As my mech shuddered under the weight of the ghouls, I frantically tried to shake them off. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized that every move that I made only seemed to encourage their relentless assault. The groans, grunts, and stench of the undead creatures filled the cockpit, drowning out the sound of my mech’s movement.

"Get off me!" I screamed, triggering magic missiles at any ghoul that I could manage to target. But it was no use; the ghouls were everywhere, crawling over the metal surface like insects infesting a rotting corpse. My viewports were being blocked by undead flesh and I could no longer spot any of the new arrivals before they got too close to engage. Clawed hands ripped at the seams and joints of my mech, searching for any vulnerability, any way to get at the warm flesh inside.

"I hope that the infantry hurry it up," I muttered, my voice was barely a whisper, choked by fear and desperation. I had been through too much for my summoning to end here, right on the doorstep of the necromancer.

The sound of tortured metal bending drew my attention, and I knew that I had only moments before they would reach me. My thoughts raced with the images of what these monsters had done to Flunzzlebump. Would I face the same fate, torn apart piece by piece as each ghoul reached in for a slice of Rico?

"Focus, Rico," I told myself, the words barely audible even in my own head. "You're not out of this fight yet."

Taking a chance, I purposefully collapsed the mech onto its side and began to roll. It wasn’t a maneuver that I’d practiced, and my efforts weren’t exactly smooth, but it was doing the trick. I heard the sickening sound of undead flesh being crushed, but after a couple rolls, my mech slammed into something hard, probably a part of the rubble, and I couldn’t move.

Try as I might, I could not get the mech to right itself and my momentary respite from the ghouls expired as they swarmed over the mech once more. Before the viewports were covered by undead bodies once more, I was able pick off a few more using the magic missile launcher. Despite my effort, and the casualties I’d inflicted, I was trapped inside what would quickly become a mechanical tomb.

"Is this really how this summoning ends?" I wondered as I struggled to regain control over my mech.

The ghouls continued their relentless assault, their efforts finally opening small gaps in the armor. Undead hands snaked through a gap in the cockpit seal, their nails mere inches away from my skin. I could feel them getting closer, smell their rotting breath, hear their eager moans as they prepared to feast on my living flesh.

"Sorry Fitzfazzle, I wish I could have done more,” I whispered, closing my eyes in anticipation of the end. But just as I resigned myself to this being the end of my extended summoning, something shifted in the chaos outside my mech...

The sound of metal striking meat reverberated through the air, and I peeked through a now unobstructed viewport. Outside, the company of gnomes, armed with swords and hammers, tore into the ghouls. Hissing their hatred, the ghouls shifted focus to the infantry, the nearness of fresh prey overriding any command the necromancer might have given to focus on the mechs.

"Get away from Rico, you undead freaks!" one of the gnome soldiers roared, his voice filled with righteous fury as he swung his hammer with deadly precision, crushing the skull of a ghoul that had ignored the counterattack to make a final attempt at reaching me inside the mech.

"Rico, hold on,” another gnome called as the number of ghouls began to thin out due to their efforts. I felt a surge of hope and gratitude, but my relief was short-lived.

The ghouls seemed to have been fought to a standstill, but as their attack petered out, a fresh flood of zombies emerged from the houses around us. For every undead that the gnomish infantry dispatched, two more took its place. This battle was far from over, and the necromancer appeared to have more reserves than we had counted on.

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With most of my viewports clear, I could see that I was wedged under the angled wall of the nearest building. A team of four gnomes were hammering at the obstruction and should have it cleared in moments. As the ancient and already crumbling wall started to give way, I dropped my spear and pushed up with the arm of my mech.

After a couple of clumsy attempts, the portion of the wall I was wedged under crumbled, and my mech staggered back onto its four legs. Around me, the battlefield had erupted into chaos, the clanging of weapons and the screams of the fallen reverberated through the ruined city. Gnomes fought with fierce determination, their small statures belying their strength and skill.

Looking down the street, I could see another mech had toppled and was covered in undead as the infantry company assigned to it tried to fight their way through. I couldn’t help them yet, and instead needed to support the company of infantry that had just saved my life. The gnomes had formed a line in front of my mech and were holding back the tide, for now. I retrieved my spear and joined the fight.

Magic missile after magic missile streamed from my mech, each shot taking out one of the undead. A few ghouls were still mixed in with their lesser kin, and I tried to target them whenever I could manage it. The enemy in my immediate area no longer exhibited any intelligent direction or control and had reverted back to their instinctual aggressive behavior. Pharox’s attention must have been directed at a different spot on the battlefield.

"Stand fast, friends!" one of the human war priests shouted as he entered the fray, a squad of human soldiers protecting his advance. He must have charged forward when word of the attack against my mech had reached his position in the column. I wasn’t going to complain as the man swung his sword in wide arcs that cleaved through multiple undead with each pass. A golden glow of divine magic covered the edge of his blade as he fought.

"We shall not be overcome by these abominations!” the priest proclaimed as he reached the gnomes forming the defensive line around me.

"All MESS’s, if you're functional, try to link up with the others in the column. The necromancer is burning the last of his reserves in this attack,” Fitzfazzle’s voice crackled over the communication stone. "Just stay alive out there!"

"Trying my damnedest," I replied to myself, once again wishing the communication crystals were two-way devices.

The battle raged on, a cacophony of screams and metal clanks filling the air. The gnomish infantry, supported by the mechs and the human war priest, hacked and slashed their way through the undead horde, slowly but surely turning the tide in our favor. As the last of the ghouls and zombies surrounding my mech were cut down, the war priest approached my mech.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched deeply into his face.

"Alive, at least," I managed to reply, my voice shaky with exhaustion and adrenaline. "Thank you, all of you." I directed to the gnomes around me.

"Your gratitude is appreciated, but save it for later," the war priest, whose name I’d never gotten, said as he cast a wary glance around the battlefield. "We still have a battle to win, and the necromancer needs to pay for all that he has inflicted on our peoples."

The air inside the mech's cockpit swirled with dust of battle now that the gaps in my cockpit had been pried open a bit by the ghoulish assault. I clenched my teeth in determination as the war priest led our force down the column, using my mech and the remnants of the gnomish infantry to come to the rescue of the other companies that were still under assault.

Magic missiles continued to stream out of my launcher, and with each swing of the mech's massive spear, I could feel the sickening crunch of undead bodies shattering beneath it. The gnomish infantry fought fiercely by my side, their tiny forms darting between the legs of the mech with astonishing agility, slicing through the sea of rotting flesh that sought to consume us all.

“Keep pushing forward!" the war priest exhorted us.

As I glanced down at the battlefield below, I saw a particularly daring gnome leap onto the back of a ghoul, driving his sword deep into its spine before vaulting off to engage another foe. The scene was chaotic and brutal, the air filled with the sounds of steel hitting undead bodies, the pained cries of the wounded, and the guttural snarls of the undead.

Minutes passed as we ground down the ambushing forces. As each company was relieved, more troops joined our little counterattack as we mopped up the last pockets of the undead. As we fought together – gnomes and giant mechs alike – I could feel something shifting within me. A strange camaraderie bloomed in the heat of battle, forged in blood and shared adversity. And for perhaps the first time since the summonings had begun, I felt like I was where I truly belonged.

The ruined city stretched on before us like a jagged scar, its once-proud structures a testament to the ravages of time and battle. With the counterattack defeated, we pressed onward, ever vigilant, knowing that survival hung in the balance – and that we were all that stood between the undead hordes and the people of this land.