Testament XIV: With Indignant Rage
Bastards.
BANG-BANG!
Fucking bastards.
BOOOM!
Fucking piece of shit, degenerate motherfuckers.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
"I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKERS!" Lawrence screamed in fury, slamming his boot into a Prowler that'd tried to ambush him. The Prowler flew back, slamming against the building; It could barely recover when Lawrence shoved the barrel of the rifle into its mouth and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The Prowler's innards exploded outwards as the bullet tore through its entire system, splattering over Lawrence's face and armor. He withdrew the barrel, wiping the blood from his grimset face as he continued firing on other demons in the large, open field around Pittock Mansion.
You fucking bastards.
BANG-BANG!
How can something be so EVIL?
He couldn't imagine how many hundreds or thousands of innocent lives were lost in the artillery shelling. Neither he nor anyone else had even considered the idea that anything was left living here. And that was the horror of it. They'd been told that no one would be in the city- According to Hayden and everyone associated with him, there had never been any survivors where the demonic forces had wreaked havoc. And yet…
Lawrence gripped his rifle in a deep-seated anger. These demons had kept people hidden here intentionally. They'd kept them here to get bombarded for no other reason than to make the Slayer's forces feel a terrible guilt.
"You...you are all...pure evil."
BANG! BANG!
"EVIL! EVIL! EVIL!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"YOU MUST BE PURGED!"
"WOAH, WOAH, WOOOOOAH, HOLD UP!"
Watts had leveled his rifle on one particular demon, and quickly realized it to be one of those demons the Slayer had brought with him- One with a black & white horn pattern and one of those specially-designed suits Commander Hayden had crafted. He was followed by a few of those other demons, with the same bizarre color schemes. They were all wearing those odd suits of armor with leaf-like patterns.
"You look injured, are you okay?" One of the others, a smaller female demon with a single bright eye and pink-red hair and armor, asked him.
"I think he's suffering from something upstairs!" The first demon responded, annoyed by Watts pointing the rifle in his face.
"Moxxie, that's rude!" Another demon, a humanoid with black hair and the same black-white stripe pattern on her horns. "He's been through a lot, now!"
As the demons chatted amongst each other, Watts was stuck in a state of shock. All around them was hell- gunfire, screams of terror and agony, explosions and hellfire rained down upon the landscape-
And they were chatting?
Lawrence's grip on his rifle tightened, so much to the point that his palms were bleeding from the skin ripping. Niffty, not engaged in conversation, noticed blood droplets dripping off his rifle, much to her concern.
"Um, are you okay?"
These...fucking...bastards! Lawrence thought in outrage, his face marred by cuts, dirt and gore; He couldn't restrain himself from the broiling rage that manifested on his features.
You think this is just a fucking joke? ALL of those soldiers, with families, lives, attachments, jobs, emotions, wants, desires, fears and losses- You're SPITTING ON THEIR FUCKING GRAVES!
Lawrence could feel himself raising his rifle, towards the group of demons before him. Niffty was becoming alarmed, unsure of what Lawrence was doing.
"Hey, hey! What are you-"
None of you sick fucks are human. You wear our colors, but you are just as demonic as our enemy!
Just as he leveled his rifle at Moxxie, who noticed the action and leered back in confused shock, Lawrence noticed a far more threatening presence right behind the group.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
The rifle went off- but not at Moxxie; A few inches above his head, they whizzed by and-
(Queue 'DOOM Hunted' by Mick Gordon)
"RAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"OUT OF THE WAY" Lawrence shouted, just as a 10-foot tall demon barreled towards them, charging with its head down. The group of Hazbin demons got out of the way-
"SHIT!" Lawrence yelped, seeing the demon heading straight for him. Somehow, his instincts kicked in, saving him from a gory death as he ran towards the demon and slid under its lower hooves. It fell over itself, recovering quickly from the ground and glaring murderously at the group of demons, along with Lawrence.
"I've seen these big fuckers before!" Millie commented, firing off a few rounds at its body, to little avail. "These are...eh…Hell Knights, I think!"
The Hell Knight roared once more, shaking Lawrence to the bone. As he had nearly died to this thing, he fully realized the situation he was in- One mistake against this beast, and he would be red paste on the floor. It took everything he had to quell the rising panic in his throat.
But now wasn't the time to panic. He still had to tell them- The artillery, which was still shelling the city. Every barrage was killing more innocents, and he had to stop it ASAP.
"LET ME DEAL WITH THIS!" He suddenly found himself saying, much to his own objection. "YOU GUYS NEED TO GO TELL ARC TO STOP BOMBING THE CITY!"
"THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Moxxie shouted over the rising sounds of chaos surrounding them. "WHY DO WE NEED TO-"
"THERE ARE INNOCENTS IN THE CITY!" Lawrence managed to shout just before the Hell Knight charged at him once more. He moved quickly, sliding to the right just as the Hell Knight barreled past him. He felt his adrenaline pumping through his veins from the near-death encounters, something that was so exciting to the heart he knew he'd never find a more thrilling experience in this life.
However, he wasn't done- He swiveled around on one ankle, then launched himself off the ground, using the modified boots to propel himself up behind the Hell Knight; As he flew upwards past his tailbone, he pulled the trigger-
BRRRRRRRRRT!
"RAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The Hell Knight screamed in agony as a line of bullets slammed into its back, as Lawrence flew towards its neck. Feeling unstoppable, he realigned himself mid-air and aimed for the back of its neck, to paralyze it and take it down once and for-
CRACK!
In another second, Watts felt himself smacked by a powerful hand; He flew through the air- this time involuntarily- before slamming into the ground, rolling over himself several times.
That was it. He couldn't move- The shock absorption had saved him from breaking every bone in his body and dying almost instantly. Instead, he could feel his cracked ribs, his fractured arms and legs, and disoriented- almost whiplash- in the head.
Through the hazy eyesight he could muster, he could see the murky red mass that was the Hell Knight stomping over to him, seemingly smirking. In his final moments, Lawrence felt a burning anger in his chest- Where were those fucking allied demons? Why weren't they killing this beast before he could tear Lawrence from limb to limb.
He felt himself lifted up by the arm, causing him to gasp and choke on his own blood as the demon's hand tightened around his already-fractured appendage. The Hell Knight raised him, until Lawrence could see the piercing gaze of the demon, even in his wildly disoriented state.
The murderous desire behind its green eyes. The deep-rooted vitriol. The sophisticated calculation in its eyes. Lawrence was filled with an unknowable dread- This thing knew what it was doing; It was intelligent, as if it were executing a move in a chess match- And it enjoyed what it was doing.
As it opened its maw, Lawrence felt despair as he gazed down its pungent, slimy throat- Was this really his fate? To be chewed apart and eaten by this fucking abomination, that no one in their right mind could call God's creation? Why did God allow this fate? Why would God make him exist just to suffer this horrible, atrocious death?
Overwhelmed by despair, his eyelids drooped, before closing. He was...tired...
So...tired...
CRACK!
"RRRREAAAAUUGGGHHH!"
Lawrence suddenly ragdolled, as he was suddenly released from the Hell Knight's grip- He collapsed into the dirt below, fracturing another bone. He could only gurgle as he felt the pain stabbing into his appendages.
SCHLICK! CRACK! CRUNCH! VRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!
With what little physical movement he could muster, he turned his head to see what had happened...
But the Hell Knight was no longer there; Instead, its torso was cut in half, spewing blood out of its exposed organs. It collapsed into the dirt, and someone stood atop its body-
"Hu-uh!" Lawrence gasped and sputtered; The green armor, the orange visor, the oversized weaponry and profound aura of rage- It was him! It was-
"Soldier, are you okay?!"
Oh. It was just another one of those demons. His armor wasn't Doom Slayer green, but instead a dark-forest green; And he wasn't wearing a visor. He could see its brutish face staring down at him with concern, offering a giant hand to help him up. Who was this guy, anyways?
"Ergh…" Lawrence sputtered, blood pooling out of his mouth, and the friendly demon looking over him grimaced, looking back at the group nearby and waving Niffty over. She sped up to him quickly, and their voices faded in and out as Lawrence tried desperately to hold onto reality-
Knch!
"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" Lawrence gasped; He'd suddenly been renewed with an alien energy- He could feel his bones realigning, his cracked appendages beginning to heal and reform. He looked down to see that demon cyclops-eye girl injecting something small into his leg.
In moments, he felt physically repaired, but his fatigue had doubled- almost unbearable, as if his body had been sped through the healing process immensely. He could hardly lift his head to observe what the single-eyed demon girl was doing.
"This should help you out, soldier." The other demon, in dark-forest armor, reassured him. "You did great in that fight; I'm gonna have you transported back to reserve so you can rest and-"
"ARTILLERY!" Lawrence sputtered, spitting the blood out of his mouth and coughing profusely. The two demons looked at him in confusion.
"A-Artillery?" The armored demon asked. "What are you-"
"STOP THE BOMBING!" Lawrence shouted, almost in madness. The only thing he could think of was how many more civilians would die in the time it took to get the message back to ARC. "THERE ARE INNOCENTS IN THE CITY! STOP THE FUCKING BOMBING!"
The armored demon's hands flew to his mouth in shock and horror.
"No...That can't be! We...they don't ever take hostages! How did-"
Lawrence lifted his upper body off the ground, agonizingly, and hissed the message with bared teeth.
"STOP...THE...BOMBINGS!"
The armored demon's face scrunched towards the middle, rife with anger. He got up from his spot, running back towards the group and giving them orders Lawrence couldn't make out. Having gotten the message through, he collapsed back on the ground; Niffty, who was still sitting next to him, seemed more concerned for him than the message he'd said aloud.
"You shouldn't move anymore, sir! Just-just rest here and I'll take care of you-"
"Fuck off!" Lawrence spat at her. She was deeply hurt by his insult, expressed on her face. "You...demons...are incorrigible!"
Niffty looked at him with a sadness in her eyes that he didn't expect, one that went past her initial appearance. Lawrence, for a moment, could see another essence of her- Of another life.
For a mere moment, the battlefield seemed to settle; The gunfire, the explosion, the screaming- all of it faded out of mind- and Lawrence was absorbed into the small bubble of interaction between him and Niffty; Either out of mental security or to preserve his sanity, or something else entirely.
"What's your name, sir?"
Lawrence was thrown off by the sudden question. But for the moment, he felt as if he had a break from war, suffering, despair- And so, he took it.
"Lawrence. Lawrence Watts."
Niffty smiled, and Lawrence could see another image of her smiling- A short, young woman, with hot pink hair and noticeable dimples- A human. She was pretty- no, beautiful. Lawrence felt as if he were looking at a mirage, of something she used to once be.
"Hello, Lawrence. I'm Niffty. I…I want to help you. I want to take care of all of you. I hate seeing you suffer, Lawrence."
Lawrence listened to the soft words, falling on his ears like waves of calm. His eyes took in her features- A noticeably soft, beige complexion; Her skin looked smooth to the touch; Her kind, beautifully-shifting blue eyes...
"I want you to see more of this side of me. I want to talk to you more; I feel we have something...in common. Please...let us speak again...in the future…"
"W-Wait...don't go…" Lawrence cried.
And as sudden as it had been- it dissipated. The mirage of that beautiful person he'd seen was replaced by the demonic features once more- And her personality was no longer the same.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
BRRRRRT! BRRRT-BRRRT!
"RRREEAAAUUUGGGHHH!" BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
VRRRRRTTT-T-T-T-T-T-T!"
The sounds of war slammed into his eardrums once more, and he was thrown back into the mess of it all.
"Alright, you're all set!" Niffty exclaimed, patting his leg and packing her gear up quickly. "I'll have to leave you for now, but I hope we can talk again...mister…"
As they crossed eyes once more, Lawrence got another quick glimpse of that other side of her- before she turned away, hurrying towards her retreating group.
Now, Lawrence was left alone once again. In the midst of chaos. He grit his teeth, picking himself up from the ground and wincing- Although his wounds were healed, he could still feel the aching in his body. Steeling himself, he used his rifle as a crutch to get up from the dirt.
He looked around for a moment, noticing Sergeant Rhett in the distance, near the Pittock Mansion with the squad- their eyes crossed.
"WATTS, GET OVER HERE!" He shouted from afar.
Lawrence heard the Sarge's voice; But he was desensitized to the intense shouting. There was no urgency in his own body to move. He couldn't feel his hands anymore- they were numbed, and could only feel the weight of the rifle, which now felt as a part of him.
And still, all around him was chaos- A pandemic of fear and rage, wreaking havoc across the remnants of this city. Buildings collapsed- Explosions rocked the earth- Gunfire, screams of horror, battle cries and demonic screeching dominated his eardrums. This was something far worse than war-
This was hell.
"GODDAMNIT, LAWRENCE! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE, NOW!"
With what limited willpower he had, he pushed himself towards Sergeant Rhett, who was organizing the squad back together in the midst of pandemonium; which affected more than the residents.
Lawrence began to notice that, despite the upgrades they were given, soldiers were still being culled in large numbers- They didn't have enough time to adjust well enough to the advancements they were given; The demons were quicker, tougher and more aggressive, and fought as if they were bred for war.
Lawrence clenched his teeth, his entire body shaking uncontrollably, as he grit himself against focusing on the death and violence surrounding his being. He met up with the Sergeant at last- along with several dozen soldiers, separated from their squads and desperate for leadership in this deathscape.
Sergeant Rhett executed this role immaculately, as Lawrence noted- A bright beacon of authority and solidarity, directing soldiers to find cover and create makeshift barricades, as they moved steadily towards the Pittock Mansion to fortify.
"AHH!"
Lawrence looked to the back of the moving squad- Seeing Fritz stumbling to the dirt, a stray shot having gone through his calf.
"FRITZ!" Lawrence shouted, disengaging from the rest of the squad- Much to the Sergeant's alarm.
"WATTS, GET THE FUCK BACK HERE! WATTS- My men are DEAD, ACKERS! FUCK the civilians, my men are PRIORITY- PRIVATE WATTS!"
As Lawrence came upon Fritz, he heard a low whistling sound, though it was of no importance to him over the cacophony of war. He stumbled as he slipped on a wet piece of grass-
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
…..
…..
….
…..
….H…
Lawre….
...ead…
…*gaaaaaasp*..
Lawrence gasped for air, the wind having been knocked out of him from slamming into the ground so violently- The coughing ensued, so violent on his throat that he thought it would tear itself up. Flakes of dirt crusted his eyes and face…He was so disoriented he could hardly tell where he was, or what was going on.
Soon enough, his disorientation wore off, only for him to see-
"HaAAAAH!"
The severed head of Fritz, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his tongue hanging over the side of his mouth like a shot deer-
Lawrence scrambled backwards in horror, shock, grief; He was nauseous at the sight of his friend-
Filaments of his throat and veins hung at the end of his neck, bleeding as profusely as the rest of the meshed cartilage and flesh-
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH HAAAAAHHHHHH HHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Lawrence was suffering a panic attack- Was this really his fate? To die horribly in a war to protect his own kind from extermination? Now, of all times, he couldn't stop thinking of how horrid this feeling was- To witness slaughter, death, carnage- All inflicted on loved ones, friends, communities-
And it was real.
It was happening to him; He was witnessing it firsthand- His mind was erupting into despair, which sent him into a quivering wreck as he-
Suddenly, he felt himself lifted off the ground... His cries stopped, and suddenly-
He was met with the orange visor of a very angry man.
The Slayer.
He felt himself dropped onto his feet, stumbling around and falling back into the dirt. He felt pitiable, but as he looked up at the Slayer...He felt another emotion, beginning to manifest in his heart.
Hope.
He watched as the Slayer looked around the landscape; He could barely see his eyes as they darted to and fro rapidly, taking in the situation within seconds. In the next moment, he pulled a flare gun from one of the pouches on his armor, and aimed it up into the sky-
POP!
The flare shot out of the gun, bright-blue and leaving a trail as it arced into the air. For just one instance, every combatant in the area turned their attention towards the flare- The battlefield became momentarily quiet.
Lawrence watched as the Slayer threw the flare gun aside, then unsheathed a menacing shotgun from some rip he'd made in the air, cocking it.
And then, he shouted:
| "RALLY!" |
(Queue 'Command and Control' by Mick Gordon)
Immediately, soldiers all over the battlefield began receding towards the Slayer, almost as if they were possessed by the same energy of complete confidence the Slayer radiated strongly- Lawrence himself was affected by this new aura; He felt- no, he knew it was his duty to follow the Slayer's orders- He knew he would finish his objective if he followed this man.
With this brazen confidence, the soldiers rallied around the Slayer, firing at demons on land or in the sky- With precision bolstered by the Slayer's direction.
| "FORTIFY!" |
The Slayer pointed at the Pittock Mansion in the distance, where Sergeant Rhett and his squad were beginning to head inside. Many of the soldiers surrounding him nodded, sprinting for the mansion, enabled to far faster speeds by their boot modifications.
A few dozen soldiers stayed with the Slayer himself, including Lawrence- They hadn't followed the order, as if it were not directed specifically at them. The Slayer looked around at the soldiers, who formed a defensive perimeter around the Slayer. He raised his Super Shotgun, and the bloodshed ensued.
Lawrence couldn't remember any of it- It was all a blur, he could only recall single instances- The Slayer driving his chainsaw through a horde of charging Hell Knights, while the soldiers mowed down lesser Possessed and Imps- An artillery barrage raining down on the landscape, sending smoke and ash into the air- All the while, the Slayer giving orders left and right, coordinating the soldiers into squads and having them clear out the forest surrounding the mansion.
It felt as if only mere seconds had passed- And yet, Lawrence suddenly found himself standing atop a cliff overhang with the Slayer, who was overlooking the city. Lawrence himself was almost in a coma-like state; He'd been through too much violence and bloodshed too quickly; He was disoriented.
Suddenly, a hand firmly shook his shoulder, and he was broken out of the trance-like state he was in; Though he was still disillusioned relatively. He found the hand to be the Slayer's gauntlet, and he looked up to the Slayer, who himself was looking out into the distance at something. Lawrence turned his head and-
"What...the…"
In the distance, hiding from the sight of the Slayer's forces, behind a cluster of tall buildings, was a giant, pulsating mass of flesh and pointed teeth, almost resembling some kind of twisted, putrid fleshy infrastructure. He could just barely make out hundreds of demons in the nest, crawling in and out of the disgusting mass like ants. It was sickening to watch, and if Lawrence hadn't become majorly desensitized by combat in these past few hours, he would have vomited at the sight.
"What...is…"
Tap.
Lawrence looked up once more at the Slayer, who was now pointing at the grenade belt strapped around Lawrence's waist. Without a word, Lawrence unclipped the belt and handed it to the Slayer, who picked one of the grenades off the belt, aimed, and-
WHOOOOOOOSH!
Lawrence was almost swept off his feet from the sheer energy that went behind the Slayer's throw. The live grenade was launched towards the nest in the distance; After a few seconds, Lawrence gasped softly as it slammed into the nest and exploded. Hundreds of demons began crawling out of the nest in anger, trying to find the source of the explosion; It looked horrifying, like a spider nest was disturbed as hundreds of the creatures crawled all over the bulbous amalgamations.
Lawrence watched with incredulity as the Slayer casually picked more grenades off the belt, pulled the pins, then launched them at the nest rapidly; Numerous explosions manifested all around the nest, until eventually the structure was so damaged that it collapsed inwardly, sending a giant red cloud of blood and gore into the air, and collapsing the buildings around it.
Lawrence stared at the remains of that area; An entire block, demolished by a few thrown grenades of the Slayer. The magnitude of destruction was incomprehensible to him.
He suddenly felt a pat on the shoulder; He looked up at the Doom Slayer once more, who gave him a thumbs up.
And just like that, the Battle of Portland was over.
"Jesus Christ. Look at the damage of this place."
The two Hazbin demons stood on the overhang, which gave a view of a war-torn Portland; Buildings were leveled, craters littered the landscape, and smoke billowed from the aftermath. It was a morose scene for the two.
"Yeah, whatever. Looks better than the rest of the fuckin' Earth right now." The second demon replied bitterly. The first demon looked at him with dismay.
"Rogers, stop being gloomy, you moody fuck. There's already enough gloom and doom to go around back at camp."
Rogers, a short demon-humanoid with small horns, grey skin, black eyes and the usual ARC uniform, blew air out of his mouth disparagingly.
"It's what they fuckin' deserve, Bailey. World was always full of degenerates." He spat with vitriol. "I saw it when I was doing Dark Web shit, and I saw it in Hell. How is this any fuckin' different?"
Bailey, a taller and more buff demon with bullish features dressed in the same military uniform, sighed in frustration. He turned his head down, looking at the ground below him. A soft silence loomed in the air for a few moments.
"You know how long I've been in Hell, Rogers?" Bailey asked. Rogers didn't respond. "80 years now. I've been in Hell for 60 years. And it felt like a few months. All that time I'd spent down there was for nothing real- Drinking, fucking, gambling, killing senselessly, avoiding the Exterminations- And for what? What was I fighting to exist for? I had nothing. I had no one. I was just...existing."
He turned his gaze outward, towards the city. The broiling-grey skies of thunder and hellfire seemed to lessen around the city, and he could even get a glimpse of something blue beyond those skies. He felt tears beginning to form in his eyes.
"But...it's been so long. So long, since I saw a blue sky. Since I heard the twittering of birds, the rustling of leaves in the trees. How I would have given anything just to hear the sound of the ocean breaking on the shore, or to hear a river running downhill. How I longed to feel blades of grass run through my fingers- Or to have a head of hair, or skin that wasn't scaly."
The tears now streamed down his face, as he recollected on memories long past. Rogers was disturbed by the sudden emotions; For all the time he'd spent around this guy, he'd never seen him cry as he did now.
"I know how you feel, Rogers." Bailey said. "I understand the deep hatred and vitriol you felt when you ended up in that awful place, realizing you were forsaken by God himself. Realizing that you would be condemned to a place of misery and shallow impulses; I understood that rage against humanity, that grew with time, envying the beautiful lands they got to live on, living with such a gross lack of appreciation for their environment."
He turned to look at Rogers, who himself was depressed by Bailey's words.
"But you cannot exist with those emotions, Rogers. You have to let them go. Or they will eat you up and turn what's left of your soul into a husk of emptiness. Please, Rogers. Let it go. We're here now. On Earth."
He looked back out at the landscape.
"I finally get to feel the bark of a tree again. The grass beneath my feet. The soft wind blowing on my face. It's...euphoric. This...This is our paradise, Rogers. Our recompense for the suffering we endured in that Hell for so long."
He wiped his eyes, sniffling.
"Don't take it for granted, Rogers. Please. We must cherish it, and maybe, one day, after all of this is over...we can start a new life on this beautiful Earth."
He smiled at Rogers, who looked to him with a glimmer of hope.
"You...think so?" He muttered. Bailey nodded.
"I know so."
Contented in that response, both Bailey and Rogers turned to look back at the landscape. The sounds of nature calmed their nerves, and faintly, they could both feel a synonymous happiness in the air.
"You know, I was thinking: Why don't we start a farming business when this is all done?" Bailey asked Rogers. Rogers turned to him in confusion.
"A farming business? Why the fuck would I wanna spend my days plowing fields and planting crops then waiting several months for them to grow?"
"Come on! I mean, think about the long-term. Let's say the population happens to pick back up from this whole thing, we'd be kings for growing their food-"
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVHHHHHRRRRRRR-
Bailey and Rogers were interrupted by the faint sound of something flying by. They looked up to see something bright to the far right of the city. A bright comet, of some type.
"What the hell is that?"
It grew in intensity, and Bailey's eyes widened as he realized what it was.
"Oh shit-"
Pfhhhh!
The ball of fire slammed into the front of Portland, the shockwaves traveling all the way up the mountainside-
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHH-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Bailey and Rogers were thrown off their feet, smacking back into the ground. Their ears rang for a moment, but Bailey managed to get back off the ground, using his rifle to steady himself.
"What...the FUCK..was that?!"
He felt his heart drop as he noticed the ball of fire followed by several, smaller balls of fire, which began to slam into the city's frontline. The sounds of gunfire, artillery barrages and warfare erupted faintly from the city below once more. Gritting his teeth in rage, Bailey picked Rogers up from the ground, who was still disoriented by the blast.
"COME ON, ROGERS! WE HAVE TO GET MOVING NOW!"
They headed down the cliffside and into the forest, back to camp to regroup with the rest of the army, leaving only the grim sight of renewed warfare in the city of Portland.
The war had begun.