Armin watched him through his spotter scope. The man left chaos in his wake. Nothing but death survived his passing. He was as much a force of nature as a volcanic eruption and he was a god amongst men—the men of Red Company, who fell before him. Armin watched in awe mixed with disgust at the horror he faced.

"Target, Section One Alpha, five mil," Armin said.

"Contact," his partner replied.

Armin and Josef laid in the mud beneath thick brush, waiting for their one chance to avenge their slaughtered comrades. Three long years of war led to this moment, though it felt much longer. How many friends died to the man before them? How many enemy soldiers were killed by their nation's Corsairs?

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Neon blue vines of light whipped around the Corsair, destroying the few operational armored vehicles that remained in Red Company. Flashes of purple light enveloped him as bullets clashed against his barrier. The ground around him liquefied into molten rock, vaporizing the water in the soil—the mist giving form to his barrier, refracting the light of his magic and the soft amber glow of the fires surrounding him. The sight sent shivers down Armin's spine. Of the Corsairs they faced, the man before them was the deadliest.

"They truly are gods among men," Armin said. The Corsair paused and Josef exhaled. A cylinder of solid red light etched with glyphs enveloped the barrel of Josef's rifle. The light grew to a flash and shattered as the weapon fired. The bullet found its target. "But those gods are still men."