Danev

Why we were being debriefed on even half of the information that was being given to us now, I couldn't say, but here the 114th and 122nd were, being run through what appeared, to our understanding, the full extent of the plan to take Ba Sing Se's outer wall.

I thought for a time, at first, that we were being misled, deliberately given misinformation lest we carry inside our heads information that covered the full breadth of our plans for the wall, but who was I kidding? We were set to attack the wall the day after–New Year's Eve. By Midnight, assuming the plan was followed through and carried out to perfection, the new year would begin with our flag atop Ba Sing Se's outer wall.

Because a plan it was, and one that could work, but one that was dependent on all of us playing our roles. Artillery was to begin at noon of that very day, and so it would continue into the night and morning for a full twenty-four hours before our turn came. It was from there that our new battalion commander, a man by the title and name of Lieutenant Colonel Shazo filled us in on the rest.

"The Earth Kingdom is already aware of our numbers," he said, pointing with a small baton to a map of Ba Sing Se that showed both our numbers and a rough estimate of theirs, including forces position on the walls, and those that lay in wait beyond, as well as within the inner city. "Unfortunately, we were not able to maintain a degree of informational security."

No thanks to Deming, I thought to myself, glad to have tens of miles of breathing room between us now.

"Fortunately," the lieutenant colonel continued, "General Iroh has found a way that we can use this to our advantage." He pointed now to where our forces were amassed, hundreds of icons representing the numerous combat units across our ranks. "As our numbers nearly double those of the 64th division under Major General Deming, it would be expected that our forces would be the ones to launch a full frontal assault." He now pointed to the Earth Kingdom's forces. "However, the generals from beyond the wall have studied our tactics over the last year, and have come to expect the unexpected." His pointer moved to Deming's forces. "As such, the 64th will attack first with half of its strength. The deployment of only half of their strength, known to the Earth Kingdom, followed by the full deployment of our force will force the Earth Kingdom to rethink our approach. They will question their strategy, and in a stubbornness befitting the element they claim dominance of, they will hold their ground, and not press too much stake in either front." His pointer was back on the center of the board. "Ordinarily, this would be very bad for our troops, but you will have noticed that numerous brigades within our division have been assembling their belongings. Under the cover of artillery and the opening of the battle, a quarter of our forces will attach to the 64th division, and force a breakthrough where the Earth Kingdom has drawn their resources away, anticipating a much smaller force."

The Dragon of the West would hand the breakthrough over to Deming like that? Allow his forces to be the one to go through first. A part of me was shocked, but almost amused too in realizing that Fluke might just have been right after all and it indeed would be him on the other side first. I scoffed.

"Think that shit's funny?" Mykezia hissed, leaning over my shoulder to talk into my ear. "He's boutta let fucking Deming get through before us."

"Hey," I whispered back. "I'm not exactly happy about it either, but it's a good plan."

"Iroh's already empowered that idiot enough as is," Mykezia said, persistent as ever. "You really want a man like that with all the more power?"

"Of course not," I said. "But it's like you said, the man's an idiot. Even a victory like this won't be enough to hide that. Without a war to prop him up once this is over, he won't last past a year."

"You sound confident."

"Come on," I scoffed. "You've seen the man in action just as much as I have. Really think there's anything but the fact Iroh needs his men that's propping him up in the Fire Nation?"

Mykezia didn't say anything right away, listening instead to our briefing as it covered the 64th's unit deployments, and how their infantry forces, which would have been us only a few weeks ago," would be sent through the breach to eliminate and capture as many fleeing Earth Kingdom personnel as possible. When Mykezia did eventually speak again, it was to confess, "No…"

"Exactly," I said. "So relax. It's a good plan anyway." It was a good plan indeed, but if I was being honest, I couldn't help but now feel a hint of betrayal at the fact that our brigade hadn't been chosen of those to lead the charge alongside the 64th one last time. The others among me wanted the glory of it, but me on the other hand, I wouldn't have minded the chance to make sure Fluke would have somebody watching his back. But then again, serving with the 64th under Deming again, that hardly seemed a worthwhile trade-off. That was probably the reason for it, I considered, not about to be surprised if it was revealed to me that division command had been especially sure that us slumdog soldiers weren't headed right back there. But still, Fluke was still there…

"I know what a number of you are thinking," Lieutenant Colonel Shazo continued. "Especially those of you who were just transferred from there. You're missing your moment to be the first ones through, but make no mistake, there will be plenty of time to follow to win honor and glory between Ba Sing Se's two walls. I assure you that from there, you will have more than enough chances to bring glory to your name, but as for now, breaking through the Earth Kingdom's defenses is our number one priority, and even if it must be done under a different commander, what matters is that we win here tomorrow. Is that understood?!"

"Sir yes sir!" the hundreds of us of our battalion all spoke at once in person unity.

"Now report to your captains! They will run you through your company orders!"

And almost all at once, we all stood, my attention already on Rulaan–our captain. The thought of that was, without a doubt, an idea I was happy to grow comfortable with. There was nobody I trusted more than him to lead us, that was for sure, and found myself actually pitying the 122nd for not having lost their own leadership in the fighting at the Battle of the Outlier. The poor sods were still stuck with Amala, but I imagined that wouldn't stay the case forever. Our colonel, Lu Ten, he understood the value of us being led by our own. He'd find a way to make things right there. For the moment however, I could only just be glad that it was now Rulaan that the 114th followed, a surefire improvement from being given orders by Aozon.

It'd have been pretty damn messed up to say that I was glad the man was dead, but I could scarcely deny it.

I patted Riu's dagger where it hung from a sheath at my side. I couldn't just deny, however, that be it my knife or the change in leadership, his death as well as that of Captain Yuzeh had brought along a number of positive changes.

Because as Rulaan stood in front of us now, and walked us through what our company would come to expect in the fighting to come, one thing was made abundantly clear–this man cared about us. It wasn't because he had a career he was fighting for, or because we were resources that weren't to be wasted, but used efficiently. He cared because he was one of us. Perhaps his mentality was not one that would see him sitting on a seat at a capital city war council any time soon, but he was a man who inspired loyalty. So even now as he instructed us on how we would be facing the only city on the face of the earth to never fall to a hostile siege, I believed that things would work out.

We had the men, we had the firepower, and we had the leadership that, if ever there was one on Earth, would be the ones capable of seeing tomorrow through. But there was more, we had a plan, and not just for myself, but for those who stood at the most risk. When Rulaan was done instructing our company, he pulled me aside, and what he would say next would only do all the more to fill me with hope.

"Colonel Lu Ten came to me the other day," he said. "Orders have been delivered to the 64th to hold the 240th armored in reserve to be used, at worst, as part of the second wave"

"Meaning Fluke and the others won't be on the front line."

Rulaan smiled, and nodded. "And what's more," he added, "a request can be made to reinforce lost troops from the Dragon's own divisions from the ranks of 64th should the need arise."

So Fluke could be transferred. I stood there, pondering the thought, realizing just then that it was there. It was possible. Rulaan chuckled, and patted me on the shoulder before leaving me with that. Lu Ten hadn't been lying. When he'd said he'd figured something out, he'd meant it. He'd followed through, because that was what a leader did. So, I breathed out, and prayed that, just for a single day, for Fluke's own sake, the 64th's command could just show a fraction of that same capacity.

Colonel Eemusan

The tip-tapping of Deming's footsteps sounded from across the war table that I stood on the opposite side of our war table, lining up just out of sync with the mechanical clock in a fashion that only added to my already overwhelming anxiety. The man was seething in rage. The detail was one that hadn't been discussed those weeks ago at the Outlier fortress, but had been a hasty change in plans, no doubt meant to prevent a leak in information–a valid concern for this division especially.

"At the very least," I said, trying to clear the air, "We won't be lacking for reinforcements."

"You think I don't know that, colonel?!" he said, spitting the last word.

He was still staring at the map, his eyes full of rage as they settled on the icons representing the attache from the Dragon's Host that would be arriving in the midst of the battle tomorrow to help us force a breakthrough. Thousands of extra men: infantry, artillery, and tanks, all meant to help us be the ones to break through the "impenetrable" walls of Ba Sing Se. It should have been a good thing. Spirits. It was a good thing. At least, it was to everyone except for Deming.

"We'll be the ones to break through the outer wall," I reminded him. "That's a feat that…that's never been accomplished once in history."

"With his men."

"Under your leadership."

"With men that the Dragon of the West is sending me!" He slammed his fist on the table. "As if I would be unable to break through without them!"

We wouldn't.

"Even if we break through, it will be believed that it was because he let us!" Deming continued to ramble. "It won't be my victory. He won't even let me have that much! It's already his siege, his father's war! He doesn't need the renown, he already has it!"

I flexed my fingers by my side, forcing them to refrain from entering a fist. Even with the fortress from the Outlier, the division fully under his command, the reinforcements, and the acclaim of being first through the breach, he still kept on reaching for more, and more, and more. He was given a finger and now he was biting for the arm, the bastard. How has he not learned by now? I wondered incredulously, struggling not to visually shake my head in disgust.

"When the battle's won," I tried to force out, "the world will remember where it was that the breakthrough happened, and whose forces it was that led it. Your men will remember it," I lied. "General Iroh will remember it," I added because of course he would remember the complaints of a commander who'd make an issue of every minor decision. "And the Fire Lord will remember," I finished with, praying for it to be true so the impudence might finally be put to a clean and decisive end.

Deming stared at his map, his eyes still flaring from anger. "When the breach is made, I guarantee you that his men have orders to storm through the breach and secure as much Earth Kingdom territory as possible."

"It makes sense," I said. "It's best that our forces secure as much of the territory in the outer ring before the Earth Kingdom has time to reinforce and dig in. Fighting through the middle ring, mostly open plains and agricultural land, the Earth Kingdom will have all the chance they need to twist the environment to their advantage and make advancing a living hell for us."

"So Iroh's men will storm through, claim the most land and territory, while I'm left with a simple breach in the wall. And only after he's already come to hold us accountable and ensure the battle only begins on his word."

What does this man want? I had to think. Does he want territory, glory, renown, prestige? No, he wants everything. Anything that he lays his eyes on, he believes his by right, and so will lust after it without end until he has it. I stopped myself from saying any of this however, and just watched as Deming closed his eyes, and let out an exhale-one I thought may be indicative of him calming down, and it was, but just not in a way that I would have hoped. "We'll take this city," he said.

"We will," I tried to assure him, not knowing yet where he was going with this. He placed his hands on the tokens representing the units of the Dragon's brigade, and cast them off the table. "But we'll do it our way."

"General, I-"

"When the Dragon and his host attack," he began, "The Earth Kingdom will believe them to be the main force. They have more men. We will use that to our advantage."

"Sir, a plan has already been made for the attack. We're set to attack first as we are now. If you plan to change it, you should at least-"

"We don't have time for that, colonel. We'll catch the Earth Kingdom by surprise, the outer wall will fall tomorrow, and it will be because of us alone."

"The Dragon will want to ensure that we've held onto our end of the deal!" I protested. "The attack only begins if we are the ones to attack. If a rider arrives and sees we haven't-"

"You'll let me handle that," he said.

What the hell is he talking about? My mouth opened as though to ask just that question, but there was no time. I heard the click of the clock on the table, and so Deming spoke. "The hour has come, colonel," he said. "Now, begin the bombardment."

I stood there dumbfounded. I'd never been one to speak vocally out against orders. I owed everything I had to the man in front of me–a man I despised. How I'd fallen into his debt, I remembered all too clearly. I wanted to break free however I could, to put all that he did for me on the line and speak out, say something, make him realize what a fool he was, but where he was a fool, I was a coward then, so I could only salute as I did every time around, and pray that just as it never had been the dozens of times I swallowed what I knew to be right before, it wouldn't be the end of me this time around.

All I had left, after all, were prayers.

Fluke

It was noon sharp when the artillery began.

I'd been counting the seconds down until that first blast, right on cue in anticipation for the day we all knew was coming–our attack on Ba Sing Se's outer wall. And so it'd come-the staccato of blasts from behind our lines, perfectly placed with one directly after the other, flying overhead, trailing smoke behind. The line had promised fireworks over Ba Sing Se's walls, and so they came that day as explosions formed across the impenetrable city's walls.

They would persist into the afternoon and evening, lighting the wall even as the sun set with a series of blasts along the surface and up top. Gan, Gunji, and I watched from our tank as the explosions brightened the night from above a low-lying layer of fog as though the spirits themselves were battling in the heavens. Though we couldn't see, we knew they were hitting their marks, not that it would make much difference. Their wall wouldn't fall from our blasting jelly cannons, nor from our catapults or trebuchets.

Frankly, I had no idea how they would fall, or what Fire Lord Azulon was expecting us to do to make it so. I didn't know then as I watched the spirit world in flames above us, I didn't know that night as I fell asleep to the rhythmic thumping of artillery cannons, nor did I know as I saw on the hatch lip of my tank the following day among hundreds more tanks just like ours, gathered in rigid formation with lines of thousands of infantrymen behind us, ready to advance shortly after.

There were a lot of us. It sure as hell felt like more than just two brigades, but I supposed that I'd only really seen the bulk of our forces scattered across their camps rather than actually ever with any sense of unity. Still, it was more than I was anticipating for our first wave. I had only the vaguest sense of what our orders were, knowing that we were of the first wave that would be attacking the wall, making way for the other 2 brigades of our division alongside reinforcements from the Dragon's Host itself. I wondered if I'd be so fortunate to live long enough to see them arrive and secure victory where I imagined Deming would fail on his own.

I didn't plan not to. I had no intention of dying here today. Not on account of a man like Deming. We'd get through, I'd live through this, and it would just be another day. Another day enduring under Deming until this was over, but a damn good day that would be when it came. No more 64th division, no more Deming, a Fire Nation citizenship, and the world at my fingertips to live in. I'd just have to get through this first. And so we waited as artillery still blasted over us, counting down the seconds. They'd given us a time mark–two o'clock. That would be the hour when our first wave, us, would attack. That would be the same hour our artillery would stop lest we get caught in our own hellfire. That would be the half hour before the Dragon's Host would launch their own attack, the real diversion, and when the remainder of our forces would finish this battle.

It would work.

It would have to work.

"So you think Iroh's boys will be the first ones through after all?" Gunji asked from down below.

"Not if we have anything to say about it," Gan countered. "Already need to live through Deming's bullshit. Least we can get as a consolation prize is to get to the other side first."

"Need to avoid being blown to bits first," I said.

"Oh don't worry there," Gunji said light-heartedly. "I have every confidence that tank unit FNMBT-03E0197 will prove itself once again and make it there first." He was silent for a moment. "Spirits,' he spoke up again. "We really need a better name than that."

My mind went back to our tank commander Dojai from back at Citadel's training center. I scoffed. "A tank is christened on the battlefield," I said, mimicking his voice from that long-ago day, memorable to us all, I was sure. "Not a training center."

"Think we've done more than enough to earn something a little more catchy," Gunji said, the smile on his face visible from where I sat. "I'm thinking something like 'Iron Dragon' or 'Hot Fire,' or-"

"Okay how 'bout this," Gan interrupted. "You keep all these great ideas to yourself for the moment, and you choose whichever one you want once we're done with today."

A bold deal to make, giving Gunji full creative freedom.

"You really mean that?" I silently asked Gan, bending down.

He shook his head in an instant. I chuckled, but knew that, once again, all was dependant on getting through this first. "Well," I said. "So long as we get through this…"

"Which is where you come in," Gunji chimed in. Turning and looking below, I could see the lasting grin on his face, a far cry from how he would normally appear in the mere moments leading up to a battle, scared out of his mind and about ready to defecate himself the moment the tank rocked. That'd been him a month ago however. He'd done what was needed when the time came, and frankly, he was a welcome addition by now. Sure as hell made me glad we didn't decide to kill him after all. I still owed him an apology after all Gan and I had put him through. Now hardly seemed the time though. Last thing any of us needed was to get soft.

"Gunji," Gan said, breaking the moment before it could endure too long. "Time?"

Gunji snapped his head back to his instruments to eye the small spring and pendulum clock. "3 minutes 'til' 0-hour," he said.

0-hour. By hour ten, the battle should have been over, just in time for the new year and for me to become fourteen years old. Helluva way to celebrate, I figured, but I was hardly opposed to it. What I was opposed to, however, was the fact that the next 3 minutes would continue to gnaw at my stomach.

I leaned back in my seat, a blindingly painful knot forming in my guts. I just wanted it to start already. I knew how to handle myself in the heat of things. It was in the moments between the battles that things were starting to become all the more confusing, the last few weeks evidence of just that.

Maybe it was the fact that Danev was gone that'd made it all the more tricky. I'd only had Gan and Gunji who, though far from bad company, just weren't…him. Him and the 114th, the vast majority of those I'd come to know in my time in Citadel. Nearly every other slumdog who'd been part of the 62nd was dead and gone, leaving only our tank crew. We were strangers in this division now. I'd come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't serve under Lu Ten, alongside those I knew. My only way away from Deming and back with them was the end of this war, which was a good enough incentive for me.

I took a deep breath, and tried to set my mind elsewhere, hoping the next 3 minutes might pass all the quicker, but it was just our luck that another more viable distraction would present itself–a rider.

Close enough to the front of the 240th's ranks as we were, our tank crew was able to notice in precise detail as the rider in Fire Nation armor atop an ostrich horse navigated through the many ranks of the tank units to our left-the southwest.

"What the hell?" I questioned silently from my perch atop the tank.

"What?" Gan asked from down below, clearly not seeing what I was. "What's going on?"

The rider continued to dodge and weave through one tank after another until finally stopping at our armored unit out of every other. "I'm looking for General Deming!" the rider exclaimed. "Major General Deming of the 64th division!"

Figures, I thought to myself. "Rider from the others," I answered to my crew. It made sense, here to give the signal for the first assault to begin. I took a deep breath. It's happening.

All eyes of those who still had heads poking out from their tanks, joined by a few more rising now, turned towards the direction of our unit commander, who upon hearing his name spoken, emerged from his own tank, differentiated from our own by merit of silver trim running down the length of the chassis.

"Who's asking," lieutenant colonel Yuzun said, quiet at first before clearing his throat to say louder, "What's the meaning of this?!"

The rider's eyes turned immediately towards where the confirmation of identity was originating from, and so approached immediately, declaring loud enough in his haste that plenty of us around could hear, "The Dragon of the West is calling for the first wave to begin! Where is the division commander?"

"Relax," Colonel Yuzun chuckled. "We're set to attack in minutes regardless. What's the concern?"

"Critical redundancy," the rider said nonchalantly. "Which armored unit is this?"

"240th," the man responded. "Lieutenant Colonel Yuzun."

"Colonel…240th?" the rider asked, something in his expression visibly twisting in confusion, a state of relative shock. "What are you…you're not…"

The clatter of a second ostrich horse's footsteps could be heard, originating from behind my tank until a familiar visage showed himself–major general Deming of the 64th, clearly having received word of the rider's presence. All eyes turned towards him, most of all the rider's, something clearly very wrong with them.

What's going on? I wondered, following Deming's motions as he brought his mount to a stop and so asked, "What's the meaning of this? The Dragon of the West give his blessing for us to proceed, then?"

"Sir!" the rider saluted. "The Dragon's forces are ready, but…the 240th's forces here were to remain in reserve. What are they doing on the frontline?"

Deming's eyes turned towards Yuzun, clearly having wished that the lieutenant colonel hadn't made any mention of his identity or unit, but then traced back to the rider. "As commander of the 64th division, I possess a greater understanding of my units' capabilities and strength and have determined that the 240th will be part of the initial wave.

"The Dragon's orders were clear," the rider said. "If the waves aren't properly divided, there can be no assurance that your second wave will succeed. I need to bring this back to the Siege commander before the 'go-ahead' can be given. What units are being held in reserve?"

Something changed then in general Deming's disposition. His eyes narrowed, and his shoulders raised. There was an invisible tension here, and something far from settling was beginning to make its way into my mind. There was a reason our gathered forces had appeared larger than they should have been. This wasn't just the first wave gathered. This was our entire armored force.

"Deming's about to have all of us attack," I whispered.

"What?" Gan asked. I wasn't sure if it was a question born of disbelief, or perhaps just not hearing me considering how quiet the realization had been spoken, but an honest realization it was all the same. I didn't clarify myself just yet, but only watched as Deming's posture changed for the worse.

"None of them," Deming answered.

I knew it.

The rider's eyes widened, and I was unsure whether he would try and object or simply race back to the Dragon's Host as quickly as he could to get the word across, but he wouldn't get the chance to do either.

Deming turned to Lieutenant Colonel Yuzun and said flatly, "Lieutenant Colonel; kill this man."

"Wh-what?!" the commander of our armored unit asked.

The rider understood then the predicament he was in, pulled the reins on his mount in an effort to turn and flee while dozens of men from our armored unit simply looked on in shock and confusion, wondering just what in hell's name would happen, but wouldn't make it a single step forward before Deming did the job himself, and fired a blast of flame into the rider's heart.

"What the fuck?!" Gan asked, hearing the noise from below.

The rider fell.

The mount below him spun, neighed, and rode off, dodging between the thick metal carcasses of our tanks as it rode as far as it could from the blast, leaving its rider there on the ground, dead.

"What's going on, Fluke?" he asked again.

I couldn't answer. I didn't know how to.

Hundreds of eyes turned to face the body of the Fire Nation rider, killed by our own commander. The lieutenant colonel's own look of shock and horror was right there along with the rest of us, looking up from the body now towards the man responsible for the cold murder of an ally. His mouth moved, but no words came out, failing to form on the tip of his tongue.

Deming's composure had remained static, however, non-flinching, perfectly stable, that in itself more horrifying than anything else.

"The man was an Earth Kingdom spy," Deming said, now a moment of doubt in his voice, having already convinced himself of this.

He wasn't, I knew.

"He was sent by the Earth Kingdom to prevent us from carrying out our mission."

The man was one of ours.

"Fluke," Gan asked again from below, now joined by Gunji to ask, "What's happening up there?"

"We remain on standby!" Deming declared, turning his ostrich horse to return to the rear, to his camp, where he would watch. Watch what? "We attack in thirty minutes! Await my order!"

With that, he left, and the earth was still, the rider's still sitting dead on the ground in a clearing left between our tanks, more and more eyes joining to watch by the second. The silence was deafening, well until after it was known that Deming was finally gone. All I could hear were the persistent questions of Gan and Gunji below, asking just what in spirits' name was happening until, finally, another voice rose from the crowd around us to ask, "Commander Yuzun, sir! What's happening?"

More joined then.

"What are our orders?" some asked.

"Are we set to attack now?!"

There was no horn telling us to do so.

"Did he just kill our own man?!"

"Please, sir, what's happening?"

"What are our orders?!"

The lieutenant colonel raised his hand, bidding us to be silent until finally, he spoke, and to say only, "We attack when the order is given."

The decision was settled. Our artillery had stopped. This was meant to be the same minute too that we would attack, but instead, we sat motionless, waiting.

The seconds on our tank's clock ticked by, and finally, I could find it in myself to answer the latest question from Gan and Gunji combined, on the topic as always of what the hell was happening.

"Deming's gone rogue," I answered simply.

"W…what?" Gunji asked.

"General Iroh sent a rider to order the attack to begin," I said, lowering myself into the tank before closing the hatch behind me, a part of me almost afraid I would be heard and met with a similar fate if I didn't do so. "Deming refuses. He killed the man."

"What?" Gan asked. "Why?"

"Said he was an Earth Kingdom spy."

"Was he?" Gunji asked.

I shook my head. "He's going to have us attack right after General Iroh does. With all of his forces. Before reinforcements arrive."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Gunji asked.

Why do you think? "He wants this victory to be his alone."

There was a silence then, us now no different from every other tank in our unit. Everybody knew this was wrong. We'd watched an act of deliberate friendly fire right before us, but not one of us had done a thing. What could we have done? Shout him down? We'd be killed? Try to apprehend him? Kill him first? It'd be us against the entire rest of the division who hadn't seen what we saw.

"So what do we do?" Gunji asked.

And just as there was nothing we could have done then, there was nothing we could do now. I had no answer for him, and neither did Gan. There was only the ticking of the clock. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became hours as each tick of a second passing coincided with at least 3 beats of my heart, refusing to slow, the world around me moving at a snail's pace by comparison. All I had to the world around me was the darkness of our tank's interior and the thin streak of lighting coming through the viewport of my turret, revealing only in front of me Ba Sing Se's wall–ready. Waiting.

No different from us.

Only that everything we though we knew about what was happening was wrong.

We were supposed to be fighting already. Somewhere to the southwest, General Iroh's forces were preparing to attack at any minute, believing we had already begun to do the same. They would be walking into the brunt of the Earth Kingdom's forces, destined to receive those intended for us. They were walking into a trap. One that we right now were allowing them to fall right into.

My hands were shaking by my side as I stared ahead as the hour-like minutes went by.

Finally though, it came, a faint horn that grew louder, and louder, and louder with each second that it blew, and we knew the time had come. We froze, hesitated. We all knew none of this was meant to happen. This track was wrong, against orders, more a danger for the battle than anything else, and so while one armored unit after the other around the 240th sped forward, we were ground in place, slow, contemplating, knowing just as well as one another how wrong this all was.

Slowly though, perhaps at the behest of our lieutenant cologne's tank moving forward first, over the remains of the deceased rider, making it apparent to us that a similar fate would await us if we remained put, tanks in our unit began to shift forward, one at a time. There was no other choice. The attack had come.

"Well what the fuck do we do?!" Gunji asked from the rear of the tank, able to hear as other tanks passed around us, myself seeing them race past from the viewport of my turret. I turned my turret around. Already, the tanks behind us were being set into motion. We couldn't stay here, we couldn't go back, we couldn't leave. The choice had already been made for us.

"Well we can't stay here!" I said.

"Fuck!" Gan exclaimed. "Then we go! Strap in!"

The tank was in full throttle forward before I could even reach for my safety harness, but within a few seconds, I was able to get it on, just in time for the Earth Kingdom to begin laying down fire upon us.

They had range, they had the high ground, and they had perfect sight on our near two-thousand tanks as we rolled forward straight into hell.

The first blast of enemy artillery to come down struck a Fire Nation tank not far in the formation ahead of us, completely crushing it beneath its weight, pummeling it into the ground.

It would be far from the first, and sooner rather than later, the Earth Kingdom's defenses were coming down on us in force as we made our sprint towards the wall. Soon enough, all artillery positions atop the enemy's wall, be them catapults, trebuchets, or just earthbenders with sharp eyes would be firing down upon us, collapsing in a tank to our right, tearing apart one further to the left, and reducing the one behind us to dust.

I kept my eyes on the projectiles the best I could from where I was, opening my hatch to offer a better view. At this point, it was hardly offering any protection anyway. A boulder coming down atop us would have crushed us into the ground with, or without a hatch above our heads. As such, I kept it open, affording me a view of the top of Ba Sing Se's wall and a few brief seconds of their artillery going into the air before reaching the ground, allowing me the ability to call out, "Hang left!"

Gan did just as I bid, nearly colliding with another tank beside us. It was better than being right where we were, however, that patch of ground devolving to a burger out crater as a fiery boulder hit the ground, exploding into a brilliant fireball that gave the impression, for the moment, that we were fighting fellow firebenders. They certainly didn't lack for firepower, it seemed, no shortage of artillery left waiting for us above, no doubt having been set up in the pause left by our artillery's end.

"Fucker could've at least kept the artillery going a half hour longer!" Gan called out from the cockpit.

And why not too? I wondered, a part of me questioning as well why I was even bothering to ask, as though any of this made sense in the first place. We weren't supposed to be charging here; not now. It wasn't supposed to be the entirety of our ranks, but the incoherent stupidity of it all? Why halt the artillery if we were only going to attack now? Deceive Iroh into thinking we were sticking to plan? His forces were attacking too now, I knew. At least the Earth Kingdom's forces would be split. I was far from letting myself see merit in Deming's move here, but hell, if there was just the slightest chance this could work, I was going to cling on to it.

The casualties would be high. Were already. We were within range now of the wall that small arms fire began. It was the first plink against the bow of our tank that convinced me my strategy of keeping the hatch open was no longer a possibility.

I closed it above me, but not before watching the tank immediately to our right take an earth disk to its center, damn near splitting the thing in half. I tried not to dwell on the crew. There was no point. They were unquestionably dead, and more would continue to die until we were up the wall and over.

It was directly in front of us now, the top invisible to us. The only knowledge we knew it existed was that carnage still fell from it, tearing apart our units one at a time.

There was no way to tell accurately how many we'd lost already, but I knew it couldn't have been anything less than in the hundreds already. We had to make this quick. We had to get over. And we had to do it quickly.

"Gunji!" Gan exclaimed. "Brake!"

Gunji did so, bringing our tank to a halt only a few meager feet away from the wall, us having reached the edge of the world as far as any of us concerned. The only way forward was up.

"Ready grappling hooks!" Gan said. "Fluke! Get me an angle on a connecting point!"

Behind us, Gan worked on loading and prepping the grappling hooks while I kept my attention on my station, hearing a crash beside us to our left, and turning just quick enough to see the tank beside us eliminated in the flash of an eye. 4 more dead, I knew, and us soon too if I wasn't quicker.

My turret couldn't angle up, but was equipped still with a circular dial on the side of the turret used for measuring degrees upwards and downwards, appropriate for the grappling hook's 270 degrees of motion.

I craned my head upwards, trying to follow the wall, guestimating the height as best as I could from where we were.

Longitudinally, the grappling hooks were capable of covering a distance short of five-hundred feet. I didn't estimate Ba Sing Se's walls to be quite that high. However, firing upwards, we lacked the same flexibility. I knew the rough calculations and that our tank lacked the propulsion to fire the hook over half the height of a wall. As such, I couldn't just call out a degree of fire that would reach the top, but rather, gauge a good midway point where we would retract our primary hook and fire the auxiliary. The handoff would be tricky, and leave us wide open to no shortage of trouble, but it would have to be done.

I kept an eye on the degree circle to my right, switching my gaze every few seconds to peer through the viewport in front of me, craning my neck to find a point. I could see other hooks going up already. Not all made it. I tried not to focus on them, be it their successes or their failures, and simply focused on ourselves, even when another boulder came crashing down beside us.

"Fluke!" Gan called out, losing patience.

"83 degrees!" I called out.

"83!" Gan repeated, already adjusting the mechanism of the firing tube to aim appropriately, and soon enough, the tank rocked backwards, and the hook went flying.

"Hit!" I called out, able to see where it made contact about midway up. Beads of sweat were already forming on my brow at the understanding of the climb that awaited us, but there was no time for worrying anymore. Gunji had retracted the brakes, Gan had us inching forward towards the wall, pulled forward by our hook, and soon enough, we would be facing the sky.

The Fire Nation tank's treaded tracks were divided into two sections between two pairs of wheels for just an instance such as then when the orientation of the vessel changed in the span of a moment from horizontal to vertical. The design was made with the purpose of ensuring that in such cases, the tank's chassis would not come into violent contact with the terrain, and the design worked as far as that purpose was concerned. As far as seeing to the safety and comfort of the crew however, they'd paid less attention.

The transition was not subtle.

Where I could see nothing but Ba Sing Se's wall a second ago, I now was met with a new sight entirely before being jerked backwards from the change in gravity, half our tank on the wall, the other still on the ground, but we moved forwards, or rather, upwards, regardless. Now, I could see it all–the new battlefield we rode on, towards the top of the wall, or as far as my perspective was concerned, the edge of the world from which rock flew into the air and back towards the ground, towards us.

The tank made that final push forward, and the custody of the tank was no longer jointly split between earth and wall, now given to the former in its entirety. I felt the chain jerk, testing the weight, before securing. My heart jumped at the feeling, but we held steady. The chain had us. Between the gaps in our treads, the wheels' cleats had dug into the wall, and so we moved forwards, upwards, towards the enemy.

We'd reached the wall. That was a miracle in it of itself. I dared not turn my turret around to glance at just how many hadn't been so fortunate as I feared what I would see. I only looked forward, upwards. Forwards, upwards.

Such was the way our tank went, even as Earth Kingdom projectiles came down upon us. They were switching their priority in regard to targets. They knew we were rising up the wall, and that we had made ourselves the bigger threat to them. As such, they were down shooting at us, and now resorted to something far simpler for them, and far more fatal to us–simply dropping their payloads.

"Right in front of us!" Gan called. "Right in front of us!"

I fired forward, my blast of fire just barely making contact with the chunk of earth that'd been set to directly collide with us. It struck, breaking the boulder apart into separate chunks that still struck us now, though to much less a degree.

Our tank held steady, still moving forwards and upwards as it was. We would have guessed we had just reached ten meters off the ground and already the resistance we were facing was a horror. They were focusing on those who were highest, meaning a good few other tanks were next in the queue for death row before us-a grim thought as any, though an honest one.

I fired a followup blast up the wall. It went wide. They were too high up, too far away, and they understood that too, their own aim not being helped by the distance and unreliability of gravity and wind in this case. Perhaps that was a reason a number of them dared to come down to meet us. Or perhaps it was also the fact that within the walls, they were already waiting. I saw it happen to a tank beside us before we could be the next to suffer such a fate.

The wall opened, and from it emerged an earthbender in garment I hadn't seen before, a far darker olive green and an equally unique helm. His emergence provided him sight of the tank to our starboard side, allowing him to bend the earth in a fashion that swallowed the tank entirely, pulling it into the wall likely to pick off the crew while immobilized. I couldn't stop the man, but I could at least score a strike against his back, piercing directly through. He fell. Though I couldn't see it, I could hear as he struck another tank beneath us it the clank was any indicator. Forty-three.

Above us, the same thing was happening, platforms being bent from the wall to allow even nonbender archers and hand cannoneers a chance to strike. I fired on one such platform above us, breaking the stone beneath their feet, causing both to fall their distance of twenty feet to the ground, certain to die from the fall. Forty-four. Forty-five.

"Fluke! Port side!"

I turned. Sure enough, our time had come. An earthbender appeared, boulder already in hand ready to strike, but by some twist of divine intervention was stopped in place by one of his own allies from above accidentally dropping a boulder between the two of us. As such, he paused his attack, allowing me time to prepare one of my own so as soon as the boulder had fallen past us, I bent a stream of fire forward, catching him directly in the face.

His boulder fell to the ground as his arms scrambled towards his face in a failing effort to put out the flames himself. It'd do him no good, and he toppled backwards, dead, I was sure, before he would even hit the ground. I saw his eyes melt, it occurred to me before I shook myself out of it. Forty-six.

I shouldn't have gotten distracted. If I hadn't, I possibly would have been able to stop the earthen discus that struck us now, thankfully not as a direct hit, but still enough to cause the chain of our hook to reel back.

"Gunji! Lock-"

He didn't need to finish the statement. Gunji set down the brakes, locking us in place lest the momentum carry us further down. The chain held, and I turned my turret to face back up. Even at the top of the wall, eighty or so yards as it was, I could see the earthbender who'd launched the boulder, now preparing another. I doubted I would have been able to strike him alone as he was, but thankfully, he was providing me with a target that would have been near impossible to miss. I aimed for his boulder, knowing what it would do to us should it come crashing down on us. I let that understanding, that fear, build. I felt the energy already channeling, and extended both of arms, letting it flow, and so fired a blast of flame. It careened upwards, finding the boulder the earthbender had prepared, and exploded there.

The light it created was beautiful, as were the shards of flaming debris that came from it. I knew for a certainty the man was dead, as were those who came falling down after him, at least four, though some of what fell seemed to be only limbs. Up top too, however, I could make out the effects of what such an explosion had brought, the flaming debris striking more than one man there, likely to kill them in a matter of seconds or, if they were unfortunate, agonizing minutes. I couldn't know how many. Fifty? I thought to myself. Fifty-two at most? It didn't matter. We were thirty or so yards up the wall and climbing. There were more. There were always more.

They fired at us, and I fired back. We lost tanks as our allies were struck. We lost yards as we were struck, but we held on. We needed to reach the midway mark. I fired back to ensure that would happen. 51, I guessed. 53, I allowed the number to rise as I caught two with one blast, skipping numbers now as I laid the attack heavy on them and was unable to account for each one at a time, pausing my mind when the moment's pause was afforded to me to remember them together in one go. 56.

Soon, those Earth Kingdom antagonists on the wall began to pull back, retreating into their holes within the wall. "They're pulling back!" Gunji said, peering through Gan's pilot viewport as though that was a good thing. And maybe for those few seconds it was, but they wouldn't last. The Earth Kingdom wasn't giving up this wall. Not when we weren't even halfway up yet. Something was coming. Something bad.

And so it was.

It sounded at first like the crack of an artillery gun firing and I thought for a moment that they'd found more of our guns and placed them atop the wall to fire at our infantry and still advancing armored, but it wasn't so much the crack of a gun firing as much as that of the wall itself. It came from our left. I turned and saw as the earth splintered away. It wasn't our handiwork. We hadn't blown through. This was them–the enemy. The crack creeped forward, liking the earth splitting from a quake, cutting through the line of a tank far to our left, dropping it, shearing through another tank to our left, far closer, not even cutting the chain in half, but the tank itself in a red mist, creeping closer towards us. Directly towards us.

"Gunji, drop us!" I called. "Cut the chain!"

"What!" Gan called.

"Do it!"

I saw the crack grow nearer, not about to stop. It would tear through us, continue towards the rest of our men, cutting through their chains without end, dropping us all to a growing grave of armor below. It was only five yards at most away when I felt gravity give way beneath us. We were falling.

My eyes caught the split second sight of the crack extending across the wall above us as well fell, as well as that of light reflecting across our new hook as it fired forwards and upwards at Gan's last-second behest, and I wondered if it would catch. I hadn't given him a calculation of a degree, hadn't thought of the plan, but only made a call. He was eyeballing it completely.

Somehow though, we came to a stop, and the tank swung, back towards the wall, clashing against it tread-first with a crash that damn-near threatened to break the straps that held me to our seat.

The tank steadied, my gaze unblurred, and the sight was a different one now–a graveyard of tanks directly below us, growing one at a time with each passing second, ourselves just having barely avoided that exact fate. I turned my turret back around to face the sky and saw the carnage that still waited for us above. We were still alive for the moment, Gan's eyeball attempt to reattach us to the wall having worked, but only so well.

"Fuck," Gan muttered from his pilot's cabin, and I saw. The hook hadn't made it all the way up, only three quarters up at most before stopping there. It would have been a damn good shot if it'd been our first hook, but our primary grappling hook was gone, and we were down to our second and last, and couldn't make it to the top.

So what now?

I remembered what I saw below. What else?

The understanding was shared. The only way was up.

Gan said nothing. He knew it too. We had to keep moving. We were dead here as a still target. Other tanks were shooting their hooks up now too, climbing over the metallic husks of the fallen to join us, but of our first wave, I noticed as I looked around, we were about the only ones left. We were alone, and so it was no surprise which target was nest up for the Earth Kingdom.

A lone bender came down to greet us, eager for the kill. I killed him first. That was fifty-something. I couldn't remember anymore.

Our tank continued upwards as another boulder struck near our port tread, separating it from the wall for a moment long enough to make my heart leap, but we held somehow, still pulling up towards however far we could go.

We just have to outlast them, I knew. Fire Nation reinforcements were coming, and if they could make it up, secure the wall, we could stay here and be evacuated by another crew. We just had to make it that long.

We were almost at the midway point. Another shot towards the top of the wall removed a crossbowman from the picture, separating one half of his body from another as both went toppling over the edge to be rejoined with one another below.

Another hit struck us, and a bad one at that.

"Left tread's stuck!" Gunji exclaimed. Sure enough, I could see by turning my turret both ways, only the right was moving, steering us astray, upwards, but at an angle putting all the more pressure on our chain. The situation was far from a good one, especially now as the Earth Kingdom above became emboldened, an archer even managing to get a shot through the slit of my turret, grazing my right hand before a shot from my left ensured proper vengeance was met.

The angle of my turret was hardly a good one, only making the enemy partially available to me, just enough to see that they were coming down now to greet us. There were more Fire Nation tanks below us rising that they needed to take care of, but before then, they had to get rid of us.

"Gunji!" Gan called! "Get the port tread back on-!"

He was cut off by another rock of the tank, this one far more severe, lowering us a good few yards before we caught again, the fragmentation, I saw, having made its way through the driver's port, however, sending an ugly sharp into Gan's side, who clung to it now breathing an airy "Fuck!"

I fired at the bender responsible, removing their right leg from their torso in a bloody display as they fell below.

"I can't get it working!" Gunji called from the maintenance bay, unaware of the hit Gan had taken, and possibly for the best.

I turned, trying to wonder if I would notice anything obvious, but could hardly focus long enough to see something he yet hadn't, instead needing to turn back upwards to get another hit on a descending earthbender, somewhere near my 60th, that hardly mattering anymore however.

"Gan, you good!?" I asked below once the next man was dead.

"Damnit!" he called out, indicating that he was indeed. For the moment. He would need medical attention, and soon. But we couldn't move. We were stuck in place, the chain's torque at its maximum extent. We had to go lower. There was no other way.

"Gunji!" I called out. "Can you lower us?!"

"Chain's jammed too!"

Shit…

I looked up, watching another platform emerge from the wall. I fired. A clash against our hull sent my shot awry however, missing.

More were coming down. I looked to either side of us for signs of advancing Fire Nation tanks. Any that made it high enough were brought and those new that joined the fray were still too low to help, destined only to join the graveyard of iron below. We couldn't stay here. We couldn't stay here and live.

"We need to sever the chain," I said quietly.

"We're-" Gan coughed. "We're too high," he said. "We'll die."

"We'll die if we stay here! Gunji! Cut the chain!"

"Don't do it, Gunji!"

More Earth Kingdom soldiers were coming down, an earthbender in particular readying to stop beside us, but focusing on them wouldn't change anything. They weren't the ones I was fighting. I turned to look at Gunji, and watched as he sat there, almost as helpless as he was back in the day, eyes darting back and forth between the two of us, the power in his hands alone now, Gan too weak to move on his own.

"Gunji-" I said.

"Don't cut the fucking chain, Gunji!" Gan yelled.

I turned in time to see the earthbender come to a stop beside us.

Gunji's eyes settled on me, staring with intent as I darted my head back, knowing time was running out. "You need to cut the chain!"

"Don't do it, Gunji!"

I looked again, and saw as the earthbender prepared his attack. Either we'd be falling in the next second, or we'd be dead already. What awaited us below, I couldn't be sure, but I could only know what would happen if we stayed.

There was no mistaking that understanding in my eyes as they met Gunji's, and I yelled one last time, "Cut it!"

The gaze was broken as Gunji now closed his eyes, and reached for the lever to disconnect us.

"Don't!" Gan called out, but it was too late. I heard the snap of the chain, and felt as gravity took over. I braced myself, clinging to my seat, seeing from the corner of my eyes as the earthbender's shot went wide above us, and we fell.

There was motion to my side, from Gan's seat, in free fall, floating, untethered, and I knew in that second his harness had snapped, but it was done already. I held myself in place as best as I could, brain for the impact that would come, hoping, no, praying, praying for the best, that the right decision had been made. If the minutes leading up to the order to charge the wall had been hours, then these few seconds of free fall were made to last days as the world rose upwards to greet us.

I braced, jaw clench, chin tucked into my chest, and closed my eyes in expectation for the impact that would come.

So it did, and the world went black.

The first thing I noticed when I was awake was that I was hot.

Everything around me was hot.

I opened my eyes, and realized as soon as I did that I could only see out of my left.

I panicked.

It was only when I moved my head and the shards of ceramic from my mask fell away that I realized it was only a piece of my helmet that'd obscured my vision and nothing more, but that hardly made the situation a good one.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

My attempt to move had only made that all the more clear. My arm was stuck. I hadn't thought to look around me as opening my eyes had done nothing, showing only the turret viewport in front of me, and darkness beyond. Though looking to my right now, I could see what the problem was.

My arm was stuck.

The steel hull of the tank had bent around it, trapping it, and it was hot. So hot.

What happened?

I looked away from my arm, believing it a problem for later perhaps, and so tried to focus on something, anything else.

It would only make things worse. Looking down towards the cockpit, I could see nothing. The seat was empty. Gan, I tried to say, though no words would come out. My throat was dry, enough so that breathing was a pain and talking, well, talking wasn't going to happen.

I looked for him, though I saw nothing, his seat empty, the straps broken. Did he cut through? Get out somehow? "Gan," I tried to say again, now little more than a croak, trying to move again only to be reminded of the fact that my arm was stuck, and it burned. Spirits, it burned. The moment of strain invited a recoil, a spasm in my body as my torso keeled over, and placed me face to face with a sight I wasn't prepared for–Gan.

The earthen shard was still dug into his guts, the blood around it dried, but he hadn't died of that. The back of his head was a bloodied mess, as was the spot of the wall that it'd clashed against. His restraints had broken. The crash had killed him. I had killed him.

I swallowed, the pain almost as startling to me as the way in which I felt the beat in my chest immediately pick up, one beat coming in short succession after the other. I was struggling for breath, and I lurched towards him, forgetting yet again about the fact that I was stuck in place. I couldn't move. My arm screamed, and as did I.

I turned back towards my arm. Spirits, It looked bad, bending a way it really shouldn't have. It was hot, and I could tell why now. It was burning. Our tank was on fire. It was isolated, for now, but wherever my arm was, buried into the chassis, it was lit aflame.

Fuck, I thought to myself a I tried to wriggle it free to no avail. I couldn't pull it out, couldn't get it free. "Fuck," I said louder, left only after with the silence and the image of Gan in my head. I needed to get to him. Needed to see if anything could be done. Nothing could. I knew that, of course, but it made no difference. I had to check. To try at least. There was nothing more in that moment but that intention and the silence but for another single noise save that of flickering flame.

It was a voice.

"Fluke," it said.

I turned, abandoning in a moment the cause of freeing my arm to look. My head turned to Gan. The man was still dead. Dead as he was that minute ago. It wasn't him, and staring at his agape mouth and dead eyes as the word came again was all the more proof of that.

"Fluke," I heard again.

My heart jumped. I turned.

How Gunji was looking the way he was and still alive was too ridiculous to be possible.

He was a bloodied mess. His helmet had fallen off of his head, revealing pieces of his skull showing where they shouldn't have been. His left arm broken, right leg a stump. I couldn't see his face through the blood, but I could hear him as he said again softly, "Fluke."

"Gunji!" I called out with a cough, no doubt from the accumulating smoke within our hull. "I'm coming!"

I tried to pull my arm out again, hoping maybe that the necessity of needing to reach Gunji would give it that extra needed strength. It did not, but only exacerbated the pain.

I needed to get myself free. I needed to get it free to help Gunji. I turned back towards it. I had lost all feeling in it, the pain now mostly from midway between my elbow and shoulder up, about all of it that was free. I had to get the rest out. I reached for my knife from my belt, jamming it somewhere I thought the leverage might be of aid, and tried to lift, but only snapped the blade. It did nothing.

I was panicking again, my breathing getting faster.

"Hang on, Gunji!" I said, not waiting for a response. I placed a hand on the steel. I knew what had to be done, and knew that it could be done, but was well aware of what the cost would be as well.

There's no other choice, I told myself. If I did nothing, Gunji was dead. I might nearly die from what I had in mind, but if I did nothing, then Gunji was gone. I let that fear take over. I let it dominate me. That fear…that base instinct…it knew how to get the job done, how to let me know what needed to be done, and be capable of it. It would be no different at that moment.

I took a breath, and placed a hand on the steel, and let the heat flow. The effort was sure to be a slow one, and a painful one too, but there was no other way. The heat grew, and I was no longer sure if a result of myself, or the fire growing in the tank.

It was getting harder to breathe with each passing second for myself as well, mostly, as for Gunji. He would die here if nothing was done.

The metal began to soften in my grip. I could see its color begin to change, an orange rising where there was only gray below. If I'd believed I couldn't feel my arm before, then I was proved wrong now with an all new pain that took over–overwhelming, searing through me.

I pushed through it. It was working, I knew. I could feel the grip on my arm loosening, accompanied by the pain that came from each moment of exposure to semi-molten steel, encompassing the wound. It was getting harder to see, to breathe, to feel, but I persisted. I wasn't going to die here. I wasn't going to let Gunji die here.

My vision was darkening, from pain more than from smoke, but it was working. I felt that freedom there, the pain overwhelming, sure, but minus that sound tightness of my arm being trapped, and so using my still good left arm, I pulled it free. The sight awaiting me was not a pleasant one. My arm was a mutilated mess: broken, bloodied, burned through. I thought I could see bone, the sight in itself enough to nearly make me pass out, but there was another matter–Gunji.

I hugged the dead arm to my side, using the one still available to me to unstrap myself, failing, the buckle stuck. My own knife broken, I reached down for Gan's belt, managing to find the hilt of his.

I cut through. I only realized then our tank wasn't upright as I fell from my seat. Or perhaps that was less a matter of the tank not being upright as much as it was that I was weak, on the verge of death, hanging on by a thread.

I was met face to face with Gan and his dead eyes once again, and there was no longer any hope of questioning it. The man was dead. But Gunji…

I crawled over Gan, forcing myself not to think about his last words, a warning to us not to cut the hook, that it would kill us all. He'd been right about himself, but I wouldn't let it be true for me, nor for Gunji.

"Gunji!" I coughed, dragging myself closer towards him, reaching forward to try and find him with my hand where my eyes failed me. "Gunji!" I called again until, finally, I found him, my left hand touching thread and armor. I pulled. "Gunji!" I called one last time, pulling with all my strength to turn him towards me. So I did, turning him on his sight, greeting me now with a look of horror, but one that did not flinch at the sight of me. One that didn't change because it couldn't. He was dead. Gunji was dead.

"Gunji!" I cried, refusing to believe it, choking on the smoke that now burned my eyes and every part of me. I held on to him, shaking him, thinking maybe I could bring him back. "Damnit, Gunji!" I croaked out, now keeping my mouth shut upon the realization of just how much it hurt to speak, to breathe, to do anything. I turned. The fire in the tank was growing, the smoke thickening.

I turned back to Gunji, about to shake him again, to get him out before he would die here too, but it was too late for that. He already had. And I will too.

The fire was growing, I was already on the verge of death as I was. How wouldn't I? Gan was right. We should have fought it through, tried our luck there, but I'd done this. I'd killed him, I'd killed Gunji, and I would kill myself here too. Damnit.

There was a light however. One fainter from the rest. I thought it may just have been a different fire, and so turned to face it, perhaps ready to greet the inevitable fate that awaited me, and though it was fire, it was not one of our own tank.

The entire rear of our vessel had been torn off, I saw for the first time now. Beyond it, the husks of countless others, stacked atop one another as well as us in so many different states of destruction. But there was a gap, and beyond, the slightest hint of black, of a night sky.

I turned back to Gunji in my arms, and Gan beyond them. I'd made a choice, and it'd killed them. There was no way of knowing what would have happened if we'd stayed, if we would have lived, or all died all the same, but whether it was instinct, or a refusal to be wrong, I let Gunji go, knowing nothing more could be done for him, and reached forward to clasp onto what I could find of my belongings–my small bag that'd come with me from Citadel, knowing I would need it if I made it far enough. There was a way out. I saw it in front of me. I would take it.

It was no different from Citadel, clawing through trash, bricks, gravel and debris in search of the smallest morsel of food. Only this time, it wasn't a half-eaten apple core I was digging out, but myself. I pulled myself up, clawing through armored tank hulls, cutting myself all the way, placing my leg where I could, and dragging my dead arm beside me. I couldn't feel it in the slightest, but that didn't matter. I didn't need it. I was going to get out all the same, so I clawed myself forwards and upwards, towards that night sky, because I wouldn't accept anything less.

So I struggled. Struggled as much as I could as my arm slowed me down, my legs gave out beneath me, and my eyes closed from the smoke, and my lungs did as well. I saw my vision go black once again, and determined that, if worse came to worst, at least I had tried.

At least I had fought.

I should have died there

Somehow though, I hadn't.

Somehow, I had pulled my way through, clawed my way out, and emerged in a night sky beneath a blanket of smoke and smog.

There was no moon that night, no star I could see beneath a thick sheet of soot and smoke as left by artillery and destruction.

The only light available to me as I stood in a field of dead was that of the fire that consumed a thousand tanks, burning ever bright, a mass graveyard of steel.

Nowhere around where I stood, helmet held in my good hand, was free of death. Not the earth where hundreds of Fire Nation bodies were strewn, cut down without mercy, nor a few hundred feet in front of me now finally, by the wall, where my tank and crew, as well as hundreds others, burned.

There would be no survivors. How I myself had survived, I couldn't say for certain, most of it now a blur in my mind much like the sight of pure hell in front of me.

I watched, helpless, wondering if in there somewhere, there were others like me, clawing for every last breath, fighting to the end. I didn't know if it would have been a good thing if they were. If it spoke to their commitment, or it only extended their last moments of suffering and pain before death. I didn't know anything. I thought I had, and thought that I could save Gan and Gunji, but they were dead, and they were dead because of the decision that I had made. Maybe we all would have been dead anywhere if nothing had been done, who could say?

But there they were, all around me, the 64th division, dead. Killed without mercy by the Earth Kingdom. I saw the infantry around me now, slaughtered in place. Whether they'd tried to surrender or not, it hadn't mattered. They were dead. Over ten thousand men dead in the span of a single day, a single battle. And for what?

I should have been dead, should have been killed here. And maybe I had been. Maybe I was still in that pile of burning armored units there, watching now from a distance only, disappointed in what I had done, in refusing to leave when given the chance, in staying around this long, in allowing myself to care about those around me only to watch them die again.

But I had that chance now again.

Turning to my right and behind me, I could see that there was no glow of the fire. There was no wall of Ba Sing Se visible. There was the woods. The same ones that we'd marched through from Citadel. They were still there. Beyond? Who knew? The ocean maybe? A settlement? A town untouched by the war? I could abandon my uniform, set it down now and travel only in my smallclothes. I'd been fighting since Citadel to find a way out, and here it was, right behind me should I choose to step that way.

It was the easiest thing. I was dead here. Dead to the Earth Kingdom, dead to the Fire Nation. I was a single man. They wouldn't come looking for me, friend or foe alike. I could turn back and never see this city again.

So why don't I?

I can die here. I can do what I was told to do from the start, and leave. I wasn't meant to be here. I never was. I'm a slumdog who is lucky only once. A Fluke. A slumdog who can't protect those around them, who only gets them hurt or killed.

So why am I not leaving?

I can't save them, so why? Why am I still here, and why am I looked south, to the Dragon's Host?

They were there, I knew. Somewhere. The Earth Kingdom hadn't killed them all. Not yet. They'd done it here. Killed Gan, Gunji, Dojai before. Killed those of the 29th brigade, as well as all those others of the 64th brigade.

I turned back to the fire. They'd done this, and would do it again, but that wouldn't happen.

I couldn't save those who were killed here, I couldn't stop myself from failing to save more, but it wasn't about me. It never was. It wasn't about what I wanted, not anymore. I felt something new now. A new energy. Not born of fear, but something else. I didn't need to win this, didn't need what came after this. I didn't care. None of that mattered.

I raised my helmet, and placed it over my head, all I could see now was no longer the top of the wall, the wilds to my right and left, the chance for escape behind me. Through the slits of my helmet, there was only what the Earth Kingdom had done, what they'd taken, and I was going to return the favor.

I was going to kill every last one of them.