While the farmer had demonstrated some impressive skills in the past, and was clearly capable of much when placed under just the right circumstances, he was not a warrior at heart. As for Mollenoch, even if his best months were long behind him, he was still a living legend. Jebediah found himself quickly forced back by the rain of blows which clacked against the side of his scythe, unable to offer a proper counter-strike even if he had wished to.

"I can't let myself be defeated!" the old mouse growled, his age showing in the weakened voice, no longer augmented by the technology. "My people need me! The world needs me!"

"Look, I know you're strong and did some really impressive things, but the world will be fine." the farmer replied, panting as he barely managed to defend himself.

"No, it won't be fine! I've seen it! I know whats coming!" the shadow king cried out, swinging the cracked, wooden blade again and again, "They showed me!"

"Who? Who showed you?"

"They... they didn't have a name... or a face..." Mollenoch shook his head, that moment of hesitation offering an excellent opportunity to strike which, of course, the farmer refused to take. "It doesn't matter! Unless I can defeat you... defeat all of you... everything I've done, all of that the mice that I've killed... it will have all been for nothing!"

"Is that your plan?" Jebediah asked, his voice completely calm, neutral and infuriatingly devoid of any sort of judgement, "To keep doing things that you know are wrong, based on the hope that one day, they'll somehow become right?"

"You don't understand." the old mouse growled, his frail body suddenly re-energized, knocking the wooden scythe from the farmer's hand with a single, powerful downward sweep. "You can't understand! I won't let it all be for nothing! I can't!" he called out, swinging the sword in a wide sweep, directly into the neck of the now disarmed farmer.

"Ouch." Jebediah said, still standing in place in front of the exhausted old hero, the wooden sword pressed to the side of his neck. The spot that it had hit would certainly ache for a few hours, but it wasn't cut. Once a mighty weapon, it, like its wielder, had slowly withered and cracked. The only difference was that, unlike its master, it didn't have any manner of rejuvenating technologies to keep it healthy and strong. Of course neither did Mollenoch, anymore. The shadow king had kept it by his side all this time, unable to bear to toss it away, but not putting it to any use, either. Over time, it had grown dull and weak. Little more than a clumsy club by this point.

Mollenoch continued to breathe heavily, shaking, his tensed arms still outstretched, holding the blade to the calm farmers neck, as though somehow hoping that the weapon might remember its old purpose, and cast the head of its master's enemy from their shoulders. He sighed and closed his eyes. "It really was all for nothing, wasn't it?" he asked.

The farmer gave this question a good deal of thought before finally shrugging. "I can't really say. Maybe everything happens for a reason."

The old mouse lowered his sword, "No. This, all of this, was completely pointless." he said, looking to the strange islands within the sky, blocking out the sun. "I had thought that we would have generations, maybe hundreds of generations to slowly grow and expand, and that we would very much need them. Instead... instead, we're already out of time. It's too late. Even if we had won this battle, and gained all of the materials and resources in the world, we couldn't have become strong enough. Not even close."

Jebediah sighed, "While I'm glad to see that you've given up on killing us, it would have been a lot better if you had figured that out a couple of hours ago."

"It wouldn't have mattered. Whether now, or a little bit later, we're all dead anyways."

"It matters to me." the farmer said, "And I suspect that it does to you, as well. We can't change what happened, though, I suppose. No sense holding a grudge over it."

Mollenoch blinked, "So, what? That's it? You're not going to kill me?"

Jebediah shrugged. "I've never really been the killing type. Imagine I'll be haunted by enough ghosts as it is. Fail to see how adding one more to the list will do me any favors. If that's what you really want, though, you can always stay here, and I'm sure someone will come along to finish the job. I can't help but figure that if this much spilled blood didn't save the world, though, a little more won't help either."

Mollenoch lowered his head, and slowly returned the dulled wooden sword to his belt. He turned and walked away a few steps, quickly looking back over his shoulder, as though expecting the scythe to come for the back of his exposed neck. But of course that doesn't happen. The farmer was simply standing there, looking about, as though he were on a scenic hike, rather than in the middle a smouldering, crater pocked battlefield. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think that he had a single care in the world. The leader of the augmented mice could only sigh and walk away. He felt no need to turn back again.

"Glad to see you're still in one piece!" Meryll called to the farmer as she limped towards him. She wasn't in any pain, of course, as she could no longer feel pain, but the gaping wound in her side was currently stitched together by a pair of the long imitation needles, and while it held the cut slabs of flesh together, it was still a clumsy and awkward solution at best. "Not that I'm surprised." she smiled upon reaching him.

Jebediah smiled back, turning to her as she approached, but his smile quickly faded at the sight of her, turning into a deep, disappointed frown as he looked the woman up and down, his expression uncharacteristically judgmental.

"Um... yeah..." Meryll said, in an similarly uncharacteristically shy and nervous voice. "Here I am... all of me. I guess this isn't quite what you expected."

"No." The farmer shook his head, still frowning. "No, it most certainly is not." he paused for a moment before sighing, "I'm sorry. I do make every effort to be as open minded as possible. Makers know that I'm far from perfect myself, but I have my limits, and this? This is unacceptable, I'm afraid."

"I... see." Meryll lowered her head, not the least bit surprised by his reaction to the sight of her small ears and thick, bald tail.

"Maybe I'm just old fashioned... almost certainly, in fact, but I don't care what younger or 'hipper' mice might say, a decent young woman, which I know you to be, should not be traipsing about in such scandalous attire!" Jebediah frowned deeper still.

"Wait, what?" Meryll head-tilted looking down at herself, "What's wrong with my outfit? There's nothing 'scandalous' about it! It's comfortable, light and protects all of the important bits! ...okay, maybe not all of them, but some!" she said, examining the still entirely intact golden armor.

Jebediah simply continued to frown in disapproval, finally wearing the warrior down. "Okay, okay!" she sighed, looking about before calling out. "Hey, you!"

A few lengths from the pair, one of the augmented soldiers was trying to quietly slink away. While the battle was, indeed, over, there was still a lot of confusion. The kingdom mice were naturally quite hesitant to attack the augmented ones. It was one thing to cut down an enemy in battle, but it felt rather inappropriate to put an unarmed mouse to the sword. There was no real place, or practice even, within the kingdom for dealing with prisoners, with the enemy soldiers who had intended to occupy the city no longer even really having anywhere to flee to. Some had left the battlefield, but most were simply standing around, confused, uncertain what was supposed to happen next. This applied equally to the mice on both sides of the conflict. As for this one particular soldier? They jumped when called to, nervously turning to the oversized woman, shaking all over.

"Y-es?" he asked.

"Can I borrow your cloak for a bit?' Meryll asked him, quite politely, all things considered.

"Oh, of course!" the soldier immediately shucked it off and tossed it over to her, revealing their slightly damaged exo-frame beneath it, quickly scurrying out of sight. They had known that Meryll had defeated their general and most powerful soldier in single combat, and had absolutely no desire to earn the large woman's ire.

The cloak was, naturally, too small and too short, but essentially did the job as she tied it around her shoulders. It didn't quite close at the front, and barely reached her hips, but the presence of more clothing in itself was enough to satisfy the rather prudish farmer. I strongly doubt that he would have even noticed had the warrior woman been completely naked, but somehow that small amount of clothing came off as exponentially more obscene than nothing at all. I couldn't really disagree with that assessment, either, even if I couldn't, for the life of me, rationally justify it.

"There? Is that better?" Meryll folded her arms across her chest, mildly disappointed at having to cover up Jerin's masterwork. Well, in her mind, anyways. Obviously it was no masterwork at all, simply made of a few scraps that the former hero had thrown together. It was well made, all things considered, but the young blacksmith wasn't given much time to craft a complete suit of armor, as Meryll was in a hurry to catch up to her allies at the time. Even aside from it being hand-crafted by her idol, she thought that her sexy rat armor (note that that is her name for it, and absolutely not the one that I would have gone with) looked amazing, and lamented the fact that nobody else that she spoke with seemed to agree with her. As for the farmer, he simply smiled a little and nodded in response.

As for the large woman, she still couldn't help but smile back and chuckle. "Heh... you know, I was a little scared for a moment there." she said, "I thought that you were upset by the fact that I was actually a rat."

The farmer blinked and tilted his head to one side, wearing a curious, but neither fearful nor judgmental expression. "You're a rat?"

<3~

At the other end of the battlefield, a lone figure in a tattered blue uniform stood, looking to the distant horizon.

"I'm... sorry about your friend." I said to him. Hardly the most eloquent of statements, but it was all that I could think of to say.

Reginald blinked and turned to me, suddenly noticing my presence. "Are you talking about my subordinates?" he said, "Definitely a shame, indeed, but we all knew coming into this battle that there would be casualties. The batters losses were not too severe, all things considered. They were loyal troops, and honorable citizens, both, but I'm not sure that I would call them my friends."

Now it was my turn to be a little confused. "No, no, I was talking about... Archibald." I said, slightly hesitantly, taking a moment to make 100% sure that I'd put the right name to the right mouse.

"What, him?" the injured batter asked, still nursing his broken arm. I could only imagine how much it must have hurt. It was a testament to the strength of his people that he could even still stand. He smiled a little and chuckled, "I would have thought that you, after all this time, would understand. Don't get me wrong, Archibald was a respectable man in his own right, and most certainly a worthy rival, but he was no friend of mine. Quite the contrary. Why would I mourn his death? With him out of the way, I can return to my homeland the undisputed leader, and finally unite our tribes. In the end, Archibald was simply an obstacle on the path to peace. Nothing more."

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"I... see..." I said, not entirely convinced, but figured that it wasn't my place to judge, and certainly not my place to change his mind. "Well then, I guess I'm happy for you. You've got everything that you ever wanted."

"Yes." the player nodded, looking back out over the horizon. "I suppose I did."

I couldn't help but detect a little bit of sorrow and regret in those final words, but I'm not sure if they were real or simply my imagination. In the end, I suppose that it hardly mattered. Perhaps he was, indeed, grieving for his comrade in arms in his own way, and if not, well, I was hardly in a position to judge. A lot of mice, not only mice but birds as well, had died today, and none of them really deserved it. It would be quite irrational to believe that that any one should be more important than all of the others, to anyone.

<3~

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Annabelle called, looking about, perhaps more accurately listening about, turning her head back and forth in a gesture which I suspect doesn't accomplish very much.

"Huh? What are you doing here?" Samuel asked, still lying back against the rim of the now empty crater, completely exhausted.

The bard followed the voice and stopped just in front of him, smiling down. "I don't really know where 'here' is. I just kind of end up in places." she shrugged. "You're not sounding too good. Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine." the one-eyed mouse answered, not quite lying. His fur was singed in a lot of places, the skin even burnt underneath, and he was certainly banged up pretty badly, but he didn't think that any of his injuries were too severe. It was mostly just fatigue, combined with no small amount of pain which had kept him from getting up. "I guess... I could use a little help standing up."

Annabelle smiled and leaned forward, offering a paw, which the mouse formerly and maybe still currently known as Samson was quick to take hold of, rising up into a sitting position, and getting halfway to his feet, before the rather frail and not uninjured herself bard let out a surprised squeak and fell forward, landing on top of him, unable to support his weight.

"Ugh. I don't know why I thought that would work." the mage groaned, the fall, even if just a small one back to his lying position making his many aches flare up again, with the relatively small weight of the bard certainly not helping matters.

"Yeah. Me neither." The bard panted, in truth rather glad for the opportunity to lie down herself. Her fur flushed a little as she realized her position and rolled off of the one-eyed mouse, resting at his side. She smiled, turning to him, "Still, the fact that something probably won't work isn't reason to not try, right?"

"I... guess." Samuel said, clearly not quite convinced. He also found himself a little embarrassed. Not at the briefly overly close contact with the bard... well, maybe a bit at that, too, but rather the fact that he had failed to notice her disheveled state. "Are you okay? You're looking to be in pretty rough shape yourself." he said, "What happened to that instrument of yours?"

"Heh. I've been better." the blind mouse nodded, "But I've also been a lot worse. It broke in the battle."

"I'm... sorry."

The bard shrugged, "Oh, don't worry about it. I can just make myself a new one."

Samuel was more than a little bit skeptical of how a blind girl who was so uncoordinated that she could barely walk five steps without falling out could possibly manage to carve a delicate, precision instrument. I must admit that I was as well, but in the end, all that he could do was nod along. The pair laid side by side, waiting for their many aches and pains to subside, but clearly those pains weren't going anywhere anytime soon. He closed his eye and audibly sighed.

"Is something wrong?" Annabelle asked.

"I didn't expect to survive this battle." he said, looking to the sky. "It feels like nothing ever seems to go the way that I plan."

The blind bard gave a sympathetic nod before giving the matter a bit of thought. "Is that really such a bad thing?" she finally asked.

After giving that response a few moments of thought, Samuel could only shake his head and chuckle. "No. No, I suppose it's not."

The rocky earth beneath them didn't exactly make for the most comfortable place to rest, and in their respective conditions, they'd likely have had trouble finding comfort in even the softest of beds, but still, they were content just lying there for a while, side by side, paws linked. The pair had nowhere better to be, after all.

<3~

Sellas had given her followers a good amount of time to collect themselves as best they could, before finally rising to her feet. "It's time to go." she finally said, dusting off her robe.

The nearby cultists were glad, but one by one they took in her expression, and one by one, the truth dawned on them. "You don't mean back to the city, do you?" The newly scarred mouse girl asked. She had, somehow, collected a new 'x' of deep running cuts along her snout, each one a fingers length away from cutting through her eyes. These concerned her little, however. Never the most prideful of mice, she had accepted her lot in life, and her apparent destiny to find herself repeatedly scarred. All that she could do was make the best of it. "Back to our people?"

The high priestess shook her head. "No. They aren't my people. Not anymore." she said, adding "Perhaps they never were."

"So... we're never going to see them again?" The cultist asked, morosely. While naturally devoted to the cause, forming friendships outside of the limited number of members was in no way discouraged, and naturally everyone had at least a few, if not family members which they had failed to convert to the cause but still remained close to.

"Who can say?" Sellas smiled, "Maybe I will again, someday. I hope that I will not need to, in truth." she paused, looking up at the watching faces of her followers, many bloodied, all filthy from the chaos of the battle, "As for all of you, as I had said before, I am not a leader. Just another follower, and we all have our own paths to walk. Each and every one of you are free to return to the city, and live out your lives as you see fit."

The scarred cultist looked heartbroken, closing her eyes. The others were similarly dismayed, unable to contradict the wisdom of the head of their order, but at the same time, far from eager to say goodbye.

"However," Sellas said, touching under the girls chin, turning her head back towards her own, "If you, all of you, still wish to walk that same road that I do, I would be more than happy for the company."

Smiles and soft, excited chatter passed from member to member, as their spirits are once more lifted. While it was very much true that each and every one of them would miss their old home, both the people and the things within it, it was hard to feel too sad. There was an new and exciting road ahead, after all, and each and every one of them, Sellas included, were eager to see where it would lead them.

They didn't even return to the city to gather supplies. As a group, they all simply left the battlefield, leaving behind all of their personal effects, aside from those which they currently carried. So far as I can tell, not one of them were ever seen again.

<3~

Atop a distant hill, a single elderly mouse stood. He was still bleeding from no shortage of small wounds, but considering the fall that he had taken and the fight which followed, it was a miracle that he was still alive at all. He wasn't alone, either. A mouse woman stood before him, her fur filthy but uninjured from the shoulders down. Above them was simply a stub of now blackened spine and a a few frayed and still smoking exposed wires, but nothing else.

There was another woman with her, but of course she wasn't standing. Standing requires legs, which were still back at the battlefield. The half mechanical mouse, perhaps a quarter would now be more accurate, seeing as how she was missing both her lower body and an arm was held upright by her self-described sibling and comrade, and while she showed no signs of pain from her injuries, she looked more than a little bit embarrassed about her current condition. This was partially due to the disapproving look that her leader and mentor had cast her way.

"You disabled your safety protocols." Mollenoch said to her, apparently able to tell this from a mere glance.

"Um... maybe?" she replied, sheepishly.

"We've discussed this." the shadow king sighed, "Those systems are extremely important, and are put in place for a reason."

I know! I just... I just wanted to win. I needed to win." Gwendolynne said, mildly annoyed by the lecture, but she couldn't help but smile just a little in self awareness of how immature her own words were. This was far from the first that she had received from him, even if they were far less common these days, now that the need to push her body beyond its safe limits had become increasingly rare. The worst part about them was the fact that he was pretty much always right for lecturing her, and she knew it. She looked up to the tall mouse, especially tall from her perspective seeing as how she was being held at Vania's chest level and smiled a little, "We'll get them next time. We can re-gather the scattered troops, rebuild our weapons and come back for them, even stronger than before! We won't underestimate them again!" the severely damaged general said, "This isn't over yet."

Bzzzt. One of the Vania's wires sparked in affirmation, the closest thing that she could manage to her usual beep.

"Yes. It is." Mollenoch said to her, sounding, strangely, not the least bit disappointed by that revelation. "Fighting them further would accomplish nothing. It is clear that this world has rejected my principles. I can't say that I'm too surprised, either. I suppose, in the end, I was never worthy of changing the world."

Gwendolynne frowned, unsure of what to say before finally responding. "So... what happens now?"

Bzzt.

"You two have fought well, but I still have a job for you. A very important one." The old mouse said, turning to his left, looking down at the still smoking battlefield along with the old, ruined Maker's vehicle beyond it, which housed the mouse kingdom. "I want you to help them. Teach them. Make them stronger."

"Why should we help them?" The half-mechanical mouse growled. "After what they did to us?"

Bzzt.

"No, no, we came to them offering them a better world, and they rejected us! Why should I care what happens to them?" the general asked her sibling.

"Because they are our last hope." Mollenoch instead replied, turning his gaze to the patchwork partial hexagrid in the sky.

"Do you really think there is any hope for them?" Gwendolynne asked, skeptically.

"Maybe not much." The shadow king admitted, shrugging, "But there is always some."

The general gave a reluctant nod before looking back up to her leader. "You'll be coming with us, right?"

The old mouse shook his head. "No. I can't. You two were simply following orders, but as for me? I've caused too much harm to their people. I'm just a remnant of an ugly and best forgotten past, and what our people need, what you both need, is to move forward." he sighed, looking down at the severely damaged mouse held at chest level, before raising his head. "Vania, I know that you have chosen this life for yourself. You have served me well, on multiple fronts, and I could have never come this far without your aid. I am eternally grateful."

Bzzt.

"As for you, my little angel... I'm sorry." Mollenoch said, looking down to her, "You deserved a much better, a much more peaceful life than I had given you."

"Heh. I wouldn't have had a life at all if it weren't for you." Gwendolynne replied with a smile, "And I couldn't have asked for a more rewarding one." she said, her smile fading. "But what about you? You worked harder than anyone! You fought harder for this world than anyone, and, what, do you plan to just go off somewhere to die? How is that fair?"

"Yes, I suppose that is my plan." The old mouse said, but he couldn't help but smile a little, "But then again, the world is a big place, and has little respect for the plans of an old fool. I had done this once before, many months ago, and, well, we all know where that led us. If this world still has a use for me, it knows where to find me."

The platinum angel nodded. As would have Vania, the Obliteratrix, if she still had a proper neck. Both still wished to go with him, of course, and to follow him wherever he might walk, but they were loyal soldiers to the end, and couldn't defy his orders. Even if they couldn't follow his body, they could still follow his will, after all. If Gwendolynne still had her legs and two working arms (even the remaining one barely functioned), she would have stepped forward to give him a hug. Fortunately, Vania was there to help her. The former shadow king held the half mouse, her current lightness reminding him of the small child he had known so long ago, back when she, again, had barely functional arms and legs, and eyes sparking with optimism.

At last, they parted ways, Vania still carrying her best friend. There was no time for long, drawn out goodbyes. Both of them had a big job ahead of them, after all.

<3~

"Hmm. It would see that they were not servants of the Devourer after all." a bird said, watching the slowly dispersing battlefield from the distance. Many of its kind were standing nearby, similarly watching.

"I kind of suspected that they weren't." Another bird replied, "I figured that it hardly mattered either way."

"Yes." yet another member of the flock said, "Everything worked out in the end. It's a shame about all the death, though."

It was unclear whether they were speaking of the mice or their own kind. A non-trivial number of the birds were blown to pieces by their own weapons in the battle with Fury, and still more who had scattered across the battleground, aiding wherever they could, found themselves shot out of the sky by the advanced weaponry of the augmented mice. As a casual estimate, I'd say that their numbers were nearly cut in half, and proportionately they had suffered far greater losses than us mice.

"Well, what can you do?" Another asked. "At least we had sex."

The first bird replied, "Agreed. I consider it a net gain in the end. We might have lost much this day, but the next generation is sure to be an interesting one."

The surviving members of the flock nodded in agreement and flew off to... whenever it is that birds go. Anywhere and everywhere, I suppose. Admittedly, I had hoped that they would choose to remain in the city, or at least that they would have come by to say goodbye. That was just not how they worked, though. It was difficult to feel too sad at their parting, anyways. I knew where to find them, after all: Anywhere and everywhere.