall had to find out how human mobile infantry would fight against the Demons. All the reports so far said that the Demon infantry were larger and stronger than humans and they took a lot of killing. Could human mechanized infantry stand up to them? It was a question that had to be answered sooner or later and sooner was better than later.

Hence the importance of getting the Apaches back over the battlefield. They were an important part of 10th Mech's firepower.

"Sir, Mango reports the Demons are moving to attack them. Should we divert artillery support from Pumpkin?"

Nuttall thought for a second."Negative. Keep battering the troops attacking Pumpkin. We can destroy that attack fastest, then we can thin out Pumpkin's positions and shift forces to support Mango."

10th Mech had its artillery and that would have to do. The 25th Armored and 4th Army Front's artillery was concentrating on the Demons assaulting Nuttall's left, over 15,000 M1299 self-propelled 180s and 9000 MLRS launchers. The sheer volume of fire they were pouring into the advancing Demons was enough to stop even an Army from hell. Or so Nuttall hoped.

"Gee Sir, will you look at that!"

The Marine's voice had lost its dispassionate inflexion. In the middle of one surging mass of Demon infantry, pinned up against the wire, was a single jet black figure that towered above the rest, mounted on a rhinolobster that dwarfed the others.

"I guess he must be important." Nuttall raised his voice slightly and addressed the fire direction center. "Put an MLRS battery on to that location soonest."

Front Line, Army of Abigor, Southern Lemuria.

Abigor saw his infantry surging against the river of silver threads that strung across the battlefield. Some of his demons had tried to grab the threads with their hands, only to scream in anguish as the razor edges bit through their flesh to the bones. Others had tried to force their way in through the coils, only to become entangled and slowly sliced apart. The momentum of the attack was broken and all the time the shrieking howls of the enemy magic drowned out any attempt at thought. The infantry had to get through the threads, there was no other choice.

He saw the answer over his shoulder, on their way through to the threads, they had crossed a field covered with bars that exploded when a demon stepped on them. Many of them had been killed and their mutilated corpses littered the ground. Others writhed in pain from the traumatic amputations the bars had caused. Yet, Abigor thought, even the dead and the half-dead could still serve him.

"Get those bodies. Throw them on the threads and use them as a bridge."

The noise was too great for his words to carry far but some heard and started to collect bodies and throw them on top of the coils of threads. Others saw what was happening, understood and copied them. Soon the wire was sagging under the weight and the first of the demon infantry was running across, clear of the wire and into the open ground beyond.

"Sire, there are problems on our left!" One of the lesser demons, a legion commander by the look of him, carried the message but could barely make himself heard.

The left, Abigor thought, ten minutes fast ride away. He had better get there and find out what was happening.

"Take over here, keep driving them forward."

Then, he turned his Great Beast's head and started the ride up to his left flank. This was a problem he hadn't thought of, in the traditional formation he could see all of his forces, in this new style of attack, he could see only a small portion of the battle at any one time. He was spending all his time running from one crisis to the next, trying to solve each one before it became a major problem. Time he should have been spending in finding the enemy commander so Abigor could have the pleasure of killing him.

There was another shrieking howl and the terrifying ripple of explosions that were the trade-mark of the fire-lances. Abigor felt the blast and the sting as stray fragments at the end of their trajectory flicked at him. Behind him, the area where he had just been had vanished under a rolling cloud of dust and smoke. Abigor had already seen enough fire-lance breaths to know that nothing was left alive in the area he had been in just a few minutes before. Then it struck him, he might not have time to find the enemy commander, but the enemy commander had found him.

Operation Trinity Headquarters, Alnus, Lemuria.

"Missed him." The Marine sounded disappointed.

"Don't sweat it son, it was only a chance. He's heading west , guess on his way to Hit. Sitrep?"

"Mango-Four is in Hit sir, they've dug in. They're all south of the river and there's only three bridges out."

Nuttall knew what that meant. If Mango-Four tried to evacuate the city, there would be a massacre as they piled up before the bridge.

"Sir, Mango Four requests permission to blow the bridges. They say it won't do them any good and taking it intact might help the Demons."

"Tell them to do it. We can throw an assault bridge over easy enough. The Demons don't seem to have heard about combat engineering."

"Sir, with the bridge gone, Mango Four won't be able to…."

"I know, so did they when they suggested it. Order Cherry-One up on Hit. Tell them to form up to the north of Istar-Ramani."

Outskirts of Hit, Southern Lemuria.

"We'd just got this place quieted down as well." Corporal Tucker McElroy looked out at the advancing Demons with certain level of disgust. Three months earlier, Hit had been torn to pieces by a squadron of UEAADF's bommber whose attacks spared no one.

Then, the Marines had moved into the city as part of Task Force 7 and cleaned the city up. It had come back to life and its economy had been improving everyday, but everything changed when the Demons coming.

Not as many as there had been, that was for sure. At first their long ranks had been a terrifying sight but Mango-Four's artillery had got to work as the Demons had stalled in the minefields and on the razor wire.

By the time the Demons had swarmed through the artillery over the wire, their neat ranks and serried formation had gone. In its place was a stream of Demons in groups of varying size making their way towards the outskirts of the city.

McElroy heard the 180mm mortars coughing as they lobbed their first rounds at the larger of the groups, the corps 320s were still pounding the Demons hung up on the wire.

By now, the leading groups of demons had reached the great divided highway that swung around the outskirts of Hit. It was time to do some real soldiering.

A few yards away Charles Foss was scanning the nearest group of Demons through the powerful scope on his M82B3 sniper's rifle, well, it wasn't actually a sniper's rifle, officially it was an anti-material cannon rifle.

There was even an urban legend that it was illegal to use it against humans but that wasn't true. Anyway, the targets this time weren't human.

Foss checked his ammunition, the tips of the 25mm bullets were green on white. That meant they were Raufoss SLAP rounds, multi-role armor-piercing explosive incendiaries.

They'd been pouring in to Lemuria for days now, the joke was that they had still been warm from the production line in Norway when they'd been stuffed into a transport, then holy enchanted by the Holy Order and flown here. The infantry formations had been given priority for their issue, they needed the firepower.

Magazine in place, Foss squinted through the scope again. The Demons cleared ground fast, at least 4 times as quickly as a human. One figure in the nearest group seemed to be the driving force, urging the others forward. Foss put the cross hairs on his forehead, just between the horns and gently squeezed the trigger, just the way he'd taught his six-year old son to shoot. Never pull the trigger, squeeze it. The super-heavy Barrett rifle kicked and the Demon went down.

"Damn." Foss swore to himself. The Demon was down, his head mangled, but he was still moving. What did it take to kill these monsters?. A second shot was the answer, it fixed the leader for once and for all. Foss swung his scope to the second in the group and fired again. This one went down hard and finally with the first shot. The rest of the Demons went to ground, confused by the inexplicable outbreak of sudden death that had struck them.

That was a fatal mistake. The mortar teams saw the group stop moving and a pattern of 120mm mortar bombs blanketed their position. By that time, Foss and his fellow snipers were seeking fresh targets.

Inside the fortified house, McElroy looked over the sandbags that blocked the doors and windows to see the Demons rapidly closing in on the forward defense line. They were over the inner ring road, less than 300 yards away, running into an area of ploughed sand where a new city block had been planned.

Those plans had been abandoned and would probably never be revived now that half the city's population had been draft to the army as demanded by the Holy Emperor and the rest were refugees being sheltered further east. But the blocks either side of the cleared area had been built and then they'd been fortified.

Human heavy infantry would have seen the deadly danger of that open ground and avoided it. To the Demons, it was an alley into the city and forty or more piled into it. They'd been the first group through the wire and minefields, the first to cross the open ground and get close to the city, the city that was defenseless. To their astonishment, they could see the buildings in front of them, the Terrans hadn't built walls or moats to keep attackers out. Just the threads, the exploding bars and their horrible magic fire-lances.

McElroy gave a last check, the demons were in a three-cornered ambush with infantry squads on both flanks and another in front of them. Worse, from the enemy's point of view, McElroy had dismounted the 30mm auto-cannon from their Oshkosh IFV and had it on its tripod, firing through a narrow slit, its green-and-white tipped bullets waiting to bite. Fine, the demons were in a trap, time to spring it.

"Open fire. Let them have it!"

Defense Perimeter Charlie, Hit, Southern Lemuria.

"Just how many of these bastards are there?" McElroy was distinctly aggrieved. Despite the fight they were putting up, he and the rest of his squad were being pushed steadily back by the sheer weight of numbers that were being thrown against them. They'd bled the attackers badly on Perimeter Alfa, the demons seemed to have no idea of fire and maneuver, they'd just walked straight into the auto-cannon fire. Only the waves behind the first group had simply climbed over their dead and kept on coming.

"I heard over a hundred million." Private Gerry Links repeated the rumor with grim relish. "And it looks like most of them are here."

"If you mean right in front of us, right now, I'd say you're just about right. There's more of them than we've got bullets."

And that, McElroy thought, was the pure, unvarnished truth. Oh, the 30mm Gatling guns were cutting the demons down all right and the snipers were having a field day but there weren't enough of them and they were being swamped by the numbers coming through. More than just the numbers, the bastards were so damned difficult to kill.

The truth was that the M47s just weren't cutting it. McElroy had put a whole 15-round of 20mm in the magazine into one Demon and the damned thing had still torn Jim 'Cookie' Fields apart before it had gone down.

Explosives were doing most of the work, 40mm advanced binary stabilized liquid explosive grenades from the M29 shoulder automatic launchers and the MMP anti tank missiles. That and the Claymores, human or demon, the spray of fragments from a Claymore shredded them nicely.

"Here they come." There was a crescendo of firing from the block to their left, a mad minute as Baldwin's squad poured fire into the Demon assault teams before leaving via the back of their building. That would leave McElroy with an exposed flank and he'd have to fall back as well soon.

To his front, he saw black figures suddenly detach from the building in front and run out across the street. He took a careful bead on the leader and fired as fast as he could squeeze the trigger, watching shot after shot slam into the Demon's chest.

It was staggering but still coming forward, McElroy felt he would have better luck if he spat at it. Off to his left, the squad machine gun snarled out a burst and the Demon McElroy had wounded went down. There was a crash that shook dust from the walls and wrecked ceiling of the block, the last of the unit's claymores had gone off.

The front of the building caved in, the Demons were a lot stronger than humans and even the sturdy construction of Falmartian walls wasn't even close to being strong enough to hold them out. McElroy had lost some of his people first when the walls the Demons pushed down had trapped the men behind them but they'd learned that lesson. Now they were in hastily-prepared positions at the rear of the room, firing up and out at the Demons as they loomed over the wrecked structure.

Demons weren't actually that much taller than humans, McElroy guessed that they averaged between seven and eight feet tall but they seemed to be much bigger – especially when they were coming straight at you all teeth and claws.

He had a fresh magazine in his rifle, that was the good news. The bad news was that it was his last one, he'd run through his basic ammunition load in just a few minutes. He saw the green spurts as the bullets tore into the chest of the leading Demon but, as McElroy had expected, the damned thing just kept coming. "Everybody out!"

He heard the rest of his unit scramble out the hole they'd knocked in the back wall of their block. McElroy paused just for a second, launching a grenade at one of the Demons. The black monster caught it and looked curiously at the small metal egg. The sheer incongruity of the sight caused McElroy to delay for a second and that killed him.

The Demon he'd just shot slashed at him with his claws, ripping through his Mk3 Combat Jacket and tearing his chest open. McElroy screamed as the Demons fell on him, tearing him apart and stuffing meat from his body into their mouths. Then the grenade went off and he, along with the Demon who had been holding it, died.

"Down the alley fast, the grenadier will keep them back." They were being pushed back, certainly, but they were bleeding the Demons at every step. The time to fight it out, room to room would come later. And that, Links thought, would be a bloody day. Links fired another quick burst and saw a Demon flinch. The M47s might not be killing them but they could hurt. Off to his left, he heard screams, human screams, was it the grenadier who'd held on to give his squad cover?

Links didn't know and didn't have time to think about it. He and his men emerged from the semi-shadow of the alley and saw the most welcome sight of their lives. A Black Knight was sitting on the road, its turret trained on the alley they had just come from. They could guess what was coming and scattered to either side. There was a rasping burst from the chain gun and this time the screams were Demon. M47s may be ineffective but 57mm APHE was not.

"In the back fast." The Bradley commander snapped the order out. Links and his men piled into the back and the ramp closed behind them. They were safe at last, behind armor.

"Where we going?"

"Defense Perimeter Delta. The other side of the clearing. We're holding there. No more falling back."

"Just how the hell are we supposed to do that? These 47's ain't worth shit against a Demon."

"You'll get sacks of grenades and AT-5s issued when we get back to your position. And M72s. Once we're in Delta, we'll do it Stalingrad style. Room to room. Keep fighting."