The roar of combat, the screams of the wounded and garbled orders of command, crashing of weapons fire and the almost delicate rattle of falling cases, crunching of debris and shattered armour. The smell of blood, excrement and burnt gunpowder. The flickering and dancing light of burning wreckage, sudden sharp and fearful movements of combatants, the utter stillness of the dead, and shuddering of the almost dead. The feel of the armour surrounding and protective, the heavy weight of the weapon, the stinking sharp sweat in the eyes.

All this and more filled the senses of Sergeant Jonathon Blackgate, 14th Mobile Infantry of SLA Industries, until he could almost forget the heavy beat of time on his brain. They didn’t have long. Not long at all before…. The end.

Both he and the remainders of his squad cast fearful glances at the huge edifice towering above them, waiting and, dreading the time the occupants came out to end the conflict and enslave the survivors. It had happened before and Jonathon knew it would happen again.

The distraction nearly cost him dearly as a semi-squad of Thresher appeared before him and opened fire on the remaining SLA warriors. Only the quick eyes the sniper noticed them early enough to give a warning and allow effective counter-fire to be brought to bear. Even then it was close.

After a short and brutal fire fight casualties were counted and the wounded dealt with. Jonathon cast a weary eye over his squad and sighed. Only four of them remained, and they had no idea of how many yet remained of the Thresher forces. He sighed and pushed the thought aside. It would be enough, it had to be. Carl Bern, the squad sniper, had survived as had troopers James Reynolds and Arnold Smyth. “Okay guys. Not long left before the end. It’s down to us so let’s give them the good-old Downtown welcome.” Tired grins were passed about the demi-squad went out into the dead lands and whoever remained of the Thresher forces.

Joshua Howe was almost in tears. His forces were decimated; the SLA forces had just chewed through everything he’d flung at them. And he had no idea how many yet remained. And time was getting ever so much shorter. Taking deep breaths Joshua settled his nerves and locked his helmet back down before glancing at his squad mate, Mark Went. Mark shrugged and spoke. “This it?” Joshua nodded. And nothing else was needed to be said. The pair hefted their weapons and advanced out into the open, hoping that they could kill enough of the enemy before being killed in turn.

Both sides saw each other at the same time, and attacked simultaneously. Joshua or Mark quickly killed both James and Arnold, before Carl killed Mark and was killed in turn. Then there were just Joshua and Jonathon. Thresher and SLA Industries. Jonathon was tired and down to his last clip of ammunition, but his armour whole. Joshua was in better shape physically, but that was all. He had less ammunition and his armour was in bad shape. Both warriors were about even.

They stared at each other silently for a minute before lifting their weapons and going for one final battle, both hoping they would kill the other without getting killed in turn. Just as both warriors tightened their fingers on their respective triggers, it was too late.

Giant doors in the edifice near them opened and towering beings strode out to the sounds of a high-pitched whistle. All around the two warriors the dead rose with a groan and a booming voice spoke; “Playtime is over. Back to your class rooms.”

The two young boys groaned and joined their classmates, plastic weapons and masks dangling limply from hands. Maybe next time they would finish it before the teachers called them back in.