Chapter 88

Chapter 88:

The flames of war burned over the city of Meholla as a team of fighters observed the unfolding battle through binoculars, hidden behind a hill. A fighter with his face concealed by a scarf approached one of the observers and asked, "What's the situation?"

The man, his eyes still fixed on the battlefield, replied:

"The two sides are engaged along the 1949 Armistice Agreement Line. Israeli defenses are concentrated in the villages of Tel alBeida, Tel alShamsiya, Kardala, and Bardala. The suspected command post of the Israeli army is based in the village of Tayasir."

He continued, "The Iranian fighters are launching a massive offensive from the northeast, using armored vehicles and explosive drones. They're aiming to capture Route 90 to secure a supply line."

The fighter continued, "Any sign of anomalous groups?"

The observer responded, "No, still nothing." They both heard distant screams and saw several terrified civilians fleeing from the fighting. The observer frowned and asked, "Commander, we're in the West Bank territory—why isn't their government or army intervening? Two foreign countries are literally battling on their land in the middle of civilians, and they're doing nothing. They're not even trying to evacuate them. Why?"

The commander sighed, "It's not that they don't want to; they simply can't."

The observer looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

The commander sighed again. "You see, the West Bank is far from being a sovereign country. To be honest, any incident here could spark a rebellion or civil war. The civilian population is pro-Palestinian since they are, after all, one and the same people divided by war and politics. Even their government holds the same stance."

Observer: "So why doesn't the government take the side of its people?"

The commander sighed. "That's where things get really complicated. Even if the people are with the government, there are far too many armed groups that want to overthrow it to establish their own. Because of this, they need a powerful military to combat these groups. And with power comes the need for weapons."

Observer: "Why not just switch weapons suppliers, then?"

The commander replied, "Well, for starters, American weapons are unmatched in terms of effectiveness and quality. Then there's American diplomacy—it's simple: if you're not with them, you're against them. They might opt for a direct invasion, or they could support pro-Western rebel groups and paint them as 'heroes against oppression.' On top of that, the West Bank is surrounded by Israelis and Americans. The government is forced to turn a blind eye and stay neutral to avoid being overthrown by its own people or by foreign powers."

The observer went silent, then muttered, "Politics is a mess."

The commander replied, "Always has been."

Suddenly, they heard a loud BOOM and saw a massive explosion. The radio crackled: "Team B to Leader, we've detected traces of EVE energy near that explosion. We've spotted a humanoid emerging unscathed, attacking other thaumaturges. Judging by their attire, they belong to Yeda Zoher. The humanoid is a flying human, wreathed in flames. His skin is gray, and he was hurling devastating fire at Yeda Zoher forces."

Serano swore, "Damn it, RECORD EVERYTHING ON VIDEO AND SEND IT TO SITE COMMAND."

Serano's radio crackled to life, and replied, "Copy that. Recording everything on video and sending it straight to Site Command after."

Then, Serano raised his binoculars to observe the scene from a distance. Through the smoky haze, he saw the full brutality of the conflict unfolding before him.

In the center of the battlefield, the man with gray skin hovered several feet off the ground, flames licking around his body like living armor. His eyes gleamed with an unnatural fire, and as he extended his arms, a wave of searing heat radiated outward, distorting the air. With a fierce motion, he clenched his fists, and blazing tendrils of fire lashed out, carving arcs through the air.

The thaumaturgists, scattered in defensive formations, began chanting spells, summoning shields and magical barriers to hold back the relentless flames. Some sent bolts of energy and projectiles toward the gray-skinned figure, but they dissipated against a swirling shield of sand and heat surrounding him.

Unfazed, the gray-skinned man raised his hand and clenched his fist. Instantly, a massive sandstorm erupted, roaring across the battlefield. Blinding clouds of sand and embers swept through, tearing apart the thaumaturgists' protective shields. Visibility dropped to zero as the storm enveloped them.

A few thaumaturgists managed to throw up last-minute barriers, barely shielding themselves, but many weren't so fortunate. The sandstorm shredded through their defenses, and in the chaos, screams echoed as some were lifted and flung aside by the violent winds.

As the storm settled, only a handful of thaumaturgists remained standing, visibly shaken and exhausted. The others lay scattered, motionless amid the scorched earth. The gray-skinned man, unscathed and undeterred, floated forward, his eyes glowing as he prepared to strike again.

The last remaining thaumaturgists, visibly exhausted, stared intently at the gray-skinned man. Suddenly, one of them raised his finger skyward, and a glowing magical circle appeared at his fingertip. The other thaumaturgists quickly formed a circle around him, lifting their hands toward his outstretched finger in a synchronized motion. The circle above began to expand, growing to several dozen meters across, and slowly shaped into a colossal arrow of pure energy hovering above them.

The lead thaumaturgist lowered his finger, aiming directly at the gray-skinned man, and with a sharp motion, he directed the arrow forward. It streaked through the air with blinding speed, slamming into the gray-skinned figure. The impact detonated in a massive sphere of light, its brilliant flash illuminating the entire battlefield and blinding all who watched.

A heavy silence fell over the field, as the brightness began to fade, leaving spots dancing in everyone's vision. Then, suddenly, a colossal hand formed of sand reached out from within the dissipating light, clutching at the air. Emerging from the remnants of the explosion was a giant sand titan, towering over 100 meters, rising like an ancient god above the battlefield.

Serano, in shock, whispered, "Oh, hell…"

The sand giant, now looming like a titan over the battlefield, gazed down at the devastation below, its hollow eyes sweeping over the remnants of the thaumaturgists' forces. With a swift, imposing motion, it conjured a blazing sword and shield of flame, their searing edges crackling with raw power. With deadly precision, the giant brought the sword down on the remaining thaumaturgists, striking them down in an instant.

A tense silence settled over the battlefield, a brief and eerie calm. Then, out of nowhere, a shell tore through the air and struck the giant's chest, detonating on impact. Explosions erupted in quick succession, followed by a relentless barrage of missiles and shells from Israeli tanks positioned along the hillsides, each explosion lighting up the giant's sandy body with flashes of red and orange.

Israeli Merkava tanks roared into position, their turrets aimed skyward. American F-15 fighter jets and Apache helicopters swooped down in coordinated attacks, releasing missile after missile, the shriek of jet engines filling the air. The giant stumbled, shaking the earth with each step, but it fought back, sweeping its flaming sword and sending waves of fiery sand toward the advancing tanks. Entire squads were obliterated as the sand engulfed them, metal twisted and melted, and soldiers vanished in an instant.

With each missile impact, the giant's sand body shifted and reformed, absorbing the blows as if feeding off the energy. An M270 rocket launcher stationed on a nearby hill fired its payload, raining down rockets in a final attempt to bring it down. The explosions rattled the battlefield, but the giant barely flinched. Instead, it raised its shield, deflecting a barrage of American AGM-65 Maverick missiles, sending some spiraling back toward the assaulting forces.

More jets streaked across the sky, dropping JDAMs that detonated with a force that shook the ground and sent sand and debris flying in all directions. The sand giant, now battered and disintegrating in parts, staggered but still stood tall. Each attack seemed to chip away at its form, yet it continued its relentless march, sweeping its sword down upon another line of tanks, their metal husks exploding in a fiery crescendo.

Finally, a coordinated assault of drone-launched Hellfire missiles struck its core, ripping through the giant's midsection. It shuddered, its sandy form beginning to collapse as torrents of sand cascaded down, burying wreckage and debris beneath it. Slowly, the towering figure crumbled, disintegrating into a massive dune of sand, leaving only a cloud of dust in its wake.

As the dust began to settle, a lone figure stood amidst the ruin. The gray-skinned man, untouched, a faint smile playing on his lips, looked up at the devastation around him. He watched the smoke and flames with satisfaction, his expression unshaken. The battle had left the field a graveyard of metal and men, yet he remained unscathed, an ominous presence in the wake of the fallen titan.

The gray-skinned man opened his mouth, his voice resonating across the battlefield in English: "I am Ifrit, eigenweapon of ORIA. Today's battle is but a warning to Yeda Zoher and its American allies. I am giving you one week to surrender unconditionally. If you do not, I will destroy all of Israel and, if necessary, every American base in the Middle East. You have one week."

With that, in a whirlwind of flame, Ifrit vanished, leaving the field silent and tense.

Serano, having heard the ominous declaration, grabbed his radio and issued the order, his tone urgent: "All stations, fall back from the battlefield immediately and rendezvous at Evac Point Charlie." Switching channels, he continued, "X-13-1 to Site Command, we have a situation—one very big problem."

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Author: Sorry for the short chapters lately; I've been having connection issues and only have very short time to write. There will be longer chapters this weekend, I promise.