A squeeze, a click, a pulse of blue. One squeeze, one click, one life ended. War is a game, its just a matter of who squeezes the trigger faster, and where your muzzle is pointed when you do so. I gritted my teeth as another flash glances of to the left, taking a shoulder plate with it. I'm scared shitless, a skinny kid in a glorified armored coffin. I drag my leg forward, one step ahead, dust scattering at a heavy footfall, not my own. I feel almost detached to it all, a Paladin exploding to my side, my instinctive shot at its assailant, another down.

An ultramarine blast roars past in an electric dance of death, scattering my thoughts. Oh fucking great, scanning the horizon I notice the telltale glowing chassis of an Incube. I kicked down hard, angling up my feet, the hydraulics recognized my action, my Paladin roared up and back in a burst of nuclear powered upthrust. When you see a Baal, there's usually two possible scenarios, its either you shoot at it and you die or it shoots you and you die, either way, standing at one spot too long would mean my glorified iron coffin would earn its ghastly reputation in full. I'm nineteen, I don't fucking want to kick the bucket just yet.

Scanning my surroundings, I quickly ducked behind a raised outcrop of solid iron on the surface, which I forgot to inform you, belonged to an asteroid. Running over my fast receding options, I noted only two plausible ways out of this situation. One, shoot the damn Baal and pray scenario one of Baal logic fails and allows me to live. Two, boost the fuck out of there and hope the Baal does not undertake scenario two. No time to think too much. Fuck this shit, looking up for a final prayer, I prepared to at least die trying to defend myself. But unexpectedly, I saw scenario three.

---

I took a deep breath, moments like these are always terrifying to me. The lull before the storm, the cool before the fire, the last meal before the electric chair. I ran a check again, my eyes darting up and down, searching for any statuses I am not aware of. Obviously there are none. I felt the jerk of the drop vessel exiting the hangar, time to enter hell. The fluid flooded in from the sides, I jammed my eyes shut. I had always feared water, especially the prospect of drowning, and these fucking machines had to submerge you in it before allowing control. My face mask snapped close and the nasal tubes poked into my nose, injecting oxygen as i breath. The liquid crawled up my body, until finally, i was fully submerged within the cockpit. Oh fuck.

A gigantic, jarring surge took my body in full, it felt like someone just jabbed a thousand fucking chainsaws into every part of my body. I had refused the drugs needed for this stage, my own bloody fault basically, but refusing intoxication is indeed part of me which stands firm. The interface sync completed in under a second, it felt like a century. I opened my eyes, i looked upon darkness, illuminated only by a golden glow, from me.

I flexed my extremeties, checking for any sync errors, none, I flexed a new part of me, at my back, it responded as if it has always been there. Steeling myself for the scene soon to unfold, i prayed a final prayer. The impact happened right on time.

---

Scenario three rocketed down from the heavens, a Lance of Longinus, from outer space. Deep into the ground it buried and for a few moments lay still, almost serene. I'm saved, i sank into my seat and heaved a breath of relief. They had come. The Angels.