finally got this done after a few days searching out how a battle cast invasion would look from trenches. Shout out to the Discovery Channel and Nat Geo for their footage of army ant swarms. Reviews are much appreciated as always.
It had been silent on the frontier for almost three days, no sign of any recon units or even the constant Valkyrie drones that streaked over the barren lands before Bandle City. Teemo poked his head above the trench for a moment, the roiling clouds of a thunderstorm crackling in the distance. Pulling back he slowly began to unscrew the silver thermos given to each of the Scouts for longer missions, a soft amber liquid filling the tin cup that served as the top of the thermos. To most people in Bandle City thunder storms were a nuisance at worst, the hextech powered city unaffected by high winds but to the soldiers in the trenches thunder storms meant ankle high mud for days, the wall's heavy gauss artillery more likely to misfire with the lightning arcing across the sky. The pitiful excuse for a tank occupying the tank pit a few meters back rumbled as it inched forward. It was an old model, the kind used almost fifteen years ago in the Noxian invasion of Ionia. Back then it would have been considered state-of-the art. Now though the Zuanite All Terrain Tactical Assault Vehicle, ZAT-TAV for short, was a mere child's toy compared to the Piltoverian Stryker IV's brought by Jayce's division. The sixty five millimeter gun on the ZAT-TAV's could kill infantry easily enough but the bloated bricks on tracks were barely road blocks for alphas and primes, the latter simply stepping over the ZAT-TAV. Their instruments were rudimentary at best, the targeting often calibrated simply to scare the enemy rather than hit them. The yordle sighed, it was about to be a long night.
Venator watched the Ultra with a hint of caution, the larger machine staring directly at the massive portal spires that would send the first wave of the invasion force to Bandle City. [While the fighting distracts most of the fleshlings you will eliminate Hiemerdinger, Viegar, Tristana, and the President of Bandle City.] Venator's visor flashed at the mention of the three ex-champions.
[Affirmative.]
It looked wrong. Yasuo watched the ninja wield his blade with precision close to his own, no doubt the product of years of through training. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Zed shouldn't be using a sword. The armored ninja returned the orange edged weapon to the ronin, Yasuo shifting as Zed unsheathed his own weapons. Vibrant blue light arced along the edges as the blades sparked to life. "You know why I asked you to come?" It barely sounded like a question.
"Yes. I am to lead the hunter-killer unit within the governmental sector."
"You understand the…consequences of this mission?"
"I said my good-byes if that's what you're asking." The crimson clad man nodded.
"This is your final opportunity to back out, Yasuo. No one will think less of you." The ronin lowered his visor, the orange face plate gleaming. Zed's blades slid back into their sheaths. "Very well, I'll be on the bridge if you change your mind." Yasuo nodded, his blade carving the air before slicing clean through the practice dummy.
The yordle peered over the edge of his trench, the thick hood he wore drenched and coated in a film of mud, as crimson light poured into the night. Immediately the ground rumbled, wake up cries echoing along with the thundering of the outer walls guns. He shook the last bits of dreariness from his stout frame, the hand cannon issued to majority of Bandle City's military cresting the earthen defenses before contributing its own noise to the growing cacophony of cannons. Even at this range the invasion was terrifying. Drones streaked from the upper reaches of the crimson rift, their auto cannons raining hell on the walls as bombers unleashed their payloads. The yordle bellowed defiance as the rippling tide of iron began to pour from the portal, his hand cannon cracking off one of many shots in the first volley. The front line of shocktroopers crumpled, their brethren simply charging over the fallen as sickly green plasma blasts illuminated the air. He caught a glancing blow to his shoulder, the arm going limp as the flesh burned and steamed in the rain. Gritting his teeth the yordle switched to a single handed grip on his hand cannon, the volleys ordered by the generals becoming less and less frequent as well as more disorganized in nature. By the time the iron tide had managed to reach the first row of trenches he had shot two more rounds, his arm too tired to fire the cumbersome weapon anymore. The shocktroopers swarmed into the cramped confines of the earthen defenses, the yordle cowering under the half demolished body of another gunner who had taken a shot to the chest. From his relative safety he watched thousands of iron crab-like monstrosities skitter past, the crimson light from their joints spilling into the trenches in lieu of the now cloud-obscured moon. After a few minutes the yordle poked his head from behind cover, instantly regretting it as a massive iron machine dropped into the trenches. Its frame looked almost like a large suit of power armor, twin crimson eyes scanning the carnage within the trenches as panels along its back opened and closed gently. In its hand it carried a massive blade, the weapon seeming to burn with unholy fire as the machine turned towards him. It's sheer might entranced the yordle, the furred creature frozen still as the massive centurion advanced The crest on its head casting a shadow over half its faceplate, the darkness broken only by the crimson eye and burning blade, the machine switching to a two handed grip before twisting the hilt and plunging the sword into the ground, pure heat exploding outward as the trench became little more than a dust filled ditch.
Prime 17-44-6 bellowed as its sensors fed the battlefield to its cognators. All around the massive machine iron soldiers of the evolution surged forward, the metal tide crashing against the outward wall of Bandle City. Massive cannons roared from atop the metal emplacement, the prime echoing their challenge with a volley from its twin heavy plasma cannons, two of the artillery positions falling silent as the monstrous iron beast neared the outer wall. The other guns had begun to turn towards it but the prime didn't care. Its shields flashed crimson at the sight of each impact, the shells blasted to atoms and a rush of wind by the arcane magics surging within the prime. It lifted single cannon, the heavy blade protruding from the bottom arcing downward to crash through the wall, metal and concrete tumbliung to the ground as the prime repeated the process, slowly carving through the wall as shocktroopers, destroyers, and alphas surged for the opening. Trimuph was inevitable. Suddenly the primes shields faltered 17-44-6 stumbling back as its shoulder plate was crushed inward. The shot was non-penetrating but the one following it tore clean through the iron armor the twin gauss cannons that had fired the rounds scrambling to reload as the injured prime roared, its functional plasma cannon obliterating one of the guns before the second one ripped a chunk out of 17-44-6's chest, the machine toppling backward as its core began to burn a raging crimson.
Teemo watched it go off from troop bay of a dropship. Where before a mighty barrier had stood only charred rubble remained. The outer wall was useless now, the soldier still in the trenches were overrun almost instantly as the artillery of the outer wall began to fall silent, the resonating cracks of the gauss weapons focused on the advancing primes instead of supporting the ground troops. Frankly it was a miracle the gunships had been able to salvage so many soldiers. His command squad had been pulled first. As he watched the battlecast suddenly stopped, the last gun position silenced as the iron invaders halted their advance. As his aquiline eyes scanned the battle field a look of shock passed over his face, hand pinching his comms. "Fucking artillery…Evac the inner wall! NOW!"
The cacophony of thousands of artillery pieces firing at once was a symphony to the centurion ultra's sensors. 8-1-12 immediately looked up towards the inner wall, the chemical shells streaking over its position on the outer wall and into the eastern gauss emplacements, the metal that hadn't been obliterated by the initial blast warping and corroding before turning to a fine dust as segments of the wall began to shed their runic steel coatings. [Alter fire to western wall segment G] Artillery units pinged responses instantaneously, 8-1-12 turning towards the assembled centurions behind it. [Kill team Nox, staus report] The kill team leader, centurion 4-43-1 inclined its head.
[Affirmative. Weapons check is satisfactory] 8-1-12 briefly looked over the loadouts for each centurion. Of the squad of five two centurions carried the standard plasma rifles, one carried a shotgun, and one carried a minigun. The leader wielded a mag-shield and messer sharpened to a mono molecular edge. All were equipped with seed II anti-techmaturgy rounds. 8-1-12 itself wielded its customary railgun, the fire sword which it had taken to calling Ignis after the famed blade of a Demacian knight during the rune wars and its twin collapsible swords.
[Primary target: fleshling government]
[Affirmative]
She had expected the battle to stay outside the walls longer. Her rifle thrummed gently before releasing another round into a destroyer, the machine crumpling in on itself before exploding in a violent display of runic force. Caitlyn felt a hand tap her shoulder Trost miming the retreat signal as Jayce crushed a particularly stealthy shocktrooper that had managed to get past Caitlyn. "Time to go. Command wants all available squads covering civilian evac." A spattering of autocannon fire announced the arrival of a dropship, the massive bulk of Ivan in full power armor waving the three into the bay of the ship as its thrusters whined. Moments later an alpha made quick work of the mobile barricades set up by the engineering corps, a few ZAT-TAVs bouncing shots off its iron hull before massive saw blades eviscerated their crews. The entire squad was worn out. After the outer walls had been breached the fighting had intensified rapidly, the large majority of small units able to force their way into the city. Now that the mighty gauss guns had begun to fall silent alphas, and far more terrifyingly, primes had begun to stomp and rumble into the city. The vast majority of the enemy army was still outside the gates. Thorin seemed the most worn out his already tired face devoid of any energy. He was too old for this kind of fighting. Throwing magic or bullets at a distant enemy was fine but the up close clashes that resulted every time the fallen shocktroopers would pile high enough to allow their brothers to charge over barricades or a destroyer blasted fortifications open had taken its toll on the old mage. His ragged cloak was charred and blackened, his ragged facial hair burnt off in a few places. Somewhere in the fighting his hood had been torn off, his neck length hair slicked back by sweat. Walt was bleeding from under his armor, a shocktrooper's blade having sliced into his side after a plasma blast took out his shields. It wasn't likely he'd make it out of the city alive. As for Trost and Jayce the two most experienced soldiers sported only a few scratches and burn marks each. As the drop ship streaked over the city Caitlyn caught a glimpse of Viegar's high mages, their white and red robes flapping in the burning wind, being slowly torn apart by a steady onslaught of destroyers and shocktroopers, Viegar himself firing off blasts of dark matter before exiting her field of view. She felt a familiar feeling rise in her gut as the drop ship began its decent towards the southern parts of the city, those few parts still untouched by the iron hordes.
Elle had expected the assassination order after the invasion had begun, the turn-coat centurion striding through the halls of Zaun before stepping lightly into the elevator leading to Viktor's personal retreat. Of the entities with knowledge of the place a fourth were recently deceased. Faust had often visited the master of the evolution in his personal retreat, of course bringing his little plaything along. Elle ran a quick check of her railgun, the sleek weapon sliding off her back and loading itself as the doors opened. Oddly the guards let her in without so much as an ID ping, the traitor stepping cautiously into the rooms. Standing in the center of the multitude of panels that made up the dome shaped room was Viktor himself. The retreat was in truth a simple virtual reality machine, Viktor's mask creating whatever the Machine Herald wished to see. "Centurion 51-21-25, how suprising. Don't even think of trying to fire that. I designed you centurion. You think just because some yordle replaced your basic laws of operation you can kill me? Far from it." The railgun slid back into its case, Elle's servo motors locking as the Creator drew a collapsible blade from her waist, her shields dropping instantly. "I already made that mistake years ago. Now that insolent robot is hiding from my true sons. I don't think I'll give you that option."
Yasuo is a badass.