Jake cackled as another shell hit him in the face, only to fail at even scratching his armor.

A 90mm Shell has hit you. Your armor has reduced any damage to 0. Barbed Thorns passive has inflicted 18 damage to the enemy gunner.

You have killed Marlet Duvak, a Level 2 Mechanics/Level 2 Soldier/Lever 2 Gunner with Barbed Thorns. You have destroyed the eyes and ears of the target. You have earned 200 XP.

It was a lucky damage roll for him. Usually, barbed thorns didn’t inflict significant amounts of damage.

More shells bounced off him, the flak guns mounted along the side of the bridge, trying to stop him. A pair of Wind Slashes later, and the nearest two were blown off the bridge, carrying their crew to a watery grave.

“Can we move forward yet?” He yelled over to Trevor.

The team leader also stood tall, although a bit further back than Jake, occasionally tossing his spear at an opportune Scale.

“Still waiting for Aetherean regular to come on up. There are only ten of us here. I don’t want to move forward and risk missing any pockets of Scales left behind. Not when there might be explosives we missed.”

“Eleven,” Jake corrected, inclining his helmeted head towards a panting Lewis running up the bridge towards them.

“Sorry about how long I took. The ground back there is a mess, craters everywhere. I came as fast as I could.” Lewis went to the ground, a smart move considering his lack of armor.

“You got here just in time to join the fun!” Jake roared, his voice overpowering the sounds of gunfire and artillery firing. Trevor was more restrained in his response.

“Lewis. Glad to see you caught up with us. The rear area is secured, then?”

“We cleared out anyone we could find. If there are Scaverians still there, it’s only underground.”

“Someone else can handle that then. You can remain up here.”

Jake resisted the urge to laugh at the relief on Lewis’ face when Trevor said that. Their leader was treating the rookie with such kid gloves, not sending him underground. So, the kid has been trapped in a collapsed tunnel and almost ran out of air. So what? If he couldn’t handle that he shouldn’t be here.

“Is the bridge secure?”

“Does it look secure, kid?” Jake did laugh now as Lewis’ face reddened.

The entire bridge was a warzone now, Scales still stubbornly clinging on to half this section of the bridge. Ultimately futile, of course, but clearing the bridge would take a while. They couldn't do any large-scale attacks that might damage the bridge, so they used smaller ones. Still, a few minutes and the first section of the bridge would be theirs.

“I only meant if we know they aren’t going to blow it up underneath us. And I’m maybe a year younger than you!” Lewis protested.

“Eh. Only Aetherian years count. You’ve been here two, I’ve been here eight,” Jake countered. Lewis’ face somehow got even angrier. Poking his buttons was too easy.

“It’s secure,” Trevor assured Lewis. “We have Elaine and Gregor at their siege mortar’s ammo tractor. We’ve found the wires leading to the regular explosives and cut them. It’s also why I wanted you up here. There’s a chance they might try shelling the bridge to destroy it. Can I count on you to stop that?”

Lewis nodded after a second to think. “Running a little low on mana, but I think I could hold off a few bombardments.”

“Okay. Fall back a hundred feet. Hunker down, try not to make yourself too big of a threat. Jake, we can move the line up now.”

“No waiting for the regulars anymore, then?” Jake prepared his blade, runes thrumming as he turned them on.

“If they’re taking longer than Lewis, no. I was trying to strike a balance so we’d have time to secure this section entirely, and they wouldn’t have time to rig the next. But the Aethereans are taking too long. You, me, we run up the center line and crush what resistance we find.”

Finally. Something besides being a mobile bullet sponge.

The next barricade was little more than a thrown-together set of wrecks hurriedly dragged by the Scales to block off the train tracks. They’d carried back a few AT guns as well.

They didn’t threaten him or Trevor but could chip away at the HP of more lightly armored Travelers. Jakes lunged forward, blade cutting the barrel of one in half, and continued through the crew behind. Trevor leaped onto the second, stabbing each Scale individually.

“On Lewis. Stop needling him. I don’t want to write back about one of you two being permanently injured because you provoked him too much.” Jake couldn’t see Trevor’s face underneath the helmet, but he sounded pissed.

“Boy got a little taste of reality, decided he didn’t like it. Did he get told the fight would be all rainbows and sunshine?”

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“No one has a good reaction to being reminded about their mortality,” Trevor stated as his spear claimed another Scale from on top of the barricade, the lizard’s screaming cut off as the point of the spear went through the metal mask and skull to the brains underneath.

“Because the damn Dungeons don’t prepare them for it. Honestly, they never prepared them for actual conflict.” Jake rammed his sword through the impromptu barricade, blade smashing through mortal and crushing whatever Scale was on the other side.

You’ve killed Calzag Dormak, a Level 3 Farmer/Level 2 Soldier/Level 1 Machine Gunner. You have destroyed the target’s Liver, Pancreas, Left Kidney, Right Kidney,..

Sometimes Jake swore the entire system dedicated itself to making you hate notifications. You could mute most of them, but not these.

“The Dungeons are an impromptu solution that works well enough. We need more Travelers on the front lines, not stuck in training towards the rear.” Trevor stabbed through the barricade again, then paused. “I don’t have any hit or kill notifications. They probably fell back. Make a hole.”

“You still have your hit notifications on?” Jake commented as he raised the dragonbone sword over his head.

“Information is information.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to see constant notifications of my food, water, and oxygen levels.” Jake brought the sword down, metal screaming as he sheared through the armor of the destroyed assault gun.

“Listen. I’ll lay off him some. And I’d never try to hurt him permanently. I don’t think I even could if I wanted to. But do you think someone with that temperament is good to have in a war zone? If you’re afraid I’ll provoke him into a fight, you should be afraid he’ll be provoked into worse decisions on the battle field.” Jake punched the wreck of another armored car, metal shearing off the chassis from the blow.

“Firstly,” Trevor’s spear flew once again, impaling a fleeing scale in the back of the head. “Any reasoning that begins with Lewis’ attitude runs into the issue that I let you onto the battlefield as well.”

“Fair enough.” Jake didn’t hold any illusions about his own behavior. He did disagree on how much of a liability they made him as opposed to Lewis, but he’d give Trevor something just to keep the conversation going.

“Secondly, he can be nigh-immortal if he gets leveled right. That potential could help break us another front when this one is done, and you will not interfere with that. Understood?”

Jake paused, both from running out of targets and mulling over the words. No living Scales lay between them and the second section of the bridge. “You’re making a wager that he gets high enough level that his temperament doesn’t matter before that temperament gets him in trouble. I disagree, but I’ll back your play for now.”

***

Underneath the bridge, nested in the mess of bridge supports and catwalks used for repair and maintenance, Markos remained still. Mouth dry, he forced himself not to move, not to make a sound. The bridge occasionally quaked. He couldn’t hear any sounds from the fighting, ears still numb from the exploding mines.

He’d touched them a few times since then, on his way across the bridge. Every time his fingers came back slick with blood.

The retreat had been orderly despite the fact no one could hear anything. Then the sunbeam blasted against the shield, followed swiftly by Travelers rushing across.

The Travellers started killing everyone as soon as they reached the bridge. It had been a mad scramble to reach the far side until Travelers had started leaping or flying further ahead.

Some of them had tried to slip here underneath the bridge to escape. Most didn’t make it.

Behind him, Ferat crouched, the machine gunner’s eyes glued on the other side of the bridge. One of his arms was a mangled mess, stars of metal still embedded in his skin. They’d not bothered taking any out, the chance of the other Scaverian bleeding out too high. Instead, they both waited down here, hoping the frontline would pass so they could try and sneak back onto the bridge.

The quaking of the bridge moved past, further towards the far bank. Ready to leave? He signaled to Ferat. The other Scaverian eyed the bridge, then nodded. Forcing his arms not to tremble, Markos moved forward. The catwalks led to a metal ladder heading up, and he went up it slowly, doing his best not to make any noise as he crawled up.

He’d be greeted either by nothing or a Traveler putting a weapon between his eyes. At least it would be a swift end. Markos peeked over the edge of the bridge.

The ammo-tractor for the Musvil lay just ahead. The destroyed wreck of the Musveil stood just behind it. Some Traveler had ripped the siege mortar from its armored transport, the massive barrel half-hanging off the other side of the bridge.

A large Traveler with a pike in full plate to his left, eyes glued to Markos’ comrades fighting further down the bridge. On top of the ammo tractor, a second Traveler with a bow taller than her sent arrows down the bridge. She fired arrows as long as Markos’ arm were punching holes in steel inches thick as they cut through the barricade.

Markos crawled over the ladder, moving slowly and keeping on his stomach. Stay out of sight, and make as little movement as possible. Ferat followed behind

Corpses littered the area around the Musveil’s ammo tractor, all of them Scaverian. Mouth dry, Markos crawled forward. Unit insignias, engineers, artillery operators, infantry, and command staff. His arm bumped against something heavy. A dead engineer held an overstuffed field pack in her claw. He grabbed it, dragging it closer, the pack heavy and full near bursting.

Run, Ferat signaled, and Markos resisted the urge to hiss. Run where? Down the bridge, past two Travelers watching that way? Back to where they’d come from, back on dry land surely crawling with Aetherians and Travelers by now? Stay here, where they’d eventually be discovered and cut down?

There wasn’t the time to debate this. Markos grabbed the pack, opening it up to reveal blocks of explosives and several AT grenades inside.

Run Markos signaled, then reached for the grenades. Ferat shook his head but did head towards the edge of the bridge. He grabbed one, nervously searching for the pin, fingers fumbling. The Traveler still focused on the next section of the bridge, another arrow notched on her bow. He pulled the pin.

4

She fired another arrow, and he threw the grenade onto the ammo tractor.

Her head immediately snapped to the inside of the ammo tractor, but he was already sprinting for the edge of the bridge.

3

He dove off, heart pounding in his chest as he stepped off the edge of the bridge.

2

Feet-first, he fell, doing his best to minimize the profile when he hit the water. The wind whipped against him, his clothes rippling.

1

He plummeted towards the dark surface of the water, still dozens of feet away. Maybe halfway now.

0