The next morning Lily avoided the office and went straight to the Arena. She needed an escape from her current reality. Early tomorrow morning she would need to issue her weekly report to Commander Arlington, and in her current state of mind she was worried how he might react.

Lily continued to follow the story as she played. She took note that although she could see her stats increasing in her HUD with each kill, unlike the original game of Conquest she wasn’t receiving nearly as many notifications - which only added to the fully immersive feeling. And although Lily had gotten separated from the rest of her team during the intense battle, it appeared that hey had finally defeated the enemy.

Lily ran. Her lungs burned. Her legs screamed. But she ran. Despite the gaping wound in her leg, she needed to run. It’s incredible what can happen when it feels as though your life is in danger. As lightning and fire and ice all mixed together, she felt the contradicting temperatures dance across her body. Her back had frostbite. Her arms were burned. Her leg hot, her head cold. She tripped and tumbled into a shell hole.

It had pooled there. That substance, that horrid, tar-like substance. Lily tried to wriggle out, but every single action just dragged her deeper and deeper.

She coughed and sputtered. It pressed down on her chest. It sucked at her skin, almost like it was trying to gnaw it away from the bone.

It’s alive!

Lily struggled more, flailed and thrashed. She pulled her arm up out of the horrible ooze. The skin had become red and raw. The armor gone. Eaten through. Sticky strands of the stuff clung to her, balling up and trying to cement their place on her body.

"Help!" Lily screamed.

Relief came in the form of a cryoshell. It hit the ground just a few feet away from the foxhole. Cold, unlike any cold she had ever felt before, washed over her. It felt like fire as hoarfrost formed on her skin. But the ooze, like the mindless animal that it is, retracted and tried to get away before it froze in place. She broke the shards of…slime... off.

She looked around for a moment, trying to triangulate her position. Lily started walking in the direction of the artillery fire. Surely, the closer she got, the safer she would be.

Maybe that’s the last volley.

There was no way to be sure. Lily kept moving as quickly as her wounded leg would allow. She half-ran, half desperately wobbled along while spewing curses and profanity.

If only I hadn't given away my only healing potion to Officer T'alik!

There was still no sign of her squadron, and no sign of her fellow shock troops.

The growl of an engine came from her right. She turned, pointing her halberd towards it. A white and gold tank rolled towards her, the barrel pointed right in her direction. It slowed down to a halt. The hatch opened, and a man popped out.

“Hey! What’s your name?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Lily...”

“Well, Lily, I’m Tokol… why don’t you come with us? All infantrymen were called to fall back over an hour ago!”

She climbed and sat on the tank, facing their flank. There wasn’t enough room to get inside; it was already at full capacity. The man just told her to pray to Father and hold on. He stayed standing, watching, waiting for something. A few tanks rolled up behind them. She turned my head and shouted.

“What's going on?”

Tokol chuckled. “We’re the cleanup crew, killin’ off the stragglers!”

A thought flashed in Lily's mind, “I…saw one of them reform in front of me. You ever seen that happen before?”

“No, never even heard of it. You sure you aren’t seeing things out there? I’ve heard the shockies can get pretty screwed up in the field.”

Ignoring the subtle insult, Lily turned back to watch the tanks join them. One by one, each of them were immaculate with white and beautiful gold, they rolled alongside them. She looked down at the ground, chewed up by shell and spell. It may have just been the motion of the tank, but she saw something moving in the splattered remains of the beasts.

Lily looked at her leg. Blood still seeped from it. It didn’t hurt as much, though that could have just been the adrenaline coursing through her veins after trying to escape bombardment. She sighed and tried to relax.

A glance to the right destroyed any chance of relaxing she had. One of the tanks had slowed down. Something pulled at it, forcing it to stop. Thick tar creeped up the treads, slopped over the ivory white armor. The screaming started when it travelled into the barrel. The tank ground to a halt. Tendrils of pitch flew into the air, grabbing the tank, and rocking it back and forth.

Lily started banging on the side of the vehicle she was in. Tokol ducked back inside, shouting indistinctly at his comrades. They turned the tank, aiming at their fellows. A short prayer, she only heard the last part.

“Father, forgive us.”

A holy blast of light, hotter than the forges from which the tank had been made, flew toward the tank under assault. It was reduced to slag in an instant, and the screaming stopped. An acrid smell of burnt flesh took its place.

Tokol grabbed Lily by the collar.

“Get in, now! It’s not safe outside!” He half-dragged her into the tank. Dark, hot, and cramped. Between everyone else she had maybe a foot of room to move in. She just tucked herself into a corner, hoping she wasn’t in the way.

Lily realized she had left her halberd somewhere very far away by now. She groaned, her head falling to her knees.

At least I still have my sidearm as a last resort.

Now it looked like it would be her only defense if they were attacked. At this point, it felt less “if” and more “when.”

Then they started to slow.

Tokol peered out into the distance, trying to discern what had happened. The tanks had moved up, but something shifted in the distance. His binoculars couldn’t ascertain it. It looked like a wall. A massive orb of shifting blackness.

"But… that’s impossible!" he stammered aloud.

They had shelled that area to pure ash. There was no way anything could have survived. Particularly something that massive.

“Load the artillery!” Tokol shouted. “Load!”

The men looked at him, gesturing towards the wastes.

“Sir, with all due respect…the tanks—”

“Father curse the tanks! If they have any brains, they’re gonna get out of there, now!”

Then the beasts sprouted. They opened and closed. They pulsed and breathed. Massive tendrils extended from their bases. Like roots, they branched out, sweeping and flailing in the air as they got longer and longer.

Lily felt something, a gnawing thought at the back of her mind. Half-whispered things, telling her nothing and everything. She crouched down, gripping her head. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. The whispering just kept coming. They became more distinct and solid. Like actual words. Blasphemies, terrible heresies, and encouraging things she tried to block out.

“Sir? Sir!”

Lily shook out the fog and looked up. The whispering didn’t cease, but it did quiet enough for her to focus. It appeared that Tokol was experiencing the same thing she was.

One of the soldiers grabbed Tokol and shook him. He gasped, shaking his head.

“Sir, what do we do?”

Tokol sighed, shaking his head. “Fire!”

----------------------------------------

© Copyright 2022 R.M. Mulder. All rights reserved.