"Isn't this a surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you here." Mollenoch said.

"Heh, well, you didn't think I'd just sit back and let you destroy our kingdom, did you?" Jerin replied, holding her needle sword out towards him.

"I honestly did, but then I suppose that I should have known better." The shadow king sighed, "But enough talk... have at you! Mollenoch blast!"

The attack, of course, proved completely ineffective against the young heroine. "Ha! It will take a lot more than that for you to defeat me! Take this! Pew, pew, pew!"

The blacksmith roughly smashed the two plush action figures against one another in a display which was surely far more engaging within her own imagination. Meanwhile, her older sibling stepped in behind her, sighing loudly as he sees the girl on the floor encircled by the pile of irregular figurines. "You're definitely too old for this." He said.

"You're never too old to have fun." Jerin replied with a confident nod. She had been working hard these days, after all, and considered herself to be more than entitled to a little bit of recreation.

"You know, there's an actual battle going on outside as we speak. Wouldn't actually helping to fight be more productive than playing with toys and pretending to?" Aaron asked.

"No! Well... maybe." The blacksmith shrugged. "I've already done the whole hero thing. It turns out that the whole experience is highly overrated. Now, it's the new guys turn... old whats-his-name... with the hat." She blinked and tilted her head towards the much larger sibling. "Did he wear a hat? I can't remember." which was only met with a shrug by Aaron, who had no idea, having never met the man. "Anyways, I'm sure he's got the situation well in hand. No need for me to butt in and steal all the glory. You don't need to worry about that... come and play with me!"

"Are you sure they'll be alright? It still seems like you should probably help..."

Jerin blinked and head-tilted. "I don't see you running out to fight..."

"Um, well..." The older sibling sputtered a little before finally sighing. "Fine."

"Great! You can play Mollenoch!" she grinned, handing the much older and well worn figure to the larger mouse over to Aaron.

"Why do I have to be the bad guy?" He asked, only to be met with an annoyed stare. "Okay, fine..."

<3~

That last bit probably wasn't necessary, but I thought that it was important to explain why the legendary hero didn't simply show up and quickly resolve the entire conflict on her own. By this point, the battle was raging, but I certainly didn't like our chances, even if our side did gain a bit of an early advantage with that surprise attack. I liked my own chances even less. I had my dagger out, but I couldn't imagine it proving to be any more effective at keeping me alive than my quill and paper were. Still, I just couldn't bring myself to run away. I knew that I had a duty to record these events for future generations, but there was much more to it than that. There had to be some way that I could really help, even if my scholarly integrity told me that I needed to remain neutral. I had already given up on that long ago.

I let out a surprised yelp as a large, mechanical hammer swung down in my direction, and would have well taken my head clean off had I not fallen out of its path. Sadly, hammers are not single use items. From my seated position on the ground, I looked up at the green, cloaked figure, their snout encased in metal, but their natural, pitiless eyes visible through the dark glass visor. I shut my eyes as he swung the heavy weapon down once more, only for it this time to be caught by another blade and cast aside.

"Hey, I know you!" A familiar childish yet thoroughly gravely voice said, as the girl extended a fleshless bone paw towards me. I had grabbed it without even thinking, having no time to feel disgust at the prospect, just eager to get myself out of harms way.

Once back on my feet, I could only stare in surprise at the undead elder of the tunnels. Behind her I could see several others of her kind, charging into the fray, recognizable at a glance due to their lack of clothing and non-pigmented fur. Of course the many non-bleeding mortal wounds were pretty clear hints of their true nature as well.

"What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't be out in the sun?" I asked.

"Heh, the sun's not a problem. These caps shield us from it!" She grinned, hefting her massive, rusted and irregular blade over her shoulder. It was jagged, filthy and seemingly made of a dozen different materials clumsily bound or otherwise fused together. Barely recognizable as a weapon, but it certainly looked heavy and had no shortage of pointy bits on it. I guess that alone takes you 90% of the way to being a proper weapon. I blinked, looking up at the bright red cap on her half-fleshless head. "As for us being here, well, we figured that we owed our friends in the kingdom our help." She said. I was still a bit little skeptical, as the undead mice tended to keep to themselves , avoiding interfering in outside affairs, "Plus, you know... that Mollenoch guy did destroy half of our home."

That, naturally, made a lot more sense. The damage inflicted when the road had collapsed was quite extensive. In hindsight, the undead mice would have had another, perfectly valid reason to hold a grudge against Shadow King Mollenoch, one that went way back to before his sudden heel-turn. The legends stated that he was famed for his many battles against an evil necromancer. On further research, it turned out that there was no actual necromancer, just the underground undead denizens who he had found himself in regular conflict with. I would later ask Grace about the so-called 'Giga-Dragon', the powerful minion of said necromancer. She said that it was just a sewer alligator. I have no idea what that even is. Anyways, despite a non-trivial amount of the damage on their undead bodies having come from young Mollenoch himself, they seemed to harbor no resentment over it, claiming partial responsibility for conflict as a whole.

"Uh, I don't think it's that cap that's keeping you safe. It's more likely those... whatever they are," I said to her, pointing up to the sky at the strange islands of interconnected, textureless hexagons which were currently blocking out the sun. "You and your people should avoid staying out too long."

She frowned, clearly rather disappointed by the idea. While large, the blockage wouldn't cut off the sun for forever, even if it had blanketed the region in a deep shade for the entire morning, thus far. She finally shrugged. "Whatever. You should probably get yourself out of the way, too." Grace said in a nonchalant tone, "This is no place for a non-combatant.

As if to accentuate that statement, there was a deafening bang, and a shower of bone and wetness which splashed across my cheek, as the cap atop her head was sent flying. I could only stare in shock as her one milky eye had vanished, replaced by a jagged hole in its place, through which I could see clear through the back of her skull, at the hammer wielding soldier that we had somehow forgotten about, who had exchanged their melee weapon for a long barreled rifle.

The undead mouse stumbled forward a step, and I was sure she was going to collapse, but instead took no time at all to regain her balance, very slowly turning her head to glare at the attacker, not that she had any proper eyes left to really glare at him with. "Oh, you're going to regret that..." she growled. A safe prediction, as judging from the way that the enemy soldier was shaking all over, they already did. I could only presume that he regretted it all the more once the small mouse leapt at them with greater speed than a half destroyed body should have been capable of, her terrifying blade raised high.

I wasn't sure how that specific melee had turned out, even if I could have made a pretty safe guess. Unfortunately, most of the scuffles going on weren't leaning nearly so heavily in our favor. Especially those against the augmented dark lords. If we could have taken on those three with our entire force, we'd have stood a good chance, but there was only a small group, too small, handling each one. Not by choice, of course, as the remainder of our army more than had their hands full with the enemy soldiers, who alone we would have been hard pressed to defeat. They were stronger, faster, far tougher and, worst of all, could fight almost indefinitely without tiring. Similar to our fight outside of Home Base, The longer that the battle drew out, the less likely that it was to favor us.

If only there were some way to take the three dark lords out of the battle, we might have at least stood a fighting chance. During my interrogation, I had seen some details about those new weapons, but nothing very helpful. Even without their augmentations, I knew that each one of the beasts was a force to be reckoned with, and nearly impervious to conventional weaponry. The added technologies further enhanced their dark powers, removing all sense of fear or doubt, and worst of all, left them entirely under the enemy's control. Still, I knew that I was missing something. Something that I had learned, not from the interrogation, but during my tour of the city. Something that I had dismissed as unimportant at the time, back when I was already finding myself so overwhelmed with new information.

Then it hit me: Our tools can't cut into their flesh. That was what the engineer had said. Clearly, at the time, they were talking about the then captured dark lords.

Okay, so what exactly does that mean? It meant that they didn't actually have implants. Even at a glance, of course, all of their limbs and bodies were completely intact. The devices that empowered them were simply worn, not surgically ingrained. And that didn't just apply to the machines that made them stronger, either...

I scanned the horizon, and rushed towards the nearest dark lord that I could see. An easy task, seeing as how the creatures towered over the battlefield. Perhaps there was still a way that I could help, yet.

<3~

The nearby battleground was a complete mess. Most of the grass had been burnt away, the earth littered with heart shaped craters, as the fight against Seraphim raged on. The two players, Archibald and Reginald were not alone, each having a rather small contingent of their own subordinates fighting alongside. Both much smaller than they were when the battle had begun, as many lie scattered about, wounded or worse. The mice were unlikely to receive any reinforcements, either, everyone else engaged in their own life or death struggles. Fortunately, Mollenoch's army was in a similar situation, and even if they were technically allied with the dark lords, it was clear than none of the augmented soldiers were eager to stand alongside the gigantic, rampaging beasts.

The great white cat was being pelted from all sides. The struck pitches towards it meant that, at the very least, everyone could try to keep their distance as best that they could. The dark lord in her red armor wasn't so easily evaded, however. While none of her attacks demonstrated anywhere close to the power demonstrated when she had brought the entire street down before, they were quick and more than capable of taking out any mice that were stuck by it, as well as any sort of cover that they had tried to maintain. The earth was thrown up all around as the barely visible beams struck the ground again and again, rarely, but not never, taking a uniformed mouse who had tried to evade just a little bit too slowly along with it.

Worse, despite being massive and powerful, such creatures were also renowned for their incredible speed. She didn't only rely on her advanced weaponry, she would pounce, phase in and our of existence to avoid strikes, and all too often, simply vanish and re-appear right in the middle of her opponents, and from there, her wickedly sharp claws were deadly enough, even without any mechanical augmentations.

To the credit of the foreign mice, they weren't faltering. Both Archibald and Reginald had continued to bark out orders and try to devise proper battle formations, which their followers had obeyed without hesitation, showing no fear even in the face of such overwhelming power. I suspected that this courage and stamina came, in no small part, from Annabelle who knelt at the back of the force, her instrument cradled under her neck, eyes closed as always, playing an energetic, quick-tempoed theme which even made me want to try fighting. Almost. The players were doing quite well, given the circumstances, but it clearly wasn't enough. Their numbers had been nearly cut in half, while the dark lord, Seraphim showed no signs of real damage. She didn't completely ignore the attacks which struck her, but they seemed like more of an inconvenience than a real threat.

None of that really mattered, however. I was here for a reason. There was something that I needed to see, and after a bit of searching, I finally found it. High above the ground, build into the red metal helmet of the dark lord was the object I had been looking for: A single, silver disk, held vertically, spinning around, just behind her long, pointed metal covered ear. Something that I had seen both on an electronic screen within the base, and the plans of during my interrogation. A device designed to collect and receive signals.

It wasn't just the weapons and enhancements which were placed outside of the body. The method that Mollenoch and his scientists used to control the creatures was there as well. Lost in thought, I barely had time to shield my face from a burst of flying earth, a shot that thankfully wasn't aimed at me, otherwise I would have surely died where I stood.

"This place is dangerous, friend!" Reginald the batter said, taking me by the arm, pulling me aside. "I know that there are a shortage of safe spaces around, but if you are searching for one, you couldn't have chosen much worse."

"Listen to me!" I shouted over the sounds of battle, pointing a finger towards the head of the battling monster, "That... that disk shaped thing, behind her ear! If you can somehow manage to destroy that, Mollenoch shouldn't be able to control the dark lord anymore!"

"Will that really help much?" The mouse asked. "From what I hear, even when it had free will, this beast was no friend to your kind."

"I heard everything." Archibald said, jogging up, panting, his red uniform in tatters. "It's certainly no guarantee, but it is worth a try. Even if this monster does continue to fight once freed, at least it will pose a threat to these cheaters as well as our own forces!"

The batter nodded. "Agreed. As much as I hate to admit it, we're making little progress on our own. Even a slight chance is worth taking." He turned to me, "Thank you, little one. You should leave this place, though. It isn't safe here for you."

My shoulders slumped, "Isn't there anything I can do to help?" I asked, desperately.

"You already have. It might not work, but it gives us something to aim for." Archibald smiled, patting me on the shoulder, "It's a small target, but I can promise my own aim is true. The question that remains is whether you can hit my pitches back with accuracy as well as power?" He said to the batter.

"Heh, you know that I can." As all three of us shielded our eyes from another frighteningly close-by explosion. "As for you, Bertrand, was it?" Reginald asked. I nodded in response, "Good. As for you, there are still other fights going on. You probably won't be able to aid in their victories any more than we will, so distracted by this creature, but I have no doubt that the others fighting these beasts will have much use for this information."

I hesitated, just a little, before nodding in agreement. It might not be much, and it might not make a big difference in the end, but that was fine. I had never fancied myself a great hero, anyways. If I could contribute, even a little bit, that would be enough. It would have to be enough. I turned and ran towards the huge, black form in the distance, and the many armed mice encircled all around it, where another battle was clearly taking place. Say what you will about those dark lords, but at least on this battlefield, they were certainly easy to find.

"Well, we had better do our part as well. We have been waylaid far too long by this monster. We still have a job to do." Archibald said, tossing a stone ball up and down in his paw.

"That we do, my rival." the batter nodded in agreement. "That we do."

Both of the mice ran in separate directions before skidding to a stop. Archibald drew his arm back and threw the ball with such force that it was little more than a blue streak of energy which sailed from his paw. While practically invisible, Reginald swung at seemingly nothing, only for a loud konk sound to follow, as the streak changed directory in mid-air, sailing towards the head of the white cat. The metal ear chimed when struck, but completely shielded their intended target. It did manage to attract the dark lords attention, however, as the stone at the center of its forehead glowed a bright blue, signaling an upcoming attack.

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The pitcher dove aside, but Reginald instead rushed towards the cat, his bat raised. "What are you doing?" Archibald called to him.

"I'm tired of running." Reginald said, smiling, tightly gripping the handle of his bat in both hands, standing sideways, eyes locked on the vacant golden ones of his foe. "We batters have never been ones to avoid danger. Instead, we face it head on!"

The pitcher looked crestfallen, but knew that he could make no argument. He understood this to be a task which only Reginald could accomplish. The beam was fired, just as Reginald sidestepped it, as he didn't wish to be struck by it himself, he wished to strike it, instead, with his bat, and that was exactly what he did. Despite moving at a speed beyond comprehension, he swung it and impacted the blue light with the center of the wooden weapon, ready to launch it straight back at his opponent, but instead found himself stopped, mid-swing. The batter wasn't standing idle, as sweat poured down his furred face, and all of his muscles tensed, but the bat refused to push forward to finish the swing. Quite the contrary, Reginald found himself steadily losing ground, feet skidding backwards across the loose earth.

"Heh. I should have known you couldn't handle this on your own." The pitcher smiled, rushing in behind the batter. "The problem with your methods, the problem that was always there with fighting force with force is that it only works when you are the stronger one." He said, drawing his own arm back, "...but the world is a big place, and sometimes that you can't count on that being the case. Sometimes you can't fight destiny. You can only add its power to your own."

And so he threw his stone at the bat. Not in an effort to have it knocked back, of course, as Reginald was in no position to do so, but instead he hit the back of the bat, throwing with all of his might, adding that force to the swing. All of that extra power was just enough. The blue surge of energy was thrown backwards, striking the cat in the head with a devastating impact, sending it falling over onto its side with a great boom, leaving a great cloud of dust as it landed.

Reginald, the batter, panted, his whole body aching, and looked down at the wooden bat, which nearly had a hole bored straight through it. "What a shame." He said, but he didn't look too disappointed, "I was hoping to handle it myself, but I suppose we'll have to share credit for that one."

The pitcher stood alongside him and nodded, but in an instant, his expression turned cold and he shoved the batter backwards with both paws. In the very last moment he saw, through the cloud of dust, a great white light in the sky, the feline levitating in place, a portion of their helmet chipped away revealing a rather ugly cut which bled down onto the golden eye. And so she fired. It was not the sort of blast which could be hopped out of the way from, or caught with a swung bat. Something bigger, far more devastating. Something which there was little hope of escaping from.

Reginald coughed, his ears ringing, but he gradually he found himself able to take in the sounds around him. Or, more accurately, the complete lack thereof. It took a lot of effort to rise back up to his feet, his arm broken in multiple places, and fur singed in far more.

"Thanks for the help, my rival." He said, as the smoke cleared, limping over to the pitcher, who was curled up on the ground. "Archibald?" He crouched down to roll the mouse over, and his eyes went wide, as he cupped his good paw to his mouth, barely able to fight off the urge to vomit. He was no doctor, of course, but even at a glance, it was abundantly clear that the pitcher wasn't going to be getting up. There was no more music in the air, either. All around him were huddled bodies of mice in varying states of injury, including that of the blind bard, lying face down in the earth, her battered instrument with its broken strings sitting a few lengths away.

<3~

Sellas and her followers were faring better, but only marginally so. Much like with the players, this wasn't due to a lack of effort of even ability on their part, rather the fact that they were, quite obviously, outclassed. The fact that most of the cultists had used melee weapons was both a benefit and a drawback. Ranged weapons made by us mice, while obviously effective, tended to both lack stopping power, and required a great deal of skill to use. This meant that while the attackers couldn't keep their distance, and gradually wear their foes down from range, it also meant that their strikes had significantly more impact, and that they could potentially overwhelm their foe.

The sleek, black cat didn't appear to be nearly as sturdy as the white one, but that doesn't matter too much. In the end, it was like comparing a wall of steel to a wall of diamond. If you lacked the power to break through either, they might as well be the same thing. Midnight couldn't completely shrug off the endless rain of attacks, but it was clear that they weren't causing significant damage, either. Still, all that they could do was try.

Each and every one of their weapons glowed brightly, as a result of Sellas' enchantments. She had utilized the same technique during the battle outside of Home Base, but both there and here, there was no clear sign or whether it significantly increased the power of the weaponry, or was little more than a visual effect. Still, it was rather impressive when one considers the difficulties involved in sorcery. There had long been rumors of mages among the followers, and the believers themselves often claimed that their Starman was the source of all magic (well, seeing as how they claimed that he was essentially the source of everything, this hardly comes as a surprise), but those rumors were unconfirmed. The group had no shortage of strange stories surrounding them, after all.

As for the black cat himself, mercifully, he seemed to lack any devastating wide-range weaponry. Rather than focusing his energies into heart shaped beams, for some reason, the enhancements were more designed to bolster his natural talents, which were, unfortunately, largely unknown. The details of how the dark lord, Midnight was subdued by Jerin were fuzzy, to say the least. His shape would regularly distort into a sort of dark cloud which made telling where his attacks were coming from quite difficult, and the cultists weren't overly aggressive. They couldn't be, really. Even putting aside the lethal claws and teeth, a large, green pentagram of glowing light would regularly appear beneath the feet of the black cat, forming a cage made up of tendrils of like colored arcane energies all around him, sending any nearby attackers flying. Those that could, however, which proved to be the case more often than not, were quick to hop back up onto their feet and re-enter the fray. Say what you will about religious fanatics, they weren't quitters.

Even compared to Seraphim, he was swift moving, both pouncing as a shapeless dark void and regularly teleporting about the battlefield, never remaining in the same place for more than a second, but whenever the black cat moved to, there were always more cultists ready to resume their assault.

"There... there is a spot behind the ear..." I panted. The journey, well the first portion of it, at least, before my capture, did much to build up my stamina and help me adapt to walking long distances, but I was still a rather poor sprinter. "Midnight... controlled. Break it..." Was all that I could manage to get out.

Fortunately, Sellas had seemed to get the gist of my message. "That strange disk device you mean?" She asked.. I nodded in return, "I see. I fail to see how we can get to it, however."

My heart sank as I looked around and realized that she was correct. There were no explosives or even any archers around. Expecting a mouse swinging a sword or a club to land a direct blow behind the ear of a creature like that, basically a pit of black darting across the battlefield? That weak point might as well have been on the moon.

"Don't worry. We'll manage." The priestess smiled, seeing my disheartened state. "We have the Starman on our side. This beast is a triviality in comparison."

I nodded once more, not really agreeing, but what else could I do? "So, is that it, then?" I sighed, "Is there nothing else I can do?"

Sellas shook her head. "Probably not. That's just how life goes, though. No matter how hard you try, no matter how badly you may want it, you can't move mountains. Accepting this, accepting your limitations is an important part of being a proper mouse." She paused, smiling softly, "Although I can't deny that wishing that you could do more, no matter how much you have already done is just as much a part of being one, if not more so. Now, you should run along. We all have our jobs to do, and dying here certainly isn't yours."

"It's not yours either." I grumbled, looking out to the battlefield, wincing as I see a cultist scream as three dark claws tear through their body.

"Oh, I can assure you, I don't need you to tell me that." she smiled.

And so I left, running off towards my final target, despite not having gotten enough time to really even catch my breath. I had to, however. Every single extra second that I waited could be, likely would be more lives lost. That wasn't to say that my presence could necessarily save them, it was quite unlikely, in fact, but I had to try.

Back at the battle, Midnight was actually finding himself rather pressed, having difficulty in dealing with such a large number of targets at once. The weapons of the cultists might have done little damage, but little is not the same as none, and seeing as how he was constantly struck from all sides, it steadily accumulated. Unfortunately, fighting all out from the beginning wasn't really Midnight's style, and even mind-control couldn't change that. He had felt out his opponents for long enough, and was now ready to move in for the kill. Once more his body had transformed into dark smoke, only this time it continued to expand, growing ever wider, ever thicker, until it encompassed the entire world. Well, not really, of course, but it might as well have, so far as Sellas and her followers were concerned.

There was no earth or sky, just a sea of pitch black. They could see one another, or at least pale outlines of one another, but that was all. There was no noise to be heard from the other fights going on, no wind, no sounds, not even any signs of the dark lord. Just a cold emptiness. All of the cultists looked around, terrified. One fell forward with a scream and a splash of blood, blinking out of existence. Then another. And another.

"Don't panic! Stay calm!" Sellas called to her followers, and while that might not sound like the most helpful of advice, it certainly helped them to bear the situation. "This foe is not invincible! We shall overcome it!"

Even as she said this, however, she tensed. She looked down at her own paw, the glowing mace within it, only to see that it was now tinted with a pale, green light. She could sense those malicious yet empty green eyes on her back, knowing full well that those lethal claws were sure to follow.

<3~

The massive, grey furred form slowly walked forward. From all sides it was repeatedly pelted with small, explosive devices. Weapons of the enemy, expertly launched by the talons of the flock. Not to undermine the more than impressive efforts of the pitchers and batters, of course, but these were no simple stones. These were tools of war, designed with the express purposes of ending lives. Instead, they were doing nothing beyond slightly dirtying the already unclean fur with their smoke.

Then there was Tanzra and Augustus. The small cat essentially ran circles around the larger one, evading every sweep of the heavy paws, seemingly without instruction from his rider. The mouse atop his back took every possible opportunity to counter attack, stabbing her metal spear upwards whenever she saw an opening (and there were no shortage from the largely unguarded creature). As much as I would have loved to claim that the spear was digging deeply into the flesh and leaving even small wounds relative to the size of the creature, that would have, of course, been a lie. Still, she wasn't giving up, nor were the flock, even though it was clear that they each only carried a finite amount of ammunition.

The explosives weren't exactly precision devices, or the most reliable, in spite of the skill of the birds. Often they would explode on impact with the flesh, sometimes they would bounce off, not bursting until a few seconds after they hit the ground, and occasionally they wouldn't ignite at all. Even the direct hits to vital spots seemed to do nothing to even attract the attention of the dark lord, however.

"My love!" A bird called, fluttering down to me as I approached, exhausted. I never tired of hearing that title from the birds, but sadly, I had no time to appreciate their company at present. "This place is dangerous! You need to get away!"

"Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot, lately." I tried to say, but no words came out. My lungs were burning from my exertions, and my head spinning. At that moment, I really wished that I had gotten more exercise before today. Perhaps I should have joined in on the training exercises that the cultists had partaken in? My efforts to communicate the more urgent message didn't go any better, however. Fortunately, they didn't need to. The bird stared into my own eyes with its big, beady ones, silently before finally nodding it's puffy, rounded head.

"We see. A small metal dish behind the ear that is being used to control him. If we can destroy that machine, we might be able to stop him." It said. I could only stare in surprise at the fact that it could read my intentions so specifically. I couldn't help but smile a little as I nodded in confirmation.

The bird froze, its eyes going fully dark for a moment before it, too nodded. "Done. The information has been passed on."

"Really? That was quick..." I panted, as the bird looked back with a confused expression, "Um, anyways... good! It's a pretty small target, but you should be able to damage it."

"It would certainly be nice to have a target that we can actually damage." It said in a monotone voice which still, somehow effectively expressed its annoyance. I was relieved to look around and see no signs of fallen birds. After encountering the players, I had feared the worst, but while obviously very powerful and ridiculously sturdy, this beast seemed to lack both speed and ranged options. The first, especially. Don't get me wrong, I would have certainly hated to face it in a foot-race, but it couldn't even come close to keeping up with the birds which could swoop in from any direction, drop their payload and dart away within the blink of an eye.

The annoyance faded, however, as the bird smiled, its eyes gleaming. "I still have one of these... what are they called again? Grenades?" it asked. I nodded in response, "I still have one grenade left. I will have to make it count."

The bird flew off without warning, before I could even tell it to be careful. I'm not certain that it was the same member of the flock who I was previously... engaged with. In fact, I'm almost certain that it wasn't, but this still sounded awfully dangerous to me. My assessment wasn't wrong, either. It made a dash straight for the face of the huge, grey cat, stopping mid-air, in an impressive display, only to swerve around to the back of its head, clearly searching for the target. That's when I realized that I had no idea if the transmitter would be on the same place for each of the dark lords, as I was too far away to tell. I could only hope that information was accurate. I knew that it needed to be somewhere high up, and it just made sense that a mind control device would need to be as close to the head as possible.

It must have been right. While the other birds acted as a diversion, it dove right in where I had expected, tossing the bomb directly into the back of the right ear. There, it thudded in place, and bounced away, down its forehead, right in front of the blank silver eye of Fury, where it finally decided to explode. It didn't appear to do much damage, and I suspect that the bright flash directly in the eye was more painful than the actual force of the blast. Either way, it clearly wasn't pleasant. The large creature tensed up, squeezed its eyes shut, tossed back its head and roared, not just the strangely forceful hum from before that had reverberated through your very bones and was as powerful as a deadly storm. This was loud and echoing, the space around it visibly rippling and distorting, expanding outwards. Rather than a steadily growing intensity, it was, instead, a sheer wall of force.

Both Augustus and Tanzra stopped dead, the mouse covering her ears, barely able to see as a massive paw swept down towards them. It didn't hit directly, thankfully, as even if Augustus was a dark lord himself, I had little doubt that the small cat would have been squashed flat, but the very earth still shook from the impact, even if it were just an angry flailing rather than a true, directed strike. The mouse, despite her best efforts to hold on tight, was thrown clear from the back of the cat, and sent tumbling away. The same thing largely happened to the birds. At least the lucky ones.

Most of the members of the flock nearby (there were still plenty of others scattered across the battlefield, peppering the enemy forces with their bombs) were thankfully low on their supplies of ammunition, as the sudden, intense pressure caused nearly all of the carried grenades to detonate. Some had dropped theirs due to the initial wave of force from the roar, others had long since run out. Others suffered only minimal damage, as the explosive charges had varied dramatically from bomb to bomb. As for the unluckier ones? They were enveloped by the explosions of their own weapons, and most died before they hit the ground. Even some that were unburned were slammed to the ground by the sheer force of the roar, which was a serious problem for such delicate creatures.

The noise subsided and the battle appeared to be over. The skies were largely cleared, aside from the still rising smoke from countless sources. Not all of them had died or been seriously injured, not even most, but even those that stayed to the air had made their escape, knowing full well that there was nothing else that they could do. They had to cut their losses.

Tanzra groaned, using the butt of her spear to regain her footing. While bloodied and battered, she didn't appear to be seriously injured. As for Augustus, he didn't appear to be harmed at all. He sat, smiling, looking up at the huge, grey furred face of Fury who similarly looked down at him with a completely blank expression. The orange cat closed its irregular eyes and meowed loudly, tail wagging behind it.

For a moment Fury did nothing. Perhaps when faced with another of its kind (not that I considered the kind-hearted Augustus to be similar in any way to the famed tyrant), the control had been broken, or at least weakened? That was the short-lived hope, at least, until a raised paw struck the poor, small cat in the side, and sent it flying. That wasn't really an exaggeration, either. The distance that he was launched couldn't even be described in mouse lengths, as he bounced across the ground and finally impacted with the corner of a distant Makers shrine. If only it were just an impact. He had broken straight through it, leaving the entire structure to crumble down upon his head.

"A-Augustus..." Tanzra said, eyes wide, looking to the wreckage in the distance before gritting her teeth and glaring at Fury. "How... how dare you... how dare you! Rrraaggh!"

She charged, spear in hand, her own eyes crazed, those of the dark lord still completely oblivious. The massive beast made another sweep of its paw, but the nimble mouse leapt atop it, and jumped up onto the broad face of the cat. Even in its brain-dead state, it seemed surprised as the point of the spear rained down again and again against his face and eyes, as it stumbled backwards, tossing its head, trying to throw the attacker off. Of course, Tanzra had an excellent sense of balance from riding Augustus for so long, and effortlessly maintained her grip with her feet.

I repeatedly tried to shout out to her, to tell her about the spot at the back of his ear, but it did no good. Even putting the background noise aside, she was beyond a state where she could even comprehend words, completely consumed by rage and violence. There was nothing that I could do here, and I had seen enough. All I could do is move on. I wasn't sure where, I just knew that I had seen enough, and had no desire to witness what was sure to come.

While right up in the face of the surprised dark lord, she wasn't really in a good position to strike at that vulnerable point, even if she had known about it. Even if she cared about it. The tattered ear of Fury was folded back, covering it. The repeated attacks did no real damage, even those that struck the eyes of the dark lord doing nothing, but the intensity was enough to throw the creature off of its guard, forcing it to backpedal and try to awkwardly swat at its own face to knock away the unwanted guest. Cat paws aren't nearly as dexterous as mouse ones, though, and Tanzra was beyond determined.

It was only a matter of time, however. Eventually it managed to reach up at just the right angle, grab the desperately struggling mouse in its toes, raise the paw up and slam it down into the ground with enough force to make the nearby earth quake. When the dust settled, the scavenger was left lying within a deep crater, half buried and barely conscious.

"Au...gus... tus..." her voice cracked as she raised a shaking paw towards the ruined shrine in the distance, presumably the grave of her closest friend.