The Hollowed Saints hovered above the battlefield, their forms glowing faintly with corrupted light. Their hands extended, summoning weapons—a radiant sword and a long, elegant spear. Both shimmered with divine light, marred by jagged black cracks radiating unholy power.
Colonel Pierce narrowed his eyes. "Observe them. Stay sharp, but keep your distance."
"Sir, yes, sir," the team responded in unison.
The battle erupted instantly.
The Saints shot upward, dodging the opening volley with ease. They circled above like carrion birds, searching for any weakness. But the soldiers were disciplined—each covering another's blind spot, their formation fluid and pressure constant.
Pierce scanned the field, shouting, "Hold formation! Rafe, lay down suppressive fire on the spear-wielder! Elias, Mira, flank left—don't give them an opening."
One Saint sighed in annoyance. "What a hassle. This is why we tried using humans."
With a flick of his arm, the spear-wielding Saint hurled his weapon. It screamed through the air and slammed into the earth behind Corporal Rafe Dorian with a metallic crunch. Rafe didn't flinch—just kept firing, calm as ever.
As one soldier ran dry on ammo, another covered them without missing a beat. Reload, reposition, suppress—repeat. The formation moved like a well-oiled machine.
Until the spear detonated.
A concussive shockwave blasted outward from the embedded weapon, flinging the team apart and shattering their precision.
Pierce barked orders through clenched teeth, "Regroup! Bennett, cover their flank! Nadia, prepare for close combat!"
The opening the Saints had waited for.
The sword-wielder raised its blade toward the sun, gathering an orb of fractured light. It fired—beams lancing erratically like a storm of broken lasers.
Soldiers scrambled for cover.
Sergeant Bennett Shaw caught a beam across his left shoulder; his uniform sizzled, skin burned raw. He gritted his teeth against the white-hot pain.
Theo called out, "You alright?"
"Don't get hit by those things," Bennett grunted. "Feels like a branding iron from hell."
The spear-wielder dove, reclaiming its weapon mid-air, and charged at Theo like a bolt of judgment.
Specialist Nadia Faye intercepted, raising her rifle like a shield. Steel met light—the impact flung her back, shattering the rifle.
The Saint sneered, "Your weapon broke. How will you defend yourself now?"
Nadia smirked, wiping blood from her lip. "If you're that worried, maybe don't attack."
The Saint chuckled darkly. "But that wouldn't be fun, would it?"
It lunged again—but Nadia was already moving, narrowly dodging as gunfire rained down from her squad.
She bolted for Bastion and returned wielding twin kukris—curved, gleaming, and eager.
Pierce shouted, "Form two units! Take them down!"
Team A: Pierce, Mira, Jonah, Ezra, and Alina.
Team B: Elias, Rafe, Kellan, Nadia, Theo, and Bennett.
Team A flanked the sword-wielder, moving with precision under Pierce's command.
Mira fired a clean shot, hitting the Saint's wrist mid-channel. The weapon dropped.
Gunfire followed as the Saint twisted through the air, wings flickering with fury.
Ezra broke formation, shifting too far from the group.
The Saint noticed immediately.
It dived at him, lightning-fast.
"You shouldn't have stepped out of formation," it sneered.
Ezra grinned, eyes locked on the Saint. "What a fucking idiot. Should've looked behind me."
He dropped flat on his back.
Behind him, Jonah mounted Bastion's heavy gun.
The .50-cal roared to life.
Bullets tore through the Saint's glowing form, ripping apart divine flesh. The black core inside shattered.
One down.
Meanwhile, Nadia kept the spear-wielder's focus. Kellan hurled a device nearby—it sparked and hissed.
The Saint, caught in the duel, didn't notice the trap.
Kellan hit the detonator.
Electricity surged upward, locking the Saint in place.
Nadia didn't hesitate.
She struck with a flurry—slicing deep—and the others unleashed everything they had.
The second core shattered.
Both Hollowed Saints fell, their corrupted light flickering out.
The battlefield fell silent.
Smoke curled through the air.
Pierce lowered his weapon, breathing heavily.
"Good work. Everyone—check your gear, patch up, and prepare for extraction. This fight isn't over."
Ezra clapped Pierce on the shoulder. "Nice command back there, Colonel."
Pierce nodded. "We're only as strong as our weakest link. Stay sharp."
Victory—but the war had only just begun.