"We can't hold them back much longer, Major!"

The scream of missiles was an ungodly roar in downtown, Washington D.C. Once a city adored by tourists and locals alike, now a fiery pit of rubble surrounded by warfare. Worse still, the pushing resistance of the tripod calamity. Wasting each missile that could level a small hamlet against a transparent orb. Each detonation of the Marines' weaponry before contact was another desperation for the next – only surmounting to failure. Then the objective was clear, to give as much time for D.C.'s people to flee. Millions of dollars and manpower to be squandered for the luxury of time.

Major O'Malley ordered over the humvee radio, "Keep firing! Everything we've got! We give the civvies as much time as we can!"

Tripod limbs broke through the burning White House like a child's foot in the sand. The Washington Monument swiftly falling after. Each step crumbling buildings under the quake, following their white laser beams that sent static into the air. Eviscerating any and everything it touched. It would send pillows of dust into the air like mist. Then linen raining from the ashes only to confirm the cremation of Washington's screaming populace. All to remain of their existence the last shreds of clothing they wore. 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue was a sector of their malice. Three or four was enough to churn the once heart and pride of the United States into a whirring and wailing song of the tripod engine. Their machines nearly in sync like a celebratory cry. A victory above the agonized screams of the fleeing civilians below. Simply being zapped into dust like unruly pests. Among the chaos was the destruction of the Marines – once a battalion now a clawing platoon. They had taken arms against the adversary and had underestimated them, even with all their might that would make even the staunchest country surrender.

Now what remained of their men was a platoon – trying their utmost to keep the crowds of harrowed civilians safe for as long as they caught breath.

"Get them to the subways underground!" The Major howled over his radio, barely hearing his own voice over the missiles.

"Two more down before the tunnels, we'll never make it!"

Then two unfamiliar choppers flew over head, not of the Marine Corp. However, they were easily recognized as National Guard.

Another voice cracked through Major O'Malley's radio. "This is General Jeremy Webb of the National Guard unit Scouts 84. Cease fire and retreat with the civilians down 18th Street NW immediately! That's an order!"

"Sir?"

"Right now!"

"They will flurry at us if we do, sir!"

"If you want those civvies in the sub tunnels, you'll do as I say, Major."

In the sky, General Webb had a haunting spectacle of the capital. Half a dozen tripods in sight total. Two being delayed by Marine efforts and four grouped together deeper into downtown from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Walking together like harbingers of the apocalypse. Apathetic and predatory.

The General hissed through his radio after switching to another channel. "You better be right about this, Orlov."

Riley, Lilja, and Shiva's humvee whipped through the main drag into D.C, fully absorbing the collateral. Buildings that once stood proud crumbled into rubble. Refugees fleeing for their lives down streets cluttered in broken down vehicles. Shiva and Lilja had never been to the capital, so the peak of terror in their vehicle was reserved for Riley. He had been plenty, enjoyed the pride of D.C. far more. To see it resorted into such visceral destruction and terror was becoming more overwhelming the more he observed. His mind was fast and vigilant behind the wheel, sweeping past broken down cars with an urgency. The rest of the convoy had separated into other regions of the city to assist in their strategy. The odds of it a success dejecting. However, it was still executed with the most precision. Each step needing to be fulfilled without a single mishap. And the first being Lilja and Shiva.

News footage did not do the calamity justice. For Shiva, the power of the tripods was unravelling before her very eyes. Proving just how small and helpless of a species they really were. Lilja had a different struggle. She saw the destruction like her own. Something she was born to do. If it was not her, it would be something else far worse. Something far more powerful. And it was here.

The civilians ran by covered in ash. Holding wailing children. Their eyes so wide and faces so horrified. So helpless and exhausted. Toiling with something none of them truly could understand. As they came to a stop, Lilja's doubt in her own capabilities froze her to her seat. There was no time for it, though. There's no time.

"Lilja, come on!" Shiva squalled as she jumped from the humvee and to the sidewalk. Riley followed her and ripped open the backseat doors.

"Let's go, Orlov! Move it!"

Lilja snapped back to motion, fumbling from her seat and nearly falling into Riley's arms. They were on their way to the roof of a fifty-foot building. A building not yet suffered by a tripod. A vantage point. Where they could see the battleground and their targets clearly. Out in the open the wails of hundreds were far louder. It would rise and die down like ocean waves. But the roar of the tripod engine was constant. As well as their thunderous steps that always accompanied a quake no matter how far they were.

The three made their way up flights of stairs, once an office now completely abandoned. They passed a few cowering civilians inside. Their goal was the top of the building. They breached roof access and already the battleground had changed. To Lilja's relief, the marines had at least fled to 18th Street. But the tripods were well aware.

Lilja pointed to three of them. "Those two closest together. They are coming up to take out the people from behind. The last one, the one that's slowing down is going to turn down that street and make sure they don't escape."

"And you're positive about that?" Riley asked jarringly. His eyes petrified to the mayhem below.

"Yes. The first two will take each street so no one tries to get away. They will come together at 13th Street. The solo one is herding the people to it. That's their plan."

Riley nodded shakily, "Right. Well, whole point of this is making sure we plan against it."

"I got an idea." Shiva said, she too glaring into the chaos. "Number one priority right now is making sure the civilians get to the subway, right?"

"Right," replied Riley.

"So, we got to get the tripods away from the advance so Lilja can disable their shields."

"Well, they're encroaching fast, if you're gonna do something, do it quick!"

Shiva could hear the crowd of civilians screaming, a neon sign for the tripods advancing their way. Tactile and auditory distraction may not be enough. Perhaps she could at least slow them down so the refugees would have enough time.

Her idea was a gamble, but so was the idea in the plains. She gave a chance. Any chance for the counterattack due for what they'd done to D.C. The two tripods were adjacent – creeping on each street with breaks of buildings. Shiva curled her hand to her chest again and bowed her head. If Lilja was right, they would both turn left to 13th Street. What if one thought the turn was earlier?

Suddenly one of the machines turned premature, ramming right into a building. Lilja and Riley were both confused. The building crumbled over into the other tripod's path. It was hard not to notice it's subtle confusion, as well. It flinched and jolted back from the falling rubble, shooting a stare to its comrade with three apathetic lights. As if it was plainly asking if they lost their mind. This at least gave the refugees a head start, and the Marines time to get them together.

Webb's apache was circling overhead – keeping enough distance from the tripods to spectate. The pilot asked in disbelief, "Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

Webb was fighting a smile. He was hoping it was the product of Shiva, and when it came to the third tripod, that hope was confirmed. It started to encroach on the crowd ahead, then made a sudden turn left. It pulled out its beams and the blinding aura of its lasers struck like bolts of lightning. But not down 13th Street. The Marines rushed the civilians into the subway at hearing the machine coming closer. Especially when the harrowing sound was accompanied by the ear-splitting zap. Like a fly caught in a window, only amplified with the world's largest speakers. It appeared passed the corner, leaving the Marines and even some of the scrambling and hysteric civilians utterly awe-stricken. Instead of turning a sharp right for the crowd of wailing humans, it continued straight. Zapping at nothing but broken-down cars and pavement. Just as Shiva intended. The crowd was in front of that tripod in her mind. So, it would be in whatever was driving that machine, as well.

Lilja was left with her mouth slacked, as was Riley. The tripod menace was becoming Shiva's sandbox. Able to transform anything into reality for the creatures as easily for humans. Of course, the marines, National Guard and Lilja and Riley had no inkling of what the tripods could possibly be seeing – but as long as it was working, it was the god's work. Riley slanted a bewildered smile. "Keep going, Shiva. Keep going!"

The pilot of Webb's apache said in a crack of his voice, shaking excitedly at the controls. "It's striking at the fucking ground! It just passed the civilians! Passed them!"

"That's Amani at work, officer." Webb said with a faint touch of pride in his tone.

With the third tripod blindingly attacking abandoned cars and buildings down another street, and the other two struggling to catch up after the clumsy walk into an eighty-foot building, the civilians had more than enough time to shelter inside the subs. Giving the Scouts 84 open targets. Lilja's moment was up.

Shiva released it, and she nearly fell back onto herself when the pain hit. Her face was flushed and nose pooling blood. Riley caught her and helped her to her feet. "You alright?" He fussed after her, pulling her back to the roof entrance door.

She pulled away, "Fine! I'm fine." She lazily stood straight and took that time to check her work. The tripods were where she left them, but resolving fast. The third tripod looked around for a few moments – as if it had lost the crowd and needed to catch up. But there was no proof of any damage to its prey besides blowing up a few vehicles and damaging buildings.

Lilja said lowly, "They're confused. They're angry." One tripod's horn blared so loud it could combust an eardrum. Shiva and Riley sheltered their ears, but Lilja was stoically unfazed. "They're calling for help."

"Then you better start disabling those shields." Riley warned. "Any chance you can start with Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"You want her to start with two at once?" Shiva berated, "The third one is the best bet. Gives Webb and the other apache enough time to get a strike before its friends get here."

Webb radioed in, "Orlov, we're waiting on you!"

"She's targeting the one on Gallatin street first! We'll radio when the shield is down! Stand by!"

Riley put his radio back to his shoulder. Lilja started to raise her right arm. She could feel the shield's resistance. The cosmic frequency of the machine. The entirety of the machine was a colossal consumption of power. Far more than she had the ability to alter. The shield itself was just a small mechanism – and even that would take a lot of her strength. The thought grew more discouraging when she remembered there was still five more in the area.

She wrestled with it for moments, straining all the blood to her head. Blood dripped down her chin, and her veins were fit to burst from her forehead. Trying to disable the shield was beyond her capabilities, and she would fall to unconsciousness before she managed it.

Shiva hushed, "You got this, Lil. Come on."

Webb radioed in again, "What's taking so long?! They're advancing to the tunnel, and eventually the lone tripod won't be alone anymore!"

"Orlov -?!" Riley barked, hearing the engines of the tripods getting closer to their building.

Lilja released then, filling both Shiva and Riley into dejection and panic. He prepared to steal them both back into the building to flee.

"I can't disable the shield," heaved Lilja, "It's too strong. I… I tried."

Riley's voice was now a boisterous roar, "Bullshit, you didn't try hard enough, do it again!"

Shiva pushed him back and stumbled to her, a glare of desperation written to her pale face. "We did this for nothing? No. No, Lil. You know you can. You gotta keep trying or we're dead, you understand me? I'm doing what I can to protect you, but you gotta do what you can to protect me and everyone else. Remember?"

"I can't disable it!" Lilja yelled back at the two, still facing the direction of the tripods. "But I can… disrupt it. Only for a short time. I cannot disable the shield entirely, that'll kill me!"

"So, it's about timing, then?" Riley asked calmer, but his eyes still wide.

"Yes." Lilja said, "A strong enough disruption by a weapon may break the shield better than I can. It's just about actually getting that hit first."

"Okay, so give us that." Riley pleaded, but still keeping stern. "Strobe the shield, or whatever. Just do something, we're running out of time here."

Lilja raised her right arm once more, glaring to the tripod like she was the predator. Desperately believing it to be prey. Convincing herself it was small, and she was the invader. She could feel the shield flicker like lights, like tugging back and forth. Her powers were in a constant pull, and every powerful throttle from her end was the shield losing its efficiency. She said in a strained and hoarse voice, "Shoot it." It was so quiet Lieutenant Riley almost didn't catch it.

He snatched the radio from his shoulder. "Now! Fire at it, now!"

Webb ordered it to his pilot, who swerved from the cover of buildings to the opening with the tripod in their sights. It reacted to the apache rotors right away, but missiles came flying toward its visor like a fury from a god. The first missile detonated on a shield. Then the second of the flurry impacted. Sending the troops of Scouts 84 and the Marines into shock. The tripod flew back against the strike. More missiles had a true aim. While others combusted against shield, few made it past – dealing enough damage to disable the shield completely.

Renick pranced into the air with all his strength. Tears swelling in his eyes. "WE GOT A STRIKE! WE HIT IT!" He grabbed ahold of Shiva without even thinking, gladly celebrating with her. She slowly recovered from awe to leap with Riley. Lilja released her fight with the shield, now feeling its resistance suddenly weaken and die. The tripod was defenceless against man-made weaponry. It was startling to behold that without the shield, manpower from missile made the tripod as fragile as glass. Each hit sent a thunderous and earth-quaking explosion, rattling the ground. It definitely alerted the two tripods closest, who were now gunning for the apache.

The commotion of the tripod falling alerted the marines. With vengeful hearts, they peered from the sub entrance to see for themselves. Even Major O'Malley, who could barely collect his voice. "They killed one… they actually…"

He fled back in with his comrades to see the other two tripods coming in fast. Riley got on the radio, "You guys got two more coming for blood! Get out of there!"

Shiva called to Lilja, "Can you do the same for them?!" She felt terrible to ask it of Lilja, who was visibly drained and weak, but given the climate of life or death it was needed.

"I will try." Lilja wiped the blood from her nose, straining from her weary slouch. She raised both her arms. The tripods were marching together, keeping them easily contained in her sights. Walking straight to their fallen comrade where the helicopter was last seen. The resistance was stronger now, especially given the rage of those occupying the two machines. It was clear to Lilja that a tripod actually falling to humanity forces was never in the cards for the beings. It actually happening lit a flame, an unruly one.

Even so, she channeled the strength deeply. Overlaying the shield disruption like a seesaw. Focusing more energy to one, then switching to the other. She couldn't speak, but she could relay their window to Riley telepathically.

His head hurt for just a split second then could feel and hear Lilja. Her intentions were clear that it was time to strike. His headache fleeted just in time for him to grab his radio. Instead of just Webb's apache, there came two. The two they left the compound with. It was finally radioed in to strike, and it came in hot. Firing missiles from a distance till it came in closer – striking the tripod at close impact. Webb's helicopter attacked the other. Just like before, a few missiles detonated on the shield, but it only took a few to incapacitate.

They fell together, crashing into buildings creating a quake of earth. Their technology exploding was just as loud as the victorious battle cry from humanity and its forces. The Scouts and marines cheered together, even civilians howling in celebratory cries. Falling to their knees in disbelief to see these machines pay a price for what they'd done. It was unbridled joy. Not just because a part of their vengeance had been executed, but it meant they finally had a fighting chance.

Their three fallen had definitely given the defence their full attention. Now extermination was no longer the objective. The remaining tripods in the area were viciously gunning for the defence. The apaches.

One coming in from Petworth, and two more from Foggy Bottom. Lilja wrangled on who to tackle first. Riley called over radio, "Three more and D.C is secure, men! Who has sights on the tripod moving through downtown?"

A guard radioed back, "Yes, sir, we've got the battle tank coming up to Logan Circle, we got the tripod in sights moving north fast. We're ready to fire at your orders."

Riley said directly to Lilja, "Take that one."

She didn't say anything, she simply nodded and glared down to the tripod coming up from downtown. With each exercise of her ability, even just tampering with their shields, she could feel the muscle growing stronger. More adept in handling the pain. She had less struggle flickering the shield of the tripod than the last three.

"Take it down! Take it down!"

Riley's voice had only started to blare in the radio when the tank unleashed furious fire to the tripod's core. It stunted its ability to move, and it crumbled to ground taking the collateral of the hood damage from the fall. Its comrade was coming up behind quick, and before it set its sight on the battle tank, Webb's apache flew from the buildings. Beams blasted in an attempt to strike the helicopter down.

Webb barked, "Evade it!"

"On it! On it!" The pilot yelled as he swerved out of the ray's destruction path. The tripod blared its horn, but it sounded different than the last. It was short and sharp. Lilja was silently content to hear its distress call. Only to be used when they were facing deadly obstacles. Which meant they were crumbling to their most powerful weapon. Fear.

The tripod was distressed, completely. Swerving around clumsily to try and seek the apache before it opened fire. Even taking itself behind buildings for cover - knowing full-well their shields were not complying. As Lilja kept tampering with the shield of the tripod in downtown, another came from Petworth, soon to pass their building. Renick yelped as soon as he saw it turn the corner, "Lilja!"

He ran to her, until Shiva grabbed him back. "Wait! Just wait!"

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Stand still!" Shiva demanded, fearing the engine cry coming closer, "You trust me? Stand still and do not move!"

Riley knelt down with Shiva, then. She didn't have to worry about Lilja, as she was focused. Her sights set sternly on the tripod battling with Webb's apache in downtown. She was still. The tripod was on its way to aid the distress call – walking a bit faster than they usually did. It reared its harrowing face into the open, directly in front of their building. Shiva bowed her head, kept her eyes squinted shut. Unknowing to the tripod above, Lilja, Shiva and Riley's position was just below. Thanks to Shiva, it wouldn't have known it.

When the tripod passed, the one in downtown was being pelted by missile warfare. Not just from the apaches, but from the battle tank in Logan Circle. By that time, Lilja was beginning to feel a rush of fatigue. Her eyes were faint, and the sustaining of her ability for a prolonged amount of time was finally meeting its threshold. Even so, she persisted. She strained through and gritted. Burying the pain and fighting to stay alert. Knowing if she didn't, the apaches would fall, their resolve would break, and as would the mission entirely.

Before she could set her sights on the last, it used its beams to strike down the second apache.

"WEBB! TAKE COVER!"

Webb's helicopter swept behind the tripod, then. But its sights were on the tank. They barely had enough time to retreat before the laser rays pierced through the tanks metal like butter – eviscerating the guardsmen inside in an instant.

It kept those rays through buildings mercilessly, following the heavy clap of apache rotors. Webb clung to the co-pilot seat in a panic. He hollered, "Hold it steady! Hold it steady!"

"I'm trying!"

"Stay in cover!"

The rest of the unit tried to fire at the tripod, giving Webb's apache enough time to resolve and commence fire. But it became glaringly aware of its exposure. Taking cover behind buildings and advancing viciously, striking its rays at any grounded defence. To preserve what was left of their unit, many of the heavy humvees, tanks and heavy tactical vehicles sought cover. However, that luxury wasn't for the apache. Worse still, it was the tripods main focus.

Lilja had been wrangling with the shield for the entire firefight, but evading the rays was turning into a spray and pray. The apache swerved and spun, just narrowly dodging the tripods ray. Retreating would only leave the chopper in the open, but continuing to evade the rays was surviving in bargained time. Soon the chopper would get struck, and Webb was preparing for the inevitable.

"Shit! Shit!" The pilot screamed, "We can't hold this for much longer!"

Neither could Lilja, her toiling with the shield was draining her to unconsciousness, and Shiva and Riley could see it. She was nearly to her knees, crying through gritted teeth as she tensed her arms towards the machine. Taking all from herself to keep her powers up. She was only fifteen, plucked from a lab she had known all her life, and even so, she was unwaveringly loyal and committed to the mission. Even forgoing her own life. Riley wouldn't have it. He pulled at the radio on his shoulder, opened it to all channels and demanded as loud as he could.

"To all units, I repeat all units! Someone fire at this fucking thing now! The shield is down! I repeat, the shield is down! Kill it! Kill it!"

The units of Scouts 84 came at the tripod with missiles, anti-tank rifles, and launchers, but the tripod would either tank the damage or evert. Those wielding the weaponry quickly destroyed by rays or gravely injured by debris. The only militant forces in the area to have a clear shot, accessible cover, and weaponry to attack were the marines safeguarding civilians in the subways. O'Malley overheard the call on radio. He could hear the battle turning ill outside, reaping hope from the people they were trying to protect. If the national guard needed help, the marines would answer.

"Javelin is the key, men! Get the gustav ready! Outside! Outside!"

In a matter of seconds, the platoon of marines raced outside with their Gustav gun prepped and ready. They were in the centre of 13th Street, with a clear opening waiting for the tripod to maneuver into it. People hiding away in the subs could not quell their curiosity. Nor their insatiable rage for their attackers. They bordered the entrance of the tunnels to look outside. Watching with bated breath – praying for the impact that will free them from danger. Webb's helicopter continued to circle along the tripod, evading ray beams by just the length of a thread. The tripod would maneuver in circles, eventually coming back around. They waited for the perfect time to execute the shot. When the tripod's head was facing them. The threat of the Gustav missile being wasted on a shield was a dire possibility. Especially considering Lilja's ability could only disrupt, not permanently alter it. There was no way to tell how long the spurts of vulnerability went for. Their odds were measured in chances. In the direst of times, they were willing to take it. When the tripod vaulted into the clearing, Major O'Malley ordered with zeal, "Fire!"

The Gustav made a pop, then hissed loudly. It whooshed into the air in spirals, before flying straight into the tripod's neck. The might of the Gustav was enough to stall its shielding properties. Then hell rained fire on the invader with all the fury and hatred of humanity's strongest. Missiles from Scouts 84 tanks, humvees, rifles and the apache. In a matter of moments, the tripod was in combusting flame. Flailing its three legs just like any living thing. It fell back from 13th Street, collapsing into buildings and joining the rubble. Sending the survivors of D.C. into victorious celebration. The marines raised their weapons, jumping together with all they could muster and all that was left of their platoon. Knowing for certain the comrades they lost today weren't taken in vain. Nor the innumerable counts of innocent life that were simply preyed on like cattle. The war had just begun, and in the hours it had, it had taken so much, including their spirits. With six downed tripods thanks to their own forces, their spirits were rekindled with white hot rage.

The pilot was a breath from tears – screaming like a child behind his controls, "We did it! We did it!"

Webb couldn't help but break from his usual gruff to celebrate, "Scouts 84, baby!" He radioed Shiva and Riley directly, "Damn good work you three! Damn fine work! You just killed six tripods today. We never could have done it without you. You make sure Lilja knows."

It took a while for Riley and Shiva to radio back. When they did, it was Shiva. "General. Riley has Lilja. She's not doing so good. We need transportation and medical help. Fast!"

Webb's grin slowly faded, and he asked dourly, "Is she breathing?

"Yes. Weakly. She over did it. She probably just needs time to recharge, but it'll be a minute before she can fight again."

"Copy that. We're coming in now. Stay on the roof and we'll get ya. Don't go anywhere."

The pilot diverted his flight path up to Petworth. He asked General Webb, "We just did the impossible today, General. But I gotta ask, where do we go from here?"

"Now that we know we stand a chance, we go wherever they are. Wherever they leech life from us, we do the same to them. We do so until we can't. That's our mission."