"And this is Glimmer, and this is Crackle, and Spark, and Flash, and Sparkle," continued the Photo Glows-Glows. Gregor couldn't help but groan inwardly. The bugs' nasal voices drove him crazy.
"What are you guys doing here?" exclaimed Gregor with confusion.
"We have formed an alliance with the slimmers and both groups agreed that we should do the same with you. For mutual protection," said the bug. Gregor had forgotten how obnoxious they sounded. Behind Photo Glows-Glows, Gregor heard several of the other bugs whispering,
"Didn't he say we would get cake?"
"I'm just here for the cake."
"I love cake."
"Ah," thought Gregor, "Of course!" The bugs—as always—had been motivated by their stomachs. Still, if it weren't for them he'd probably be dead so he owed them.
"So you guys talked the snails into helping us?" asked Gregor.
"Yes," answered Zap, "We have been traveling for the past half month. We barely made it here."
Gregor looked back out over the battlefield. The humans and their allies had gained the upper hand again. Something about the slime had seemed to paralyze the cutter. But below him, he saw soldier after soldier consumed by the swarms of red. They needed help! There were too many cutters! The humans were being ripped to shreds.
"We need to do something!" shouted Gregor. Ripred nodded in agreement.
"They need support," he said. "You ready, boy?" he asked.
"Me!" said Gregor.
"Yes, you, we should be able to lend a helping hand," he said. "Just remember what I taught you and you'll be fine," he said. Gregor nodded, jaw set. He would fight to protect his family.
Two bats lifted Ripred and Gregor off the wall and deposited them onto the ground, right in the midst of a raging battle.
Gregor swung his sword around in a circle, slicing through cutters. Blood sprayed his face. It was acidic in his mouth. Ripred was beside him, shredding up ants. Things looked bad. There was confusion on the field now. The lines of lobsters had splinted and were now mixed in with cutters. With so few for each cutter, the lobsters were left on the defensive.
Gregor couldn't help but wonder why some of the people were on the battlefield. He saw people missing limbs and a man who must have been a hundred years old. None of them were fit to fight! And... Mareth. He was in the midst of it all, but his balance was off. He couldn't handle fighting with his leg. He tried to block an attack from a cutter, but he missed, stumbled, then fell.
The scream never left Gregor's mouth. He was tearing toward Mareth. In his fear, the rager sensation spike and he was demolishing every creature in his path. By the time he reached Mareth, it was too late. Much too late. The cutters had gone beyond killing him. They had sliced and bruised his body to shreds. There were tears in Gregor's eyes now. He concentrated every bit of strength he possessed into attacking the cutters. Killing... Killing... Killing... The outrage of it drove him mad! They had killed his friend. Now he would kill them. All of them.
The next few minutes passed like a dream for him. There was the sensation of pain, of wetness (was that his blood?), and the feeling of spinning. He was dizzy.. dizzy... his legs felt like rubber. He couldn't support himself and more. His legs gave out, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
When he regained consciousness, he looked around at the battle. They were now lazily picking of ants, one by one. The battle was one. The humans were still here. Some must have removed him from the battlefield because he was now lying face-down on the wall. It was cold and abrasive against his skin. There were few cutters left, now. Gregor realized it had been an all-or-nothing attack; either the humans or the cutters would be ended once it was over. The ants refused to give up even once their numbers had dwindled to mere hundreds. They were still fighting but it was pointless at this point. They had won the war! Yet it did not feel like it to Gregor. Mareth was dead, Vikus was dead, Angelia was dead.
The rest of the day was a big blur for Gregor. The humans, Fireflies, and snails wrote out a formal alliance. Gregor spent most of the day helping clear bodies from the battle-field. By the end of the day, he was covered from head to foot in blood, sweat, and dirt, which form a revolting muck. All he wanted to do was take a bath, which he did.
He was led into the bathing room by an underlander he had never met before. Once he was alone again, he stripped off his sweaty clothes. His half-healed scars screamed in protest as he sank into the warm water. It lapped gently at his chin once he had sat down. Once he was completely submerged the pain seemed to fade a bit. Gregor twisted in circles, trying to rid all the dirt and blood from his body. Brown clouds swirled away from his body.
Once the water had cleared Gregor got a good look at his body for the first time in months. The sheer amount of scars shocked him. They were everywhere, crisscrossing across his arms, stamped deep into his chest, all over his legs, and of course, his shoulder.
"No," thought Gregor, they couldn't return. Even his mom must realize this. He could never hide it forever. And then what would happen...? They would have to stay, and deep down, he already knew it.