HISS—HISS—
Tooth-aching corrosion sounds filled my ears. No longer rain, but the hiss of thousands of vipers.
I hid behind a partially melted cover, watching helplessly as my proud concrete defense line bubbled, peeled, and softened in the green venom. The originally iron-hard bastion now looked like a block of Cheddar Cheese microwaved too long.
"pH levels are bottoming out."
I glanced at the system panel; red warning boxes popped up like viruses on an old PC.
I roared into the brass mouthpiece of the acoustic pipe, "Even concentrated sulfuric acid can't eat through concrete in ten seconds! What did these cultists put in the rain? Xenomorph blood?"
"Whatever they added, we can't hold much longer!"
"Alex... the wounded... there are too many..."
Ela’s voice crackled back through the steel tube, faint and ragged. She had rushed to the makeshift medical station the moment the beams were anchored, and even through the pipe, I could hear the agonizing groans of the wounded behind her.
"The acid... it’s not just eating the stone," she gasped, her voice thick with exhaustion. "It’s burning through their armor... through their skin... I can’t stop the necrosis fast enough!"
I looked back at the temporary medical point. It had become a waiting room for hell.
Dozens of Cat and Bear warriors lay wailing in the mud. Their fur burned through by acid rain, skin covered in black chemical burns. Ela knelt beside a young wounded, hands emitting a faint healing light.
But the light was too dim, like a candle about to go out in the wind.
"Hold on..." Ela was pale, sweat mixing with toxic rain. "Just excise the necrotic tissue..."
THUD.
Before finishing, the priestess who had been overdrawing her life force to maintain the team's HP collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
"Ela!"
I rushed over, pressing my fingers to her carotid artery. Pulse weak as a hibernating squirrel.
"Damn it."
I dragged her to cover.
Healing was cut off.
Walls were melting.
I looked up sharply, ignoring the corrosive acid mist, locking dead onto the totem poles emitting eerie green light behind the battlefield through my mono-telescope.
"Brad!" I shouted down the brass pipe. "See those pillars like glow sticks?"
"See them!" Brad's voice was mixed with the panting of metal impact. "Those things are too bright to miss!"
"Those are Acid Rain towers." I quickly calculated distance and risk. "Those are magic constructs. If we destroy them, this damn rain stops. But..."
"But it's outside." Brad took over. "And surrounded by those wolf pups."
Silence.
Only the hiss of acid corroding stone.
"Hey, Alex." Brad suddenly laughed, a laugh full of reassuring recklessness. "Remember the State Finals in college? Ten seconds left, down by five, ball in my hand."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"I remember." I pushed up my glasses. "You threw a sixty-yard long pass. That was a miracle."
"No, that wasn't a miracle."
In my vision, Brad stood up from behind cover. He threw away the tower shield already riddled with holes, gripping the two-handed greatsword with both hands.
"That was a Hail Mary Pass."
"Bjorn! Still alive?" Brad roared at the Bear formation behind him.
"I can still move!" Bjorn stood up, covered in blood, but eyes still fierce.
"Take your brothers, follow me!" Brad shook his wet blond hair. "We're going to smash those damn glow sticks!"
"Alex! OPEN THE GATE!!!"
As I gritted my teeth and pressed the button, the rickety side door of Bastion Alpha slammed open.
Brad took the lead, rushing into the green rain curtain like a golden cannonball. He activated [Savage Charge], knocking two blocking Wargs flying instantly.
Behind him, twenty Ursine suicide squad members roared and followed. They formed a classic Wedge Formation, like a sharp knife, tearing a hole in the dense wolf pack.
"Stop them!"
Through the telescope, I saw Wolf Shamans screaming in panic, directing guards to defend.
Too late.
Brad had reached the first totem pole. Facing two tall Wolf guards, he didn't swing his sword. Instead, like a Linebacker, he lowered his shoulder, smashing one guard into the mud, then using the momentum to swing the greatsword viciously at the totem pole.
CRACK!
The fragile bone totem snapped under the kinetic energy of the heavy sword.
In that instant, the green clouds in the sky seemed to convulse, and the dense acid rain thinned by a third.
"Effective! It's physical!" I shouted from the wall. "Keep going! Four more!"
"Easy!"
Brad wiped blood from his face and charged toward the second one.
The Wolf pack went mad. Countless claws and fangs pounced on this lone army. Ursine warriors fell one by one, paving the way for Brad with their bodies. Bjorn wielded his warhammer like a windmill, protecting Brad's back until a spear pierced his thigh.
"Go! Leave me!" Bjorn knelt, smashing a werewolf's knee with his hammer.
Brad didn't look back. He rushed to the last totem pole.
By now, his armor was shattered, with at least five bone-deep wounds on his body. But he was like a tireless machine, jumping high, pouring his final rage into the blade.
BOOM—!!!
The last totem pole exploded.
The green vortex in the sky collapsed instantly. The deadly acid rain finally stopped, and the long-lost cold wind blew away the poison mist.
"Success..."
Sporadic cheers erupted on the wall.
But the cheers lasted only a second.
Because without the acid rain cover, I saw the red Siege Beast (Berserk Form), which had been waiting, finally found a target.
It didn't hit the wall. In its simple brain, these bugs that just destroyed the totems obviously had higher aggro.
It lowered its massive head, single horn aimed at Brad's back.
"Brad! Run! Retreat!"
I screamed down the pipe.
Brad turned around.
He looked at the Ursine brothers desperately dragging the wounded back through the side door, then at the giant beast preparing to charge.
If he didn't block it, the wounded couldn't return.
If he didn't block it, the newly repaired side door would be smashed.
Brad panted heavily.
"ALEX!"
His voice boomed across the muddy battlefield, carrying a trace of his usual cynical smile. "Looks like this time... I'm going into Overtime."
"Don't do anything stupid! Come back!" I screamed down the pipe, hoping he could hear the echo from the gate's funnel.
"I used to be a Quarterback, but today... I am the Goal Line." Brad grinned, despite the blood in his mouth. "Take care of those bear kids for me. And... even if I'm gone, don't let this wall fall."
He didn't run towards the gate.
He turned, alone, facing the Ten-ton beast charging at him.
He picked up the half-shattered tower shield, planted his sword deep in the mud for support, and assumed an Absolute Defense stance.
"Come on! You horned can of beef!"
Brad let out one last roar:
"YOU—SHALL—NOT—PASS!!!"
BOOM!!!!
Collision.
Dust rose, covering everything.
Brad Miller, Number 55, just made the play of his life.
Question of the Day: Did he survive?
(Click to guess his fate)
?? A) Plot Armor activated.
Result: The Protagonist Shield. We hope so. But this isn't a fairy tale, and the System doesn't sell "Extra Lives." Keep your fingers crossed. Hope: Critical.
?? B) He's gone (RIP).
Result: The Touchdown. He spiked the ball in the endzone, but the celebration cost everything. Press 'F' to pay respects. Legend Status: Confirmed.
?? C) He is now part of the wall.
Result: The Foundation. "Part of the ship, part of the crew." If he didn't make it, his spirit is holding up the North Rampart now. Legacy: Cemented.
Follow and Rate. The aftermath... and the rage.