“It is as if she does not require our assistance.” Samantha comments with a hint of disappointment.

“She will.” Samuel assures as he points outward to the scatter motor pool of the camp. “Shift target: pair of armed technical vehicles. Distance: five hundred thirty meters, no wind change.”

Mounted on tripods secured upon the cargo beds of hastily armored trucks, the pair of light machine guns are quickly loaded by inexperienced hands. Holed handguards surrounding uncleaned barrels and forms of decaying plastic; salvaged heavy arms pacified back into killing intent.

Thin and short belts of ammunition are pulled into chambers, the monster stopping her rampage as she hears the metallic snap of primed bolts.

An immense rate of fire bridges the sounds of individual bullets together into a singular roar. Unearned wealth expressed through the very essence of survival, power on the frontier nothing more than prayers for salvation against death itself.

Augmentation burns, the scream of machinery implanted into the human form tearing at the centered mind. Absolute, singular focus upon a duty enacted; a reaction time compressing into an impossibly fast perception from the observa school.

Caloric energy is consumed within metal, entire families' worth of nutrition sacrificed upon the bonfire of conflict. Artificial eyes wide as they spot the twirling frames of bullets, lead jacketed forms carving through the evening sky.

Movement in utter instinct, the dodging of ordnance a beautiful dance derived from eons of study and martial tradition. Aanar, the arcane school of offensive warfare, twisted upon itself in the desperation of defensive maneuvers.

Silicon processors count the bullets as they roar past her, an estimation of remaining rounds within the emplacements calculated to a dangerous precedent. A real time of two seconds is turned into minutes of perception; with speed and grace the movement of the augmented body barely squeezes past saw blades of rifle caliber rounds.

A word is spoken from a perfect mind, confirmation of application.

A soul listens, a bonded pair inseparable against a dying world.

A god arrives.

Even in the compressed time of augmented perception the round from the divine weapon approaches at soul shattering velocity. Where the frames of bullets lazily carve through the air like distant birds, the twenty five millimeter armor piercing round severs the sky itself like a falling god: unescapable, unperceivable.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Mortal minds unable to comprehend its design, the power of divinity applied as the sound of its heralded arrival is enough to rupture eardrums.

A flash of brilliant light on contact, one of the armored technicals dissolving into base matter as the impact site sends a fury of dust into the battle space. The explosion crashes across the mining pit, a noise sounded across the entire Baitan Plateau from the smiting of gods.

In the dust choked anarchy a pair of glowing eyes turn from conflict, at the far ridge of the mining pit the subtle reflection of a scope flashes in augmented eyes. Without looking the Auditor sends a blade of gravimetric energy at the remaining vehicle, a subtle nod of acknowledgement detected as the targeted hostile is bisected by arcane power.

A weapon to slaughter the gods themselves.

“Shift target: female arcane assault weapon wielder, height: one point six five meters. Distance: five hundred sixty seven meters, no wind change.”

The second in command of the Geysers sprints towards her leader with trained agility, upon her form bandoliers of munitions and tools alongside a holstered assault rifle. With a swift motion she unhooks one of her munitions pouches, sliding into cover as she hands the Geysers’ Commander a full armament of bullets.

A short acknowledgement is received as the estranged federated cities officer grimly smiles, her voice echoing with authority as she attempts to organize a scattering battle. “We got a hostile sniper up in the rim people, keep your eyes up!”

Ammo delivered, the armed woman peaks out of cover. An assault rifle crafted from a belt fed machine gun platform, but yet its singular pistol grip subtly distorts a figment of reality. Poorly integrated into the rest of the weapons system, the arcane device spreads from it an aura of conflicting distortion and near disastrous craftsmanship.

Moving extraordinarily fast the bandit lieutenant fires a well controlled burst at the targeted creature. Rifle rounds spark as they glance off plates of implanted armor, the Auditor reacting as she projects a defensive skin of gravimetric energy.

Bullets caught mid flight, the bandit dumps the remaining twenty round magazine into the barrier in a stream of fully automatic fire. A projected field of time altering gravitons surrounding the Lieutenant expands as she begins to reload with incredible speed, the arcane weapon supplementing its human wielder's trained motions.

Nearly slipping on a ground of brass bullet casings, the assault rifle is aligned back towards the augmented beast; iron sights clearing for a second barrage of fire against a now dissolving defensive wall. More sparks as shielding begins to falter, the monster suddenly cornered by lethal rounds as…

The divine bullet leaves nothing of the arcane weapon wielder. The soft body of flesh is eradicated by plasma and kinetic energy, extremities sent flying in a plume of gore that splatters the soul across the remaining combatants.

Eyes wide in utter shock, the leader of the Geyser Gang catches the flickering of a sniper scope at the edge of her vision. Crosshairs aligned, a single instinct battles for a consequential life.

A hand reaches for the boxy device at her belt, a single button upon the thing pressed with lighting speed. With a blast of arcane force gravimetric projections forge crude defensive barriers, reality twisting in a half-dome of distorted sight.