Tapio stumbled towards the blockage at the end of the alleyway. The blockage was made up of some crumbled sections of wall as well as a tangle of some wooden structure. It appeared to have been almost constructed, perhaps by the Rusviet forces for the brief time they held the town.

Up on the roof, Oscar was almost far enough to the edge to make his attack. He paused and checked his launcher.

Looking through the debris, Tapio could see the town center. Rusviet soldiers were dragging bodies away from their fortifications. A team of engineers appear to be working on the machine gun nest, attempting to fix it to fire again. Tapio was disheartened to see all the Nordic soldier bodies strewn about still. The last of the Nordic forces were being pushed back. They fired their rifles in tandem, and were already slowly making their way back down the road.

The Kolokol took a few steps forward. Another grenade was launched. It disappeared down the road from Tapio's view, but he heard the explosion that followed it.

The mech looked like it had taken a beating, however it still stood as an imposing force. The whirring of its launcher filled the streets.

Tapio looked up. Oscar was bracing against the rooftop. He raised his launcher, and began to aim. Tapio wanted to shout out to him. He wished to say something helpful. However, he knew he was concentrating, and he had to wait.

However, the Kolokol took a few steps forward, coming right up to the sandbag barriers. Tapio realized that if the mech followed the survivors down the road, it could walk out of range, or make the shot harder. They needed to act now.

He nervously looked up to Tapio, who was waiting and aiming.

One of the Kolokol operators shouted something over the speakers. The Rusviets gave a victorious shout. They began reloading. A few with rifles fixed bayonets.

They were going to charge.

Tapio nervously looked back up to Oscar, and back to the mech.

Oscar took the shot.

The grenade arched right at the mech. It came down right on top of it. It hit. It exploded. A blast. A puff of smoke.

The Kolokol shuttered with the impact. Tapio's heart sank.

Until the grenades on the rail on top of the mech exploded. Before Tapio could register the first one had gone up, the whole line had exploded.

In a mere second, it followed the line down into the magazine of the mech. Fire erupted from the exhaust. Fire erupted from the viewport. Fire came out the cracks of the armor and the hatch.

There was no movement. Tapio's heart stopped.

The Kolokol stood still. The whirring of the flywheel stopped. Then, slowly, black smoke rose from the mech. Flames licked at the hull, and it burned, standing straight up. Shouts of anger, surprise, and fear erupted on the Rusviet lines.

A light machine gun erupted at Oscar. The young man barely had time to confirm his success before he rolled from the side of the roof, the area he had been exploding from bullets.

He slid down the roof before falling. He landed on his side next to Tapio. Tapio heard the shouts of anger from Rusviet soldiers. They were getting closer. Barking order.

Tapio picked up Oscar, who was gasping for air.

"Breathe later," said Tapio, "Run!"

Tapio placed a boot to the ragged, wooden door in the building they had first gone through. The door gave way, but only into rubble. Tapio ripped it from its hinges, and found a crawl space underneath.

"Go, Go!" shouted Tapio.

Oscar dived into the space and crawled. More gunshots caused Tapio to duck. Some soldier was firing his automatic shotgun into the debris that separated them from the street. Tapio winced, but he managed to fall on his knees in a way to make it easier to quickly scramble into the crawlspace.

He was crawling along for only a few minutes when Oscar reached back through and pulled him painfully out. They were in that house again, but this time debris was all around them. The morning daylight was pouring in from the front, and so were the eager glances of Rusviet soldiers. Oscar began to run, and Tapio quickly followed suit.

Behind them, wood and rubble exploded from Sub machine gun fire. They barely made it into a back room, where they could see another door leading west. As they ducked through it, they heard Rusviets behind them. They booked it across a small pen, and found themselves ducking into another building.

Oscar struggled to find a door for them, but as Rusviet forces closed in, Tapio kicked open a low window, and stepped out of it. Oscar followed suit, and they were soon back to the metal building Tapio had fought hand to hand with that soldier.

Upon entering, Tapio grabbed Oscar and slowed him down.

"Long live the king," shouted Tapio, walking slowly across the room towards the open door, "Aesir Virtanen coming through!"

"Long live the king," came the return of a Nordic soldier, who appeared in the doorway, "Quickly, now. They are right behind you!"

Tapio stumbled back into the back alley area. The line of wounded, and dead, had grown. Now only a few soldiers waited here. Down by the opening, a few soldiers still fired at the approaching Rusviet soldiers.

A heavily wounded Hersir Larson laid against some rubble. A private applied bandages to her. Captain Liam MacLean stood by her, loading his rifle. At the sight of Tapio, he approached.

"Good god," said Liam, "You Nords really do have a death wish. Look at you."

"We took down the mech," said Oscar.

"Lucky shot," said Liam, "But it might be too little too late. We're mostly dead or dying. I'm afraid we only have a handful of soldiers in fighting fit, and no way to retreat with the wounded."

"We're out of time," said Tapio, "I am ordering a full retreat."

"A full retreat?" questioned Oran.

"If the wounded can walk, now is the time for them to get out of here," said Tapio, "Otherwise, they need to be propped against a wall or behind cover and hold them off for as long as possible."

"You're abandoning them?" asked Liam.

"It is our way," said Tapio, "I am offering the dying a way into the halls of Valholl. We are outnumbered and outgunned. This is a reality. Those who can escape, should. Perhaps they can regroup with the relief force and avenge the fallen. We don't have any more time to discuss this. We're here on stolen time!"

Behind Tapio, the soldier guarding the door to the metal building fired his SMG. Gunfire was returned, but he stood his ground.

"We're surrounded!" shouted a private farther down by the docks, firing a shot from his rifle.

"Captain, you must take command of the retreating wounded," said Tapio, "Go, now!"

"Aesir," said Liam, sternly looking at Tapio, "We both know that isn't going to happen. I'm staying."

"Captain!"

"I am not a Nordic soldier," said Liam, "I am afraid you do not order me around. I have a mission, and it is to accompany this team and hold Hammakko. I shall be staying."

Tapio sank his head, before nodding, "If anyone wants to go, now might be the best time."

Not a single soldier said anything. Gunfire still rang out.

Suddenly, a soldier behind Tapio spoke up, "Aesir. Aesir! They are pulling back!"

Before Tapio could ask for clarification, the soldiers by the main road spoke up, "Sir, the soldiers are pulling back!"

"Pulling back?" asked Tapio and Liam together.

"Is it a tactical retreat?" asked Liam, "Are they regrouping and luring us into charging again?"

"I don't know," said Tapio, "The only time I knew of a Rusviet withdrawing when they were winning was... artillery!"

"Artillery?" said Liam, "They are going to flatten us when they are winning?"

A soldier by the main road fortifications suddenly gasped, and he fell backwards. He pointed wildly down the road.

"Commander!"

Tapio and Liam went down to the soldier. Tapio heard a great sound, of a building being smashed. He tried to pick up his pace, but his shoulder was killing him. With one hand, he unbuckled his webbing, and he allowed it to fall on the ground behind him as he walked. That got some weight off his shoulder, and he instantly felt a lot better.

He jogged up to see what the commotion was about, however by the time he was able to look down the road, the commotion was already underway.

A large mech was towering over the down. It stepped forward, each metal footfall creating a miniature shockwave through the ground. It was partially obscured by the town hall, but it could still be seen towering above it.

The mech had a massive, heavily armored torso for its two, relatively small legs. It looked as though it was designed to resemble the stern of a ship. A viewport could be spotted, big enough for several people to look out from in. Below that was a machine gun turret menacingly pointing out the front of the mech.

It's main feature was its two, massive arms. The massive arms held up two bladed weapons that gave it the appearance of a praying mantis. These two massive blades were easily used to stab or swipe at enemies with great force.

It was a Serb. An SHM-69 Serp heavy mech walker. If there was a mech more iconically Rusviet, it had yet to be invented. The massive mech towered over most buildings, and it was a chilling sight for any soldier that opposed it.

It and its crew of six now stood in town. It stood there, unmoving, for just a short amount of time. Tapio's heart sank at the sight of it.

"What do we do about that?" asked Liam.

"We can't do a thing," said Tapio, "I am afraid Hammakko is lost. It is truly time to retreat."

"We've been over this," said Liam.

"Captain MacLean, please," said Tapio, "This is no longer about being outnumbered. It is foolish to think we could hope to win or slow that thing down."

"It's foolish to think we can outrun it," said Oran, approaching from behind, "Aesir. If I may: Our only options are fight and die, or be captured and be tortured, maimed, or killed anyway."

Tapio shook his head, "Is there nothing? No cart? No boat? No way to get anyone out of here?"

"Only those who can walk or run," said Oran, "And we'd be abandoning the wounded."

Tapio nodded. He turned and walked back to the wounded.

"Is there any of you who can walk? Who can run?"

He took note of only two people who indicated as such. He tried to remember who in their ranks was young, or younger. But he could not. He frowned.

"Private Pederson," he shouted.

Oscar appeared at his side. He turned, grabbing him by his shoulder.

"If I order something from you, you will just ignore it," said Tapio.

"Look, I have a few grenades left," said Oscar, "Maybe if we-"

"Shhh, do not speak," said Tapio, "We are out of time. There is no going home. I am not ordering you. I am begging you. Oscar, please, take who you can, and go. Run away. Go to the oil pumps. Find the relief forces. Tell them what happened here."

"But you can't. You can't fight them alone-"

"It's not about heroics. It's not about bravery. It's not about fighting them," said Tapio, "It's about informing the army the status of Hammakko and the position and size of the enemy forces. It's more than us, Oscar. I need you to go. I need you to run. If the wounded slow you down, I need you to leave them. Don't get caught. Run. For all of us."

"I... I can do it," said Oscar, "I can fight."

"Then fight for our story to outlive us," said Tapio, "Fight for the Kingdom. Fight to leave and go far away from here. Far away from war. Far away from Europa. Just don't die here."

Oscar nodded. He was shivering again. Tapio shook him.

"We will buy you all the time we can," said Tapio, "But you will have to move quickly. Go, now!"

Oscar turned, and he began walking away. The two wounded were helped up, and they went with him. A single rifleman looked scared, and eventually snuck off and followed after them. Tapio did not care. He knew they were doomed.

Tapio unbuttoned his soggy greatcoat. Each was one at a time, one handed. He allowed the coat to slide off his shoulders, lying on the ground. He felt the bite of the air. It was fall air. The beginning of winter. He felt a shiver of cold.

However, with the weight shed, he felt each step a little less. He was exhausted. Tired. His shoulder screamed in pain, but it was a familiar feeling. As he returned to the small fortifications, he came across his downed webbing. Kneeling over, he retrieved his hand axe. It wasn't too heavy. He could wield it alone in his right hand. Tapio adjusted his Spangenhelm so it was a little easier to see out of.

He walked past the men behind the barricades. Liam and Oran looked uneasy at him out in the open, but he locked his gaze on the Serb.

"This is the last chance to retreat," he said to his men, "Now, or never."

He walked past the barricades, and stood next to the smoldering wreck of the walker. Liam raised his rifle, standing to Tapio's left. Oran slowly walked up behind as well with a recovered SMG raised. He stood to Tapio's right.

"Just hold the line," said Tapio, "That's all we have to do, is not move from this spot."

A metallic creaking burst forth from the Serb, and an enemy megaphone turned on. A voice cleared its throat, echoing throughout Hammakko.

"Nordic soldiers," came the voice, a heavy Rusviet accent, "I am Commander Kirill Meretskov of the Rusviet army. My forces have won this day. You are few and are weak. I will only tell you this once. Lay down your weapons and surrender to my forces."

Tapio gripped the hand axe harder. He heard only minor shuffling from behind him. With great effort, he raised the axe.

"To Valholl," Tapio said, just above his own breath.

To his surprise, a chorus of mumbling or low voices repeated behind him, "To Valholl.". It wasn't a war cry. It was a statement. It was acceptance.

"No?" came the Rusviet voice, "Very well then. Join the others in hell, you frozen scum."

The megaphone cut off with a screech. Tapio lowered his hand, and he prepared for their charge. He could already see Rusviet soldiers coming down the streets again. They had regrouped. Many had bandages and tied, bloodied cloth over their wounds.

The Serb moved. Pulling back its massive arm, it swung the blade forward, cutting right through the town hall. With a mighty clang, the blade's journey stopped, and the building collapsed into itself. The mech pulled the blade from the wreckage, and began to step forward. It plowed through the remains of the house, and walked confidently to the fork in the road.

The Serb spread its arms, before bashing the two blades together like a marching band's symbol. The resulting clang spread out through the town, shattering windows and crumbling what rubble was already on its last leg.

The sound hit Tapio like a wave. He was deafened, and his ears began ringing painfully. He was almost knocked back. No, it was Oran. He was yelling something at him. He winced at Tapio through his eye holes in his helmet. Tapio couldn't hear what he was saying.

Tapio was dragged backward, back to the makeshift fortifications. Slowly the silent mouths moving became muffled moans. Soon they were distant words, before finally the ringing of his ears parted and his hearing returned.

"We can't have you shot in the open," said Oran, "If you aren't going to listen to me, at least stand back. You're too wounded to charge."

"No, no charging," said Tapio, "We need to hold our ground. Hold out."

The Rusviet forces shouted something in unison. Some battle cry in Rusviet. Tapio broke away from Oran, and returned so he could watch the advance.

He closed his eyes. The Serb. The soldiers. This was it. They would be upon them in moments. He could hear the screaming of the men. The screeching of the metal on metal. The screeching of the angels. The birds as they yelled over-

Screeching?

Tapio's eyes opened, and he looked above him. A sound like a teakettle screaming got louder and louder. It was lowering in pitch. Or getting louder?

"ARTILLERY!" shouted Tapio.

Soldiers hunkered down in fear. Shouts and orders were heard. But Tapio stayed still. He looked at the Serb. If he was going to die, he was going to meet-

A round slammed into the arm-joint of the Serb. The resulting noise of ripping metals and shattered pipes caused every spine to crawl. The round continued past, lodging itself into the wreckage of the town hall, sending debris and splinters everywhere.

The Serb barely moved, only slightly showing the impact of the hit. However, after a moment, the right blade fell, lodging itself firmly into the dirt and mud of the road ahead. As the weight shifted, it fell sideways, and with a squirt of oil and a shower of metal shard it ripped itself from the body of the Serb and fell to the ground.

The arm had barely landed when the second shot hit. The sound was akin to a hundred hammers slamming into a massive bell. The round slammed into the mech and detonated. This impact caused the mech to step back to prevent itself from falling over.

Extending its blade outward, the mech leaned forward to create a tripod to stabilize it. The metal groaned under the stress.

Even as he waited, Tapio became aware of a different noise. The sounds of distant cannon fire. It sounded like artillery fire. However, he was familiar with that sound.

"Drekkar!" he shouted.

His voice was raspy and shaky, but the energy was real. His heart was racing, and his eyes scanned the sky as the faint trail of artillery shells streaked across the sky.

"I know that sound anywhere," said Oran, "Is it really?"

More rounds hit. The area around the Serb was bombarded. The groups of Rusviet soldiers, grouped together and preparing to attack, were unlucky enough to find themselves as targets. Their screams and shouts of confusion could be heard from down the destroyed road. The Serb took another hit, fire spurting from its back.

Rapid pounding was felt through the ground. Tapio couldn't help but look back at what approached. Tall mechs ran up over the far hill. They were tall, as tall as the Serb, but they moved much quicker. They had a series of exhaust ports interspersed between cannon barrels lining down their backs, with a thick, stubby cannon barrel jutting out of the front. They stopped and paused, taking in the surrounding area.

Suddenly a droning noise filled the air. The mechs were forcing their exhaust through tiny holes in their mufflers, creating a harmonized drone sound.

Captain MacLean let out a victorious woop. He leapt and waved, trying to get their attention.

However, the group of three mechs fired, their cannons slamming into the wounded Serb. Just as quickly as they had arrived, the mechs took off at a jog, quickly circling the city. One of them stopped again, and fired into the Serb. The Serb burst into flames. The arm gave out, and it landed in a fiery heap on the ground.

Something they could not see returned fire, and the ground around the mechs exploded. Two of the mechs ran off to the North of the town, engaging whatever forces were there. The other ran ahead, towards the enemy, its cannon firing off another shot.

"Those are my boys!" said MacLean, "I must support them!"

With that, MacLean was running across the damaged road, and disappeared around the workshop.

Before Tapio or Oran could follow him, a rumbling came down the roadway, and they had mere seconds to step back before a vehicle rumbled by.

It was a large Knarr. The craft rolled down the road on caterpillar treads, slamming into the wreckage of the Stridsvalker and instantly climbing over it. It continued down the road. The front machine gun opened fire, and fired into the few Rusviet still attempting to secure the wreckage of the Serb.

The vehicle came to a stop. A steam whistle blared. The protective front armored slabs shot forward on thin arms. They created three separate barriers. The machine gunner ran forward with it, the machine gun still stuck inside the middle barrier. Only a minute lapse in gunfire before he was hunkered down, and firing the gun again.

"To Valholl!" came the roar of the inhabitants.

Nordic Soldiers stormed from the Knarr. Shotguns and SMGs fired, and soldiers charged ahead. The artillery fire was now streaking overhead, and landing somewhere unseen beyond the town.

Tapio was overcome with emotion. He barely noticed the lines of soldiers rushing into the town behind the troop transport. They checked building to building, and when they arrived at the remains of the group, they shouted for medics. A team of medical troops ran in, huffing at the effort. One tried to take Tapio aside, but he motioned to the Hersir where she laid.

A large Jotunar marched into the town, surrounded by heavily armed guards. The mech was unlike that Tapio had ever seen from its class. It had the hands ending in spiked balls of iron, as well as an arm cannon on each arm. However, it also sported a small Gatling gun on one shoulder. It was also painted a stark blue and white, and the trim gave it the appearance of actually being gold plated.

The signet of a Chief shone brightly on it. The mech turned and took in Tapio until a booming voice came over the top of the line speaker system.

"Tapio Virtenan, this is Chief Carl Adlersparre. I must speak to Hersir Larson."

Tapio nodded to the mech, "I am afraid she is hurt badly. Over there. I am in command. Aesir Virtanen."

"Command?" came the voice, "Aesir, you look like shit."

"I am... here," was all Tapio could muster.

"You and your men have done well," said the Chief, "My mech must seek battle, I am afraid. Your wounded, including you, are to seek medical aid. Those who can still fight are to resupply at that Knarr transport and fortify this town. You have done enough this day."

"We can fight, oh Chief Adlersparre," said Oran.

"Negative. I have spoken," said the Chief, "We are in your debt. We will talk later."

The mech turned and continued its march down the road. The elite guard of soldiers readied their weapons, and continued down the road.

Tapio breathed. The sounds of battle filled his ears. However, it was the Rusviet forces who were being held back, and the Drekkar bombardment was still raining down on whatever unseen force was just beyond the town. Even as more Jotunar walkers stomped through the town, Tapio felt like it was a dream. He felt he had died.

The axe slipped from his hand. Tapio fell to his knees. He allowed himself to feel it. His back was in pain. His skin felt cold. He was shivering.

He had survived. Again.