Darkness

Fraihn gasped for breath, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as he lay sprawled in the dirt, his body shaking from the shock. The gaping wound in his side oozed relentlessly, blood soaking through his uniform and pooling beneath him in a sticky, widening puddle. The dirt was turning to mud beneath him, wet with blood his own and that of others. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he could still make out the glow of the burning truck. 

No medics came. No help. Only Ivan knelt beside him, his face pale and grim, hands shaking as he pressed a filthy cloth over Fraihn's wound. His fingers were stained red, slick with blood that kept seeping through the fabric. Fraihn's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a fresh spike of pain. He could feel the life draining from him with every passing second, but still, he refused to let the darkness take him. His voice, though weak, he still commanded.

"Hold the line!" He rasped, his words barely louder than the agonized moans around him. His lips trembled as he forced himself to speak, fighting against the overwhelming fatigue that was pulling him under. "Don't let them… break through."

The bullets tore through the air, some so close Fraihn could feel the hot wind of them as they whizzed past. Screams rang out, shrill and piercing, from soldiers falling all around him, their bodies torn apart by the relentless barrage. One man staggered near him, clutching at his throat where blood gushed in between his fingers. His eyes were wide, wild with fear, and then he collapsed, face-first into the dirt, his legs still twitching long after his body stilled.

Every flash of light illuminated the nightmare around him, limbs scattered like broken toys, blood-soaked ground, and the mangled remains of men who had been alive only moments before.

Ivan's hands slipped on Fraihn's wound, the cloth now soaked through and useless.

 "Captain, you're… you're not going to make it if we don't—" His voice cracked, panic seeping into his words, but Fraihn cut him.

"Ivan… stay focused," Fraihn hissed, his teeth grinding together as another wave of agony surged through him. "We can't… lose this position."

Fraihn coughed, and this time, blood sprayed from his lips, hot and thick. His vision darkened further, the edges closing in, but still, he held on. He could hear the footsteps closer now of enemy soldiers moving, closer to breaking through their defenses.

"Ivan… rifle…" Fraihn croaked, his hand weakly reaching for a weapon he knew he could barely lift. Ivan hesitated, looking down at Fraihn as if he couldn't bear to let him go, but then he passed him the rifle, the cold steel slick with blood. Fraihn's fingers wrapped around it, trembling, his strength fading fast.

"Hold them…" Fraihn whispered, his voice barely audible now. His grip tightened, though, just enough to pull the trigger as an enemy soldier appeared in his sights. The shot cracked through the night, and the man fell, his body jerking violently before collapsing into the dirt with a thud. Fraihn allowed himself a grim smile, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Suddenly, the battlefield fell eerily silent. The once-deafening exchange of gunfire ceased. No shots came from the enemy's side, nothing but Fraihn's own troops firing wildly into the darkness, as if they were shooting at ghosts. The night was still, but in that unnatural quiet, something sinister lurked just beyond sight.

And then it came.

A low, rumbling roar echoed from the far end of the field, growing louder with each second until it shook the very ground beneath them. Fraihn's heart pounded painfully in his chest as his eyes widened in horror. He knew that sound the unmistakable growl of an engine too massive to belong to anything ordinary. The realization hit him like a blow to the gut.

It was the worst possible thing.

Out of the smoke and shadows loomed a monstrous silhouette, its thick, armored body illuminated by the faint glow of the burning wreckage. It was the Iron Beast, the K76 prototype the first tank Fraihn had ever seen. The massive machine crawled forward, its steel treads grinding over the earth with a sickening rumble, tearing through the underbrush like it was nothing. Then it fired its first shot.

The ground exploded in front of Fraihn, dirt and debris raining down on him and Ivan, who barely managed to duck in time. Fraihn's ears rang from the blast, and the impact sent a wave of heat and pressure that rattled his bones. The tank's machine gun came alive next, spitting bullets in a brutal, endless stream that tore through the woods where his men were entrenched. The trees around them splintered into shards, and the terrified screams of soldiers filled the air as they scrambled for cover.

Fraihn's men were trembling, paralyzed by the sight of the behemoth inching closer. It was an unstoppable juggernaut, a beast of war designed to crush everything in its path. Fraihn's mind raced, trying to make sense of it. This tank, this prototype, it shouldn't even be here. Only a few of them existed, still in experimental stages. How could one have shown up?

But then he saw the second one.

Out of the smoke came another K76, roaring up from the rear, its hulking form silhouetted against the night sky. Its cannon fired, and the explosion was even closer this time, tearing through their position with terrifying precision. Fraihn watched in helpless horror as his men were mowed down by the relentless spray of machine gun fire, their bodies ripped apart in the blink of an eye.

"That's impossible," Fraihn thought, his pulse racing as panic set in. He tried to push himself up, but his body screamed in protest, the blood loss leaving him too weak to move. His vision blurred again, but he could still see the iron behemoths advancing, their thick armor impervious to the desperate fire his troops were sending their way. Bullets bounced harmlessly off the tanks' steel plating.

The K76s were moving closer, their treads grinding over the bodies of the fallen, crushing everything beneath them as they advanced toward Fraihn's position. The battlefield that had been alive with chaos only moments before was now nothing but a slaughterhouse.

The first soldier went down screaming as the tank's cannon fired again, a thunderous blast that obliterated the man where he stood. One second, he was there firing his rifle and the next, he was gone, his body ripped to shreds, nothing but a smear of blood and limbs scattered in all directions. The ground shook, chunks of flesh and bone raining down, splattering onto those nearby. Fraihn's men, now panicked, fired wildly, their shots hopelessly pinging off the thick armor, as useless as pebbles against a mountain.

Another roar, and the second tank unleashed its machine gun. One soldier's head snapped back as a bullet tore through his skull, the back of his head exploding in a gruesome spray of blood and brain matter.

The tanks pressed forward, grinding over the corpses of the fallen, their tracks crushing bones with sickening crunches. The treads dragged what was left of the soldiers through the mud, limbs twisted and mangled, bodies flattened into unrecognizable heaps of gore.

And then, the flamethrowers came.

With a hiss and a roar, the tanks unleashed jets of fire from their sides, blazing arcs of flame that swept across the battlefield. The flames caught several soldiers before they could flee, engulfing them in an instant. Fraihn heard their screams, those high-pitched, soul-piercing screams echoing through the night. One man stumbled forward, his entire body consumed by fire. His arms flailed wildly, skin blistering and peeling away as the flames ate him alive. His face twisted into an expression of pure agony, his mouth open in a silent scream as the fire charred his flesh, turning him into a blackened, smoking husk before he collapsed into the mud, still burning.

Another soldier, trying to run, was caught mid-sprint by the blast of a flamethrower. The fire wrapped around him like a living thing, searing through his uniform and biting into his skin. He dropped to the ground, rolling frantically in a desperate attempt to put out the flames, but it was no use. The fire clung to him, hungrily devouring his flesh, his screams now nothing but hoarse gasps. 

The battlefield was a nightmare of blood and fire, the very earth soaked with death. Flames licked at the edges of the woods where Fraihn's remaining troops cowered in terror, their eyes wide with disbelief, their minds unable to process the sheer brutality before them. The tanks continued their advance, unstoppable engines of destruction, their machine guns still spitting death into the night, the flamethrowers casting everything in an infernal glow.

Fraihn lay helpless, his vision growing darker with each passing moment. He could feel the heat from the flamethrowers even from where he lay, the distant screams of his burning soldiers, the last sound he heard before the world turned black.

"I need... the order!" Ivan's voice cracked through the chaos, desperately shouting above the gunfire and the mechanical roar of the Iron Beasts. His hands were shaking as he pressed a cloth harder into Fraihn's wound, but it was no use. Ivan shook Fraihn, trying to keep him conscious, but Fraihn's eyes were fluttering shut, his body weakening, consumed by darkness.

"Commander! You have to stay awake!" Ivan shouted, his face smeared with dirt and blood, both his own and Fraihn's. He could hear the screams of the dying all around them, the brutal grinding of the tanks as they tore through what remained of their troops. Men were being butchered, ripped apart by bullets, crushed beneath treads, and engulfed in flames. 

Fraihn fought to stay conscious, his vision blurring, his head spinning. His body screamed for him to let go, to give in to the pain and exhaustion, but he couldn't. Not yet. His mind was clouded, each breath more difficult than the last. Ivan was shaking him again, yelling something, but the words sounded distant, muffled. He felt his consciousness slipping further and further away, his eyelids too heavy to keep open.

Then, with a final surge of effort, Fraihn's trembling hand reached for his map. His fingers were slick with blood, but he managed to pull it out, unrolling it weakly before him. He glanced up at Ivan, his voice a broken whisper.

"River... jump in the river." Fraihn rasped, his breath shallow, pointing a trembling finger at the map. His eyes, though half-closed, focused on the river that wound its way behind the burning city, just out of sight from where they were now. Ivan stared at him, confusion etched across his face, his heart pounding in his chest.

"The river? What are you talking about?" Ivan was frantic, but Fraihn gripped his arm tightly, pulling him close.

"The current..." Fraihn's voice was barely audible, his words slurred and weak. "It will take you... away from here. You're... the commanding officer now, Ivan." His breath hitched, blood bubbling up at the corners of his mouth. His body shuddered violently, but still, he pressed on. "Give them... a chance to live." he muttered, his voice fading, his grip loosening as more blood seeped from his wound. Too much blood.

Ivan's throat tightened, tears burning the edges of his vision. He knelt beside Fraihn, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he held the dying man. The tanks were closer now, the flames and the screams overwhelming, but Ivan couldn't bring himself to leave Fraihn behind.

"Commander, no—" Ivan's voice broke, his body trembling as he cradled Fraihn, but Fraihn's eyes had already closed. His breathing was shallow, his chest barely rising and falling.

Ivan knew there was no time left. He had to go, or they would all be slaughtered. With trembling hands, Ivan fumbled with the syringe from his kit and plunged it into Fraihn's arm, a desperate attempt to give him a few more moments of life. 

"I'm sorry..." Ivan whispered, tears streaming down his face as he pressed the needle in, watching Fraihn's breathing steady if only for a few seconds.

Ivan stood, his body screaming with fatigue and terror, but he couldn't stop. He grabbed his rifle, turning to the remaining soldiers around him, their faces pale and terrified.

"Retreat! Fall back to the riverbanks!"

Chaos erupted as the order was given. Soldiers scrambled, some half-crawling, others sprinting through the fallen as the tanks continued their relentless advance. Ivan ran through the confusion, grabbing anyone he could, pushing them toward the riverbanks. His heart hammered in his chest, each step a struggle as bullets whizzed past, and the flames roared closer.

The river's only hope of escape was just beyond the city. 

Fraihn leaned back against the rough bark of a fallen tree, his chest rising and falling in ragged, painful breaths. His body was a mess of blood and grime, his skin sticky with sweat and gore. His hand trembled as it gripped his rifle, its weight the only thing keeping him upright. In the distance, he could see Ivan and the remaining soldiers retreating toward the city gates, their forms shrinking against the vastness of the burning battlefield. His vision blurred, but he knew they were running for their lives.

He tilted his head toward the field, his neck stiff with pain. Hundreds of enemy soldiers swarmed around the Iron Beasts, their dark silhouettes shifting in the flickering light of the fires. Fraihn could hear their shouts, the clatter of their boots on the earth, the grinding of the Iron Beasts' treads as they advanced, ready to slaughter every last soul in the city.

He could barely breathe. Each gasp was shallow, wet, his lungs struggling to keep up with the demands of his failing body. His body screamed in agony, every inch of him battered and broken, but he forced himself to stand. His knees wobbled, and he leaned heavily on his rifle, its butt digging into the dirt as he struggled to stay upright. He was alone. 

Shots rang out. Bullets zipped past him, some hitting the ground with a dull thud, others splintering the trees around him. The Iron Beast fired again, its massive cannon roaring as it launched shells into the city, the explosions lighting up the sky like hellfire. Fraihn's vision swam, the world reduced to silhouettes and shadows, but he could see enemy soldiers moving in a swarm, the Iron Beasts rolling forward like juggernauts.

He stood there, swaying on his feet, but his mind was sharp. He knew what had to be done, even if it killed him.

"System... Earth Manipulation," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. And taking out a God Crystal which he grabbed from the dead Major.

A sudden, chilling alert flashed across his vision.

[System Alert: Blood Loss Critical]

[System Alert: Heart Rate Critical]

[System Alert: Organ Failure Imminent]

"Activate it..." He forced out through gritted teeth.

[System Activating: Earth Manipulation]

Summoning the last of his strength, Fraihn slammed his hand into the blood-soaked ground beneath him. A tremor ran through the earth, the vibrations climbing up his arm like a serpent, filling his body with a surge of raw power. The ground around him rumbled and cracked, shifting beneath the feet of the enemy soldiers. He grunted, his muscles screaming in protest, but he pushed harder.

The earth beneath the Iron Beasts erupted. Like a giant fist, it surged up and flipped them onto their sides. Their steel frames groaned under the force, the sound of metal tearing as they hit the ground with a thunderous crash. The soldiers surrounding them were thrown into chaos, some crushed beneath the weight of their own machines, others flung into the air as the ground heaved and bucked beneath them.

Blood sprayed across the battlefield. Men screamed as they were ripped apart by the shifting earth, their bodies twisted and broken. Some were swallowed by the ground itself, buried alive as the soil rose up and choked them, their screams muffled as they were dragged beneath the surface.

One of the Iron Beasts detonated in a massive fireball, the explosion lighting up the field in a blinding flash. The shockwave sent debris flying, and the stench of burning flesh and oil filled the night. Fraihn looked up, his vision hazy, the searing light blinding him for a moment. His body swayed, the exhaustion crushing him, but before he could steady himself, pain tore through his abdomen.

A shot rang out, and Fraihn felt a white-hot lance of agony as a bullet tore into his stomach. He gasped, his body buckling as the pain overwhelmed him. Blood poured from the wound, joining the pool already at his feet. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, his vision going dark as he clutched his stomach in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

In the distance, Ivan and the survivors scrambled to the river. They had built makeshift rafts from whatever they could find doors, barrels, anything that would float. In the chaos, they jumped into the water, the current taking them away from the battlefield, away from the horrors that still raged behind them.

Fraihn body was failing, the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision. He tilted his head back, looking up at the smoke-filled sky, his chest heaving with labored breaths. 

And then, everything went black.