Night became morning, although far more gradually than one might expect. Time passed, as it always does, but the sun struggled to find proper purchase. This was not due to heavy cloud cover, however, as the sky had cleared throughout the night. There are more things than just clouds within the sky, though, especially these days. What had started off as the occasional mysterious, lone speck within the otherwise vibrant blue became a series of ever expanding islands of... of who knows what.

Those strange shapes didn't encompass the entire sky, not even close, but were more than enough to flood the town below in shadow whenever the sun found itself trapped behind one, a prospect which grew all the more frequent as the long tendrils of the strange conjoined white hexagons stretched out towards one another, sometimes reaching, other times not quite, building an ever growing web of pale discoloration above.

As for the mice, they paid little attention to this, but of course little is not the same as none. It was impossible to not be at least a little bit anxious over the sight of the sun being swallowed up by those strange barriers, struggling to peek through the linked shapes. Tensions rose further once they had met another mouse on the road. It wasn't one of the elite soldiers, or Gwendolynne or, Makers forbid, Mollenoch himself, however. They were small, unarmed, shabbily dressed, and from their haggard expression alone, one would likely assume that they bore the entire weight of the world upon their shoulders. In truth, that wasn't nearly so much of an exaggeration as one might hope.

"My love!" A trio of the birds called as they flew towards me, encircling me from all sides. Many of the mice looked to one another with confused expressions at the title, but paid it little mind. Most of them, of course, had no idea who I even was, including many of those whom I had previously met. As for me, I was glad to see the birds, I really was. Not just them, but the others as well. While I had known that they had won the previous battle, I was a little fuzzy on the details at this time, and victory didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't have taken casualties. It was good to see that they were all, or more or less all alive, even if I was in no real shape to demonstrate that relief. It was bound to be short lived, anyways.

"I'm glad to see you are safe, Bertrand." The farmer said as he approached. I was a little flattered that he had remembered my name, even if I was not really in a position to take much satisfaction from it. He blinked, noticing my terrified expression. "...You are safe, aren't you?"

"No." I shook my head, forcing back tears. There was no time for them. There was probably no time for anything, but I still had to try. "None of us are safe. You've got to get out of here... all of you. They'll be here soon, and you can't fight them! You-you just can't!"

The birds looked to me with curious expressions, but then their expressions were usually ones of curiosity. "What happened? What did they do to you?" All at once their dark eyes flashed with anger. "Did they hurt you?"

"They-they took me to an interrogation chamber." I sighed, struggling to come up with the right words quickly enough. "But they didn't ask me any questions. As it turns out, I was the interrogator. From there, one by one they sent in mice. Soldiers, engineers, tacticians. They would show me all of their blueprints, patiently talking me through any details I couldn't understand. They'd tell me of their numbers, their past strategies, and especially their weapons. Just what some of those weapons they were making were capable of. What they could do to a mouse..." I lowered my head, shuddering at the memory. "And that wasn't the worst of it. Not even close. Those new weapons of theirs..." I trailed off, lost in thought, before reminding myself of the situation. I rushed forward, taking the surprised farmer by the shoulders and looking into his eyes with my surely crazed looking ones. "You've got to get everyone out of here! You can't possibly fight them! If you do, you'll all die!"

I'm not exactly sure what sort of response I had expected from Jebediah. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised that it was so calm and measured as he looked to me and nodded, with no sense of skepticism in his expression. "I can see that you've had a rough time, and I'm sorry. We should have done a better job of keeping you safe. As for retreat, however, even if we wished to, I'm afraid that it's no longer an option."

My heart sank as I looked back over my shoulder, knowing full well what awaited me in the distance before my eyes before my eyes even take them in. I honestly had no idea of what Mollenoch's plan for me was. Presumably to demoralize their enemies, but I was hardly even given the opportunity to do that. I suppose I didn't really matter to them either way, and in the end it was likely meant to serve no greater purpose than to demonstrate his own power. That was seen as its own reward.

Row after row of robed, heavily armed mice marched in an even and disciplined formation. They guided a large, metal wheeled platform, nothing compared to their old mobile fortress, but still great in size, covered with guns and machinery, elevated above the crowd. More soldiers walked alongside it, and in behind were the closest thing that their community had to regular citizens. These were the common mice, less heavily augmented, with the enhancements they had more designed to aid with everyday living, rather than to serve on the battlefield. They wore white, and had nervous expressions. No matter how loyal and determined they might have been, they weren't trained or disciplined troops. Some of them were quite old, others were quite young. None of them were obligated to fight, and yet not one of those had mice refused when offered a weapon, their fear of not properly contributing to their greater world far surpassing any fear of injury or death.

Then there was the peak of this elevated mechanical platform which glided across the smooth street. To one side stood the platinum angel, leaning forward, a mechanical elbow rested on a raised knee, scowling, her organic eye locked on our scythe wielding leader. To the other, Vania, the so-called "Obliteratrix", a mysterious title to most, myself included. I had learned much during the days in the chamber, far too much, really, but not a thing about her. Perhaps there wasn't much to be known, but I certainly had my doubts about that. Finally, last but not least, standing all the higher atop his four-legged mechanical throne, stood the shadow king himself.

"You've got to get out of here..." I said in a soft voice, knowing full well that it was impossible. What else could I say, after all?

"You're free to run away if you want." The farmer said to me, "But, one way or another, I still have a job to do."

I studied the words for any sense of judgement or accusation. I studied them hard, too, expecting, almost eager for him to accuse me of being a coward, but there are no harsh recriminations. The words were entirely devoid of any sort of judgement. Clearly, I could have run past him, as fast as my rather unathletic legs could have carried me, and he wouldn't have thought even the slightest bit less of me. For some reason I didn't. But I couldn't stand proudly, either. I couldn't endure the cold eyes of my former confidant, much less those of my would-be assassination target. Instead, in a fashion no less cowardly than had I turned tail and ran, I slunk in behind the farmer like a frightened child.

The rest of the soldiers had formed a solid perimeter around him, and although we had no real set squadrons or tactics, they divvied up on their own into natural groups. There was Sellas and her Starman cultists, looking far stronger, better geared and much more determined then when I had last seen them. There was Reginald and his army of batters, with dark streaks painted under their eyes, eagerly rapping the long wooden clubs into their open paws. Then there was Archibald, and his pitchers, rounded rocks in hand, which each one of the red uniformed mice would toss back and forth between their wrapped paw and their oversized fabric mitt. The flock didn't remain together, as they had little need to, effortlessly able to communicate from great distances. They were scattered among the crowd, largely keeping to the back, not exactly being sturdy front-line fighters. From there were the many disparate groups of new recruits, who banded among themselves in no particular order. All of these mice formed a partial ring around their leader, but still offering both him and his inner circle an abundance of space, none daring to get too close.

Of course Meryll stood by the farmers side, as did, somewhat less expectantly, Samson. He had been elevated to a sort of leadership role, largely against his will and without ever realizing it. Annabelle stood next to him, her paw in his, but as usual it was unclear of exactly how well she understood where she was, much less the implications of it. Then, there was Tanzra, and her dark lord. Her role and position had always been a nebulous one, but no one was willing to tell the orange cat, as peaceful and happy as he looked, that he and his rider were unwelcome among the leadership. Dave was there, of course, too, staring blankly as always. Another member of what was, apparently, the core leadership, purely by virtue of time spent within the group and nobody telling him otherwise, not that he would have likely listened, either way.

This was a rather terrible formation, all things considered. The forces of the shadow king had no shortage of ranged weaponry, and had they so desired, they could have picked off the entire leadership of our force before they could even effectively respond. They didn't, however. They had no need to.

"You must be the one that they call the 'Bloody Hell Reaper'?" The deep, amplified and digitized voice of Mollenoch called out. Few of the mice on our side could resist cringing and falling back half a step in response to it.

"Well, that wasn't exactly a name I chose for myself." The farmer replied, as casually as he would when speaking to an old acquaintance over dinner. His own voice was neither booming nor commanding, and certainly not enhanced by any sort of technology. Still, everyone could hear it quite clearly. With everyone being so tense, every small sound might as well have been an echoing scream.

"Really? I think the more verbose title suits you far better." The large, masked mouse laughed his false, rehearsed cackle as he called down to him. "I'm sure that your spineless little friend down there told you the general details. You know what we want. You can fight and die, or surrender and serve. It hardly makes a difference to me."

I fell back another step, looking away in shame. As for our leader, however, he actually smiled and chuckled. "Don't confuse physical weakness for cowardice. There's nothing brave about intimidating those weaker than you. Bravery comes with choosing to stand, in spite of fear."

"You primitives constantly confuse bravery with stupidity. It hardly matters." The masked mouse replied, the practiced unhinged tension flowing through his voice. "Give me your answer."

Jebediah frowned and shook his head. "Honestly, I'm not sure that I can. I, we, still have no idea what it actually is that you want, and until we do, I can't really justify joining you or surrendering." He said, "Now, I have no doubt that you're a very busy man, but you've spent all this time, to come all this way. I'm sure that a few minutes to explain yourself wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience?"

The masked king stood silently for several seconds, staring, before finally answering. "There is nothing to explain. All that you have will become ours, one way or another. Your citizens, your castle, your city and, more importantly, your additional territories."

At those final words, Samson perked up, sudden realization flooding across the face of the one-eyed mouse. "Additional territories..." He said, looking across the metal clad army, taking a quick assessment of the surely massive amount of required materials. "You mean the car yards, don't you? That's what all of this is about, isn't it?"

Admittedly, this was a piece of the puzzle which I hadn't put together. The car yards were, of course, a massive property made up of old, ruined Maker vehicles, and the former den of the dark lord, Fury, before he was defeated and driven out by Jerin and her allies. I doubted that even the engineers of the shadow king could get the ancient vehicles moving, but they still held a near infinite amount of precious metals and materials. Materials which, even for a force as powerful as the shadow king's, were not easy to come by.

"Yes." Mollenoch said, "While we will happily take your citizens into our ranks, and help them to reach their true potential, they ultimately do not matter. Whether we properly annex your peoples and lands or raze them to the ground makes little difference to us. But, with such a supply of materials in our hands, there is no limit to what we could accomplish."

Jebediah shook his head and audibly chuckled, much to the alternating surprise and annoyance of the many mice, both fully organic and augmented, present. "Really? Is that all? Well, why didn't you just say so? I mean, I'm in no position to negotiate this sort of stuff myself, but from what I hear, it's a pretty huge place. I have no doubt that the king would be willing to offer you access to it."

"Oh, you have 'no doubt', do you? You're that confident that a group of foreign mice will be free to enter and leave as we please, and use the metal within to build ever stronger weaponry? Weaponry which could potentially be used against that feeble kingdom of yours?"

At this, the farmer froze, clearly having not considered that. "Well... I'm sure that some sort of agreement could be made..."

"And even if, hypothetically, it was, who is to say that your side would honor it? Even if your king is so noble, what about the next king? What about the citizens? What if they later decide that they no longer wish to offer us access to it? Or simply choose to make it more and more difficult?" Mollenoch said, his voice changing, in an instant, from booming and forceful to calm and measured. It was clear that he had no longer felt the need to put on a show.

"To be honest, I don't know what to tell you. I'm just a simple man, and none of us can say what the future will bring." Jebediah sighed, "I just know that we can't let what 'might' happen in the future stand in the way of today's peace."

"You're a fool to think to compare yourself to someone like me. Maybe you don't know where the future will lead us..." He said, "But I do. It's because, unlike you and your people, I am not some whimsical child that leaves things up to chance. We may be a bold people and prone to risk on the smaller scale, endangering our own lives in the process, but in the grander sense? We do not simply toss the dice and see what happens. I have not been sitting idle. The risks that I, and my people, have taken were all to build an ever stronger foundation in the present, to make the road forward as smooth and clear as possible. This wasn't done through hopes or prayers, but rigid planning, sacrifice and hard work. By leaving no room for uncertainty. No half measures."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"There has to be some way that we can both get what we want." The farmer replied, sounding all the less certain the longer that he speaks.

"You mean a way for neither of us to get what we want. Ultimately that is your idea of compromise. I know your kind, ignorant and idealistic. You envision a world where everyone works together for mutual happiness? Well, in reality, even in a peaceful society, it is the strong that crush the weak. Let's say that we were able to both co-exist, your kingdom and mine... better yet, imagine they could properly unite as equals! What then? Well, I'll tell you what happens: Stagnation. Even if, and I'm being extremely generous, half of your people agreed with our principles and wished to move forward, what of the other half? Even if less then half, even if a fraction, you know what they''ll do, don't you? They'll fight tooth and claw, stymying every even faint effort to move things forward in favor of the familiar. We would need to work twice as hard to overcome this fanatical resistance, and should we slip up, even once, even for a moment? They would eagerly drag us and everyone else back to the dark ages."

"That hardly seems fair. Okay, maybe we don't have the exact same ideas as you do, and maybe we aren't quite as advanced, but we're moving forward, too."

"Are you? Or are you just playing pretend, maybe occasionally creating small conveniences, while everything ultimately remains the same?" The masked leader asked, pure derision flowing through the words. "Your kind don't want things to truly change. You're too arrogant. Too scared. Too afraid of finding yourselves old and obsolete, just like the rest of the world is. What you fail to realize, however, what this entire world doesn't realize, is that no matter how hard it fights, it is already obsolete, and one way or another, its time is at an end. Now then, I've humored your ignorant and childish philosophies for long enough. We will not depend on the whims and mercies of inferiors to move forward. We will, instead, crush any potential obstacles which stand in our way, to make as clear a road as possible for both us and our future generations."

The farmer frowned a little, knowing full well that the negotiations, or at least what could be considered an effort at negotiations, were at an end.

"Now then, 'Reaper'... will you kneel and join us as we work towards this beautiful future where mice have nothing to fear?" The shadow king called once more in his booming, unsettlingly augmented voice, signaling that his own desire to debate the matter had similarly passed, "Or will you and yours just become more rubble on the side of the road, ruined testaments to your weakness and lack of adaptability?"

"I don't want to see anyone get hurt." The farmer sighed, "And your offer isn't entirely without temptation. It's clear that you and your people are very powerful, and have accomplished great things. I have no doubt that you could help us accomplish great things as well. Unfortunately, it's not my choice to make. I'm just one man, and, well, this kingdom belongs to everyone. I'm not qualified to decide to let you have it, and if I stand down now, well, that's exactly what I'll be doing. I can see that you have a grand vision for this world, and I can respect that, but the world is meant to be a big and complicated place. It's meant to be one where a whole lot of ideas and visions come together, even if it's sometimes messy. Maybe because it's messy."

Mollenoch remained standing like a statue, but Gwendolynne leaned further forward, glaring at the enemy mouse.

"Anyways, I don't really know what I'm talking about. I can't say that I've ever been good at this sort of thing. I can't tell all these good folks to stand down, nor can I tell them to fight. That's up for them to decide." Jebediah said as he turned to look across his own army. "You've all heard the argument. In the end, your lives are your own. You're not getting paid, and don't owe anyone any loyalties. Each and every one of you are free to join him if you want... hey, who knows, he might even be right."

The farmer chuckled a little more, regaining his ever relaxed composure, even if the rest of the mice felt quite the opposite, murmuring softly to themselves. "But, I can't join you." He said to the masked king. "Maybe it's just my own prejudices and short sightedness. Maybe I'm just one of those mice who, even if they don't realize it, just want everything to stay the same, and fear progress. All I know, though, is that when I hear your words, when I hear you talking about this world that you want to create, I don't hear any joy or enthusiasm. They just sound cold. Unnatural. Artificial. As artificial as the many faces I see among your army, as cold and lifeless as your own. And, again, maybe I am just an ignorant fool, but personally? I can't see any way that a world I would want to live in could come from your attitudes or methods. Maybe the world isn't perfect, in fact it definitely isn't, but at least in a world of flesh and blood, people are capable of smiling."

"So that is your answer." Mollenoch said. "You choose death for you and your people."

Another chuckle, "You just don't get it, do you? You're so obsessed with controlling everything, that you can't even understand what it's like to not command people and rule with an iron fist." The farmer said, "No. I just told you what I, personally think. As for all of the others? Well, I'm no king, and wouldn't really even want to be one. It sounds like an awful lot of bother. Each and every one of them can choose on their own." He called back over his shoulder, "So, go ahead. Walk over to their side if you want to. I won't think any less of any of you that do. I figure I'm not really qualified to think less of anyone else. So, what'll it be?"

Of course none of our allies moved. It would have probably been naive to say that each and every one of them had believed in the cause and were moved by our leaders words. Peer pressure had undoubtedly played a role. If even a few chose to walk away, likely more would have followed, and who knows when the hemorhaging of our forces might have stopped. There were other factors at play as well, however. Jebediah wasn't wrong. It was difficult to look at that cold metal face and see those terrifying weapons and genuinely convince yourself that this was the path towards a world of anything but pain and fear.

"Well, there you have it." Jebediah sighed, perhaps a little bit disappointed that they all chose to stand and fight. Maybe in the end he had hoped that they would have all surrendered, even if he couldn't justify doing so himself, and that the inevitable conflict to come would be unnecessary.

"Well, how about you folks?" He called to the opposing army. "Why not put those weapons down, and come see our kingdom as guests? All are always welcome. I'll admit, it might not be the cleanest or most secure place in the world, and life can be difficult, but I will say that it's a world where any mouse, without exception, can make their own path. It might not be quite the world you're used to, but I'll bet you'd enjoy it!"

There wasn't even so much as a murmur among the augmented mice. Not one of them seemed to consider the offer for even a moment.

"A pitiful effort." Mollenoch said, voice calm and measured once again, "Unlike your people, my own aren't selfish and arrogant. They, we, are all servants to a greater cause. As for you and yours? They know you are just ashes in the wind. That you are all remnants of a bygone era of weakness, too stupid to even realize that your time has passed."

Weapons were raised on our side, stones and bats readied, open paws charged with arcane energies ready to launch spells, spears, swords and the occasional bow drawn. Nobody struck or rushed forward, but were prepared for the moment that their leader gave an order, no matter how subtle. Perhaps that wouldn't even have been necessary. A single, trigger happy soldier on either side would have been enough to ignite a bloody conflict. Instead, the tensions on both sides had dissolved all at once.

"Molly?" An unexpected feminine voice called out from our own side as a middle aged mouse woman pushed her way past the many soldiers. Claire looked about, her expression positively beaming as she saw the masked mouse standing atop the tall mobile throne. "I knew it! It is you!"

"C-Claire?" The shadow king said, his digitized voice unexpectedly flustered, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"It's been so long, I just had to see you!" she said, rushing past the confused farmer and his cohorts. As for the augmented army itself, they were similarly confused, having no idea of whether they should block the approach of the apparently unarmed mouse woman, knowing full well that if they impeded the progress of an acquaintance of their great leader, they could potentially suffer greatly for it. Instead they stood aside, but none were confident in that decision. "I was crushed when you went away. When I went away, but-but look at you! Look at what you have become!"

There was no way to see the expression of Mollenoch under the heavy metal and glass mask. There were no shortage of other expressions visible, however, and none of the mice within his army, his generals included, had any idea of what to make of the situation. "Claire..." He said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

"You used to be a truly great man... a mighty warrior, praised by everyone, but now?" She hopped up onto the mobile metal platform, "Now, you've finally reached your full potential, and become the man that I always knew that you one day would!" The woman smiled up at him, taking one of the thick metal legs of the mobile throne in her paws, as though it were her former lovers hand. "Now, at long last, we can destroy this world, together!"

"Maybe we should have asked her some more follow-up questions about the nature of their relationship." Samson said, too surprised to be properly annoyed.

"I'm not exactly trying to destroy the world here..." The shadow king replied to her, still sounding both nervous and unexpectedly shy.

"Oh, there's no need to quibble over the little details." Claire said.

"Wait a just moment... why on earth would you want to destroy the world?" Jebediah asked the suddenly cheerful and talkative woman.

She sighed and looked to him with an impatient expression, as though the answer were the most obvious thing in the world, and that he was wasting her time by needing her to explain it. "Because one can only truly defy the natural order through complete eradication. Simple small scale suicide won't do it, as there is always other life to fill the void. We are largely a deterministic species, driven by our instincts which we can't control, thrust into a world we didn't create, and responding to it based off of a series of chemical reactions we don't choose. We are slaves to existence, driven by the universes desire to slowly adapt and evolve in its own way. All rational behavior leads to this end, which only leaves the irrational choice: Complete self destruction. Not mere extinction of ones own species, but extinction of all species. An evolutionary path which no rational world could possibly lead to. The one that could only be a product of free will! The ultimate expression of freedom, and escape from this deterministic existence!"

"Oh." The farmer blinked, understanding maybe half of that. "You... put more thought into this than I expected."

"Of course." The older woman scoffed, "What, did you think I just decided that the all life needed to be annihilated on a whim?" she shook her head and smiled up at Mollenoch, "But that's doesn't matter. For now, I believe that you have some vermin that need killing?"

"Yes." The masked mouse nodded. "That I do."

Our own mice one more raised their weapons and crouched, defensively, hesitant to strike first, but not wishing to be caught unaware, either. Strangely, the opposing mice didn't do the same. They didn't take defensive positions, of even raise their rifles. That's when, from behind the augmented army, three dark shapes began to appear over the horizon.

"No way..." Meryll said, her eyes wide, as the large creatures came into view. She was among the few who recognized the exact identities of the trio, but in truth, that mattered little. From appearance alone, everyone else had a roughly similar response.

Three dark lords sauntered up, the mechanical mice opening up a path to them. One was a long furred feline of purest white, another gray and scraggly, of a large face and body, and the third, sleek and black as night. Their colorful eyes stared vacantly at nothing, no longer even animalistic or monstrous, closer to those of corpses. The three were covered in assorted devices.

Midnight was covered in circuitry, blinking colored lights and wires which ran all along his dark, lithe form, the wiring all meeting at the center of a metal harness about his chest which linked to a half-helmet hooked around an ear. Fury, the massive grey feline wasn't quite so heavily adorned, covered in little bits and pieces that looked to be outright bolted into the flesh, far less symmetrical, seemingly haphazard in their placement, but I, of course, knew that the devices were anything but, with a metal, wired cage covering the upper portion of its face. Finally there was Seraphim, more elaborately armored in shining red, a curved helmet atop her fluffy head, with a large, green stone set at its center.

The new weapons of our enemy were finally ready for a proper test.

They didn't rush forward, but attacked all the same. The grey cat let out a roar, seemingly silent to the ears, but everyone on front of the creature could feel it (it, conveniently, left the mouse soldiers of Mollenoch's army unaffected). It was like a wind blowing forth, and gravity pushing down at the same time, dramatically increasing in force and intensity with each passing moment. That's when everything turned green. The emotionless eyes of the black cat were opened wide, the sickening color of them spilling out into the world like a flood, and of similar pressure. Many of our troops struggled to remain upright as the ever more intense waves of power consumed them. Far more were sent flying backwards, helplessly, including Annabelle and Tanzra who, while she was both strong and had an excellent sense of balance, found that her elevated position had worked against her, forcing her to take the full blunt of the strange attacks. As a result, despite her best efforts, she just couldn't maintain a strong enough grip on her loyal mount. Augustus quickly chased after her, vanishing into the crowd of our allies who required every bit of strength they had to even maintain their footing.

Meryll slowly crept forward, struggling to maintain the grip of her toes on the ground, and thrust her shield down into the road, in hopes of deflecting some of the waves of intense power. Samson, for his part, tried to do the same with his wind magic, creating a crude barrier with it, in order to reinforce the shield. They had to, after all, because even as disoriented as they were by the intense, unnatural forces, they knew that the real attack was still yet to come. It was impossible to miss, the white cat floating in mid-air above the other two, glowing a radiant gold like a miniature sun, energy gathering within the small stone at its forehead. Finally, those energies were all released at once.

It split into two separate threads of blue light which, contrary to expectations, did not target Jebediah or his close allies. Instead one tore to the left, and the other right, moving lightning quick across each side of the army, before meeting once more at the back. The mice panicked, at first, but couldn't help smile with relief as the beam passed harmlessly through the bodies. The series of explosions happened just a moment later, following alongside the two paths of light. Those struck directly by them were essentially obliterated, with others nearby not being nearly so lucky, surely being doomed to a much more gruesome and painful fate.

The vast bulk of our forces were not caught in the actual line blasts, however. Nor were Jebediah, myself, Samson or Meryll, nor a sizable chunk of both of the pitchers and batters, who were cut straight down the middle by the beams. Instead, we could only crouch and endure the intense winds of arcane energies, augmented by the mysterious machines, as the earth crumbled beneath our feet, sending us tumbling into the black abyss. As for everyone else, they, bird and mouse alike, immediately scattered in all directions.

Gwendolynne frowned as she looked down from the metal platform, studying the shape of the massive hole in the road. "Really? Hearts?" She sighed to Vania. "Seriously?"

Beep.

"Yeah, yeah." She said, but she couldn't help smile as she turned to her king. "Give me the order, and I'll chase and cut down all those that fled."

"That's not necessary." Mollenoch replied, his eyes looking forward. "There is no need for us to split up our forces. Pretty soon, those that scattered won't have a safe haven to return to. We'll be able to hunt them down at our leisure."

The half-mechanical mouse smiled and nodded her head. She raised a metal paw and swung it downwards, giving the signal to advance. The many augmented soldiers immediately rushed forward, splitting to circumnavigate the massive heart shaped hole to each side, the wheeled platform quickly following, and the three silent dark lords in tow, as they began their final march upon the now defenseless city.