'The king is crowned
It's do or die
No one can save me now.'

'Battle Cry' - Imagine Dragons

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The storm rumbled above them, flashes of light skittering across the boiling sky, illuminating the two armies – one deathly still, the other moving – staring each other down. It was quiet, save for the rumbles of thunder and distant sound of hissing rain, a sort of quiet that dangled on the edge of chaos, waiting for that one moment when the pressure finally gave way. That moment, the moment of chaos, was heartbeats away.

Between Crimson's army and the city-cats was a small expanse of nothing, just sparse green grass and dirt – mainly dirt. No-doubt it would turn to mud once the rain arrived. The sun had long since set, pale golden rays vanishing from the world for the night. It would have been a welcome warmth to fight under the watchful eye of the sun.

Stepping out from the ranks of her army was Crimson, fur smooth and slick and clean, a black smear against the brown of her soldiers. Beside her, tall and regal, was Frozengaze, fur bristling along his spine and tail fluffed up to twice its size. They stopped, turned, and looked over to the opposing force; and then Crimson smiled, a chilling smile that was caught in the brightness of lightning.

He never wanted to see that smile again. It sent him back to the island where she'd laughed and set his home ablaze, back to the waterfall where it was either Jinx or a plummeting drop, back to the quiet bank of the lake where Littleflame had smiled a similar smile at him before going at his throat, back to the forest where Tornheart's scream of death had echoed. Padshiy's teeth sinking into Icepetal's body, Littleflame's mangled body creating an ocean of blood. They all reminded him of that sickening smile. It froze his very blood.

A warm body pressed against his and he leaned gratefully into it. Apollo didn't say a word, just tucked her head under his chin and stayed there, allowing his burdens to slip from his shoulders to hers, even if it was just for a few moments. Briefly he wondered if Littleflame might have done the same heartbeats before battle, but the thought was gone before he could dwell on it.

He could see Shatterelight speaking with Miraz and Titan, her entire body quivering – with fear or delight he could not tell. She must be one of those cats that loves war, he decided, then realised that no cat could truly love war. All war brought was loss and heartache.

Raising his head he peered into the mess of dark clouds and sent a silent prayer to the cold stars – Tornheart had told him stories of a time long ago when warriors had prayed to the stars, and the stars had listened – hoping that maybe one of them would be feeling merciful, asking them to look over Rainpatch and Icepetal, to keep them safe so that they could all meet again.

"I had hoped you would all just lie down and die," Crimson's voice rose above the whipping of the wind. "I suppose that hope was a little far-fetched. Have you all come to pledge your alliance to me?"

"Does it look like we came to pledge our alliance?" Miraz shouted in reply.

Crimson shrugged lazily, "you could be pledging your alliance with sacrifices. Your loyal city-cats would suit me just fine. Send them over."

"We are not giving up without a fight, Crimson! This is our home and we will defend it with every drop of our blood. I would rather burn than bow to you," Titan hollered. His cats screeched their agreement in raging battle cries and vows of glory. Miraz's joined in. Eaglestrike remained quiet.

"If you wish to fight then I assure you we will fight," Frozengaze said, "and we will win."

"Every cat behind me is willing to follow me. How many cats behind you are willingly there? How many have you had to sink your claws into? How many still think for themselves? Wars aren't won with numbers, wars are won with loyalty!" Titan roared back.

Crimson didn't look the slightest bit put off. "No, but numbers certainly help. My soldiers won't run away once struck. My soldiers won't faint at the sight of insides tumbling from bodies. My soldiers fight for me and will die for me."

"They don't sound overly happy to be fighting for you," Miraz leered, Kesla screeching on his shoulder.

"At least I have no traitors in my midst."

Titan bristled, "we have gotten rid of traitors. All those that stand with me have earned their place." A shudder ran down Eaglestrike's spine. Would he mention that the traitor had been Littleflame, one of the few chosen to save the world? He swallowed; it seemed that none were immune to the darkness.

"Oh?" Crimson cocked her head to one side, that chilling grin growing. "Are you sure? I can see one right now. Doesn't she look admirable pretending to be someone she's not?"

"We have no traitors," Titan reaffirmed.

"Have you told him yet? Have you told your precious Clan cat what you are? What you promised to do? I don't think you have," Crimson ignored the city boss.

Shatteredlight tossed her head, "I see you've grown even more crazed in your elderly age."

"I see you haven't changed at all in your elderly age," Crimson wrinkled her nose. "You know, little traitor," she wasn't addressing Shatteredlight anymore, "I am a little insulted. Your name came to me with high regard. Step forward; let your friends see who you really are."

The warm body pressing against Eaglestrike's side, sharing the burdens weighing down his shoulders, abruptly left. It stepped away and the cold rushed back in, a spot of rain landing between his shoulder blades, sinking into his skin. He reached out to touch the warmth with his muzzle only to touch empty air instead. It was a sensation he hoped he'd never feel again, and he still didn't understand why. Why had Apollo left his side?

He watched her walk away, shoulder through the ranks, and brush past Titan, Miraz, and Shatteredlight to be the only cat standing between Crimson and the city-cats. He watched her look the enemy straight in the eye, raise her chin, and narrow her eyes. He watched her go from a lowly city-cat to a powerful leader in the blink of an eye.

"Hello, little traitor, you haven't done what I ordered you to do," Crimson's grin fell into an ugly scowl.

"You never ordered me to do it, your oath-taker and her friend did," Apollo replied, "and from what I have heard both of them are dead. That broke our deal."

"Don't spin petty lies at me, traitor. A deal is a deal regardless of who made it. Yet here you stand, and there he stands, one of the ones I ordered you to kill," she snarled.

Eaglestrike's head was spinning. "What is she talking about, Apollo? Why is she calling you a traitor?"

When she looked back at him there was so much grief in her eyes that it pained him to keep looking, but he did, because he loved her. "There are so many things you don't know about me. I'm not sorry for who I am. I am sorry for not telling you."

"You aren't making any sense," Eaglestrike knew his face was twisted into a helpless look of confusion.

"Lovers tiffs are so boring. She's an assassin, fool, and a very good one according to rumours. Murders without remorse, obliterates enemies without a second thought, has a heart of ice that can never be melted or broken. You really don't know her at all," Crimson sounded smug.

"An assassin?" the Clanner repeated. "You didn't think it was important to tell me that you're an assassin?"

"Wait!" Crimson interrupted, "you haven't heard the best bit yet! She's an assassin that I hired to kill you. Did you really think she's been following you around all this time because she actually cares for you? Don't be stupid, Clan cat. Apollo has been waiting for the ideal time to strike, to bring down the Chosen, and seeing as there appears to be only one Chosen left I'd say she hasn't done a bad job."

Apollo looked stricken. "No, Eaglestrike, wait you don't understand! What she's saying, the words she's using, they aren't all true!" But her excuses were lost in the sound of the storm breaking over them, rain thundering down in heavy sheets, and Crimson's army surging forwards to meet the city-cats in a clash of tooth and claw. The war had begun with the clashing of thunder and lightning bearing witness to the carnage.

He went down under the weight of an enemy, teeth meeting his shoulder and ripping at the flesh there. But he finds himself sort of floating out of time with the rest of the world, like everyone else was moving past him and leaving him behind. The word assassin just rolled over and over in his mind as he absently fought back, strikes more lazy waves of claws than things to be scared of. He could taste the sharp tang of blood in his mouth, not that he knows when his mouth started bleeding or if it's even his own blood. There was a body by his paws gushing blood, turning brown fur to scarlet as the waves of red run free. Did he do that? He couldn't remember doing it. He needs to free himself from heaviness weighing him down, or he'll die.

The world sped up around him. Jaws snapped shut whiskers away from his ear and he rolled to the left, away from the teeth seeking his flesh. A body followed his, growling and snarling. He felt numb, sluggish, far away. Even the pain from teeth tearing flesh and claws scraping down to bone didn't pull him out of his daze. What did was an owl rocketing from the sky, hooked beak opened in a deafening shriek. It plunged wicked talons into the face of a cat and tore ribbons of flesh away, gauging out eyes with vicious strikes.

"You look petrified, city cat!" a hoarse voice crooned, "must've never seen a battle as chaotic as this before. Just stay there and I'll put you out of your misery."

"Never seen a battle like this? I'm a Clan cat, we see things like this every day," Eaglestrike snarled hoarsely and struck, driving teeth into the soldier's throat before it could react. The strong smell of blood filled his nose, death mixing with it, and Eaglestrike found that it didn't send a shudder of fear rolling down his spine but instead filled him with adrenaline. He knew Icepetal would no doubt be having the time of her life, so why wasn't he? Few Clan cats would ever get the chance to kill so many of Crimson's soldiers in one place.

An assassin? He smacked away a blow to his face. Why wouldn't she tell me? He wove under and around a barrage of claws. She didn't tell you because she was sent to assassinate you! He shook his head, biting down on the hind-paw trying to beat his head in. But she never killed me, I'm still alive, she never killed any of us. Teeth bit into his side. She did attack you that one time. Heavy paws battered him. She loves you. He was falling, falling, and crashing to the ground, drowning under the weight of war, so many enemies crowing at him from above. She never said she did. The breath in his lungs was being pushed out, so many paws stamping on his rib cage. She doesn't have to say it for me to know it's true. He scrambled for purchase on the slippery ground. She's been acting! A searing burn of pain ignited on the back of his neck, wicked claws splitting the skin. SHE LOVES ME. SHE'S LYING.

"Eaglestrike!" a tom bellowed. Horrifying screeches of the dying pierced the air above him, blood splattering down like rain. Everywhere he looked was a screeching, writhing mess of cats struggling to kill each other; so much blood, so much death. His mouth ran dry. "Eaglestrike!" Miraz's bloodstained face appeared over him, "get a grip! Now is not the time to have a meltdown! You and your she-cat can sort things out later. Right now we have a war to win. Worry about your own life first. This is what you're here for," Kesla materialised in a flurry of feathers and squawks, beating off a grizzled tabby before it could reach them, "this is what you've travelled so far for. Fight for your family, for your home, for your friends – both the ones here now and the ones left behind -, fight for your future. Go!"

He blinked at Miraz, a strange fire thrumming through his veins, igniting him from within. The city boss was right. This was what he was born to do. Everything in his life had lead up to this moment, to this battle, to this war. He'd been placed in this world for one thing, and there was no way he was going to screw it up. Apollo and her trickery could wait.

With a hoarse cry reverberating in his throat Eaglestrike stumbled to his paws, meeting Miraz's burning gaze with a look full of determination. He would not be dying here today. One of the soldiers responsible for the countless opens wounds spread across him was still alive, gasping feebly under-paw, the whites of her eyes showing clearly. Her ears were flat against her skull, and a bloody bone protruded from a ragged gash in her side.

Eaglestrike pushed down on the bone, drinking in the she-cat's howl, reaching down to pinch the skin of the back of her neck between his teeth. He met her eyes and then bit down, wrenching the soldier's neck till it cracks and the she-cat falls limp beneath him. By the time he'd calmed his racing heart Miraz had vanished. If this is what Icepetal felt during a battle then he could understand her craving for it. The feeling of adrenaline charging through his veins and pulsing with his blood is like nothing he's ever felt before.

More soldiers fall under him. Apollo has been pushed to the back of his mind, though the anger he feels at her betrayal adds power to his swings. The fire behind his eyes makes him look crazed but he doesn't care. He's discovered that you need to be a little crazy to survive such chaos. A soldier reared up in front of him, brutish paws ripping chunks from his chest. Eaglestrike gnashed his jaws, carrying the soldier off its paws in a strong charge.

The two go down in a bloody, muddy mess, howling and shrieking as they rolled over and over. A mouth closed over his muzzle slamming his mouth shut. His lungs started to burn. He couldn't breathe. In a panic he pressed all his weight against his forepaws, pushing and pushing at the solid weight until the teeth gave way, ripping down his muzzle. Spitting Eaglestrike rocketed to his paws, gasping in deep breaths till his vision cleared. The soldier licked blood from its lips, and grinned.

They collided with a thud, frantically throwing themselves at each other in the hopes that one would lose footing and fall. It didn't happen. The soldier was too heavy for Eaglestrike to get under, and the Clanner was too quick for the soldier to catch off guard. It appeared that they would be stuck in their little world until one simply gave up, grew too exhausted to continue. The ground jerked out from under him, and the worse that could happen did, Eaglestrike went down, his skull connecting heavily with the ground.

The battle went dark around him. He lost sight of the soldier out for his blood, yet the darkness at the back of his eyelids was so much more welcoming.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" the soft voice that barely reached his ears was not welcoming at all.

He snapped his eyes open, and hissed at the sudden brightness. A warm sun sat high in the sky above him, a stark difference to the stormy dimness he'd been in heartbeats ago. There was a small figure sitting with a tail wrapped neatly over its paws, small ears pricked attentively. An orange glow enveloped them. A trick, a trick it has to be a trick.

"You look tired."

"You're dead."

Littleflame smiled gently and warmly; she was like a ray of sunshine walking among the living. "What if I wasn't? What if I was still alive?"

"It doesn't matter, you're dead, it doesn't matter what would have happened if you had lived," his gaze hardened, "if you hadn't betrayed us. Why did you do it?"

Her stance tightened; face falling into a stormy expression. She flexed her claws into the ground, ripping and tearing at the grass. "Because it was the right thing to do. We couldn't win, Eaglestrike, we still can't win. She came to me, I didn't know who it was at first, said she could give me whatever I wanted for nothing. Nothing, Eaglestrike! I could be strong! I could stand up for myself! I'd be able to take care of myself and you wouldn't have to take care of me!"

"You actually believed some stranger that wandered up to you in a dream was going to give you strength for nothing in return!?" Eaglestrike exclaimed, jaw agape.

"Shut-up!" Littleflame roared. "You don't know how it felt to be considered the weak one! No one ever looked at you and wondered if you'd make it through the night! All I ever wanted was to be strong! And you know what? In that moment I didn't give a damn what happened."

The bright sunshine dimmed. "You jeopardised everything! She possessed you, Littleflame! Willowclaw nearly killed you. Everything we did she knew because you gave in," he knew he sounded disappointed, but he was, he was so disappointed that she had given in. He thought she had been growing stronger day by day, but she'd only been using borrowed strength that would never ever be hers.

Darkness had been slowly creeping over Littleflame's pelt, the warm orange turning into a sickly gray that steadily deepened. Across her muzzle spread a cruel smile. The green in her eyes bled away, dribbling down her cheeks in rivulets of green, replaced by red. "Oh come now, Eaglestrike, there's not need to be like that. We both know you still feel something for sweet, innocent Littleflame. Don't deny it now." Crimson stood before him and the sun no longer sat in the sky.

He blinked and Littleflame was back. "I love you, Eaglestrike. You love me too, right? You'll always choose me, won't you?"

"She's waiting, Eaglestrike," Crimson cooed in his ear. "Don't disappoint her."

"I'm scared, Eaglestrike. She says she's going to give me strength, but all I feel is myself fading away. Why won't you look at me? Why do you stare at her? You...you still care for me don't you?" her eyes were filled with confusion.

Crimson wrapped herself around him, circling and circling. "Oh how devastating it must have been to watch you slip out of her grasp, to watch another prettier, stronger, more interesting she-cat snag your attention. You know...Tornheart knew all this was happening, and she just sat by and let it. She could have stopped the tribe from taking Willowclaw, could've stopped Littleflame from dying, and could've stopped Apollo from tricking you. But she didn't."

"Eaglestrike!"

He watched in silence as blood gushed from Littleflame's mouth, splashing down her chest to pool on the ground. He didn't move when red began to run like tears from the corners of her eyes, nor did he move when invisible claws ripped open her stomach and yanked out her organs, scattering them across the scarlet ground.

"Where is she, Eaglestrike?" Crimson breathed. "Where is Tornheart?"

Stepping over her spilt organs, Littleflame sauntered over to him, eyes hooded and bloodied. With a crazed look she twisted her neck till it snapped, asked, "Where's Tornheart?" and dropped to the ground.

"Not here. You killed her," he finally spoke, lying through his teeth all the while staring down at Littleflame's grinning corpse.

"Don't lie to me!" Crimson threw him into Littleflame's blood. "I know you know she's still alive. Do you really think I wouldn't be able to tell how unnatural this storm is?" He hadn't even noticed that the same ferocious storm that had screamed across the battlefield had appeared in this strange dreamland. "Don't make me ask you again."

He didn't get the chance to answer, Crimson and Littleflame vanishing into nothing, as he crashed back into his own body in the thick of battle. Apollo was standing over him, white pelt drenched in blood and gore, mouth pulled into a feral snarl, beautiful eyes filled with rage. His heart sputtered to a stop.

Over the din of the storm and the battle rose a voice thick with hatred. "Crimson!" A pillar of unearthly green fire rocketed into the sky, splitting the battlefield. Tornheart stood before Crimson, green fire rippling across her body like she was made of it. "I am going to rip you apart!"