Beta walked down the street of a ruined city. She would always look around the recently fallen enemy settlements, after the last pockets of resistance had fallen. The prime obsidian didn't know what compelled her to act this way, but it just somehow felt right.

Ruins lined up the road from both sides, massive holes wracking their previously aesthetically pleasing exterior. These buildings were still somewhat standing, as they were closer to the city centre, and so weren't bombarded for long. A massive contrast form the outskirts.

The outer layers of the city were completely gone, nothing more than piles of rubble and bodies. There wasn't a single building which wasn't bombarded. Everything was annihilated so that enemy simply couldn't have any positions from which to defend the city. After the outer layers, which contained most fortifications were destroyed the gem armies would surge into now mostly defenceless cities.

Such way of taking a city was a very elongated and a very brutal affair. It was originally based on the fact that gems could fight for huge amounts of time without any supplies, while organic creatures required rest and nutrition. Supposedly, because of this, the organic armies would crumble under the unending gem assaults as they would be constantly denied their necessities.

But Alpha and Omega, who had devised all of the strategies just after the first battle, failed to notice a very important fact. A cornered organic creature had nowhere to retreat, nowhere to escape. An organic creature cornered in its home fought not only for itself, but also for its mate and for its offspring. An organic creature cornered like this fought with the ferocity unmatched by even the most brutal of Sharded.

Every street became a battleground. Every floor of every building was covered with bodies of killed terka and litered with gems, either broken or just poofed. Every step was fought for. Every street became a brutal brawl. Every city block became a battleground. Every city became a war onto itself.

Beta hated this. This wasn't the war she was created for, she told to herself. This was brutal, insane, and chaotic. A war where victors were determined not by their martial prowess, but by numbers of bullets and ability to hide quickly. A conflict where only numbers mattered: numbers of shells, numbers of assaults, numbers of bullets, numbers of enemies, and numbers of shards…

She didn't know why she felt this way, nobody else expressed such feelings. In fact some even showed open enjoyment at such a gruesome way of war. Many obsidians openly smiled as they were forced to fight for every step, and she could swear she had heard several lapis lazuli gems laughing maniacally when evading anti-air fire, even when their comrades were completely obliterated by the shells.

This unnerved the prime obsidian greatly. Why couldn't she enjoy performing her purpose? Why did she saw this warfare like this, even though she and others like her were created to fight it? Was she made wrong? Was she defective?

These doubts had persecuted the dark grey gem ever since the crusade had approached the more fortified planets of the terka realm, and the conflict had truly begun to escalate. And no matter how she tried to assure herself, no matter how many times she went to Morganite. They disappeared only briefly, and would always return after battle, no matter how great it was.

And this time was no different...

Citrine was waiting for her in the main room. The quartz soldier was sitting next to the huge table and performing a task she loved to do, polishing her battle-axe. She performed this after each battle, even though the weapon was rarely used, as it was quite unwieldy in the tight corridors in which most of close quarters combat now occurred.

Beta walked to the table and sat in front of her quartz companion. They both sat in silence for some time. The yellow quartz was busy maintaining her weapon, while the prime obsidian was still contemplating her resurgent.

Beta looked directly at Citrine and something occurred to her. The yellow quartz was older than her and fought in other campaigns that had happened before the crusade. She could know why Beta felt this way about the war with the terka.

The black gem asked Citrine to tell her stories about the wars and campaigns she took part in. And with a smile, which Beta absolutely adored, on her face yellow quartz began telling stories.

She told the prime obsidian of completely forest covered worlds, where four or even five quartzes had to fuse to even be able to fight the great monsters of the jungle.

She told the obsidian about a world, seemingly dotted with numerous hills on its otherwise almost even surface. Only for the hills to turn out to be hives of huge insects, which reached the size of rubies, and could even overwhelm topazes with absolutely massive numbers.

She told her about a moon, whose outer layer was covered in thick ice, but inner layer contained blind monstrosities, which stalked and assaulted gems from complete darkness they lived in.

Citrine told Beta stories for nearly a cycle, pride in her past victories, clearly visible in her posture and gesture. The prime obsidian listened closely, completely fascinated with stories of what she had never experienced, but wanted to with every fibre of her gem and her form. Wars she knew she was destined to fight in. Campaigns for which she was made for.

And after the quartz ran out of stories the obsidian asked her.

"Does this war remind you of those?"

The yellow gem seemed quite surprised at the question, and simply sat silently for some time before answering. And when she did spoke, every word was carefully chosen.

"No, this is not like those wars… This is not a war a proper warrior gem could enjoy.

We were created with powerful forms, so that we would be strong and be able to wield great weapons. We were made to fight great beasts and monsters. We were forged to fight champions. To take the enemy head on and defeat them in melee combat.

And yet now…

Now we are forced to run around and hide like cowards. To negate our purpose by using ballistic weaponry, copied from a lesser organic race none the less! To adapt their tactics, their technology, like we were the weaker ones!

No this is not like those wars, it will never be…"