Markus leaned his head against the window of the train car and watched the trees speed by. Right now, they reminded him of the place he wanted to be – the same place that he could no longer live. He let out a frustrated sigh but continued staring outside, seeking some small amount of solace in the familiarity of the environment.
Until not too long ago, things had been going great for Markus. He had lived in his mother’s house in the Swiss Alps for the past sixteen years. The natural setting had offered plenty of opportunities for excitement and enjoyment outdoors, and while there weren’t too many people living nearby, Markus preferred it that way. His homeschooling had kept him reasonably busy, and overall, life was good.
All that changed about a month ago. Without any warning, tremors had rolled through the countryside. While they weren’t especially damaging, the novelty of an earthquake had caused quite a stir. Just as the excitement was wearing off, horrible and unexpected news had been broadcasted: All contact with Portugal, Spain, and parts of France had been lost. Search teams had ventured into the area, desperately looking for survivors, but that was called off after wading through several dozen miles of death and destruction, with no signs of life at all.
The government of the EAA, the Eurasian-American Alliance, had declared the airspace above the affected areas hostile, and all aircraft were forbidden to enter it, at least until someone could get some understanding of what exactly had happened there. Was it just an extremely powerful earthquake? Some sort of explosion? A meteor impact? Something worse?
Questions had piled up faster than answers could be found, but as days and even weeks passed without any further word, the people of Europe had gone back to living their lives, at least as well as anyone could be expected to after a situation like that. The questions remained, but for the time being, things seemed almost normal again.
Then came the previous night, and everything had gone wrong again.
Two uniformed men had arrived at Markus’s house. They were wearing maroon military style uniforms, but the outfits were almost completely unadorned. The single exception to this was a patch bearing the letters “HDF” in gold on each man’s shoulder. The men had been very blunt: “We underestimated the danger of the recent tremors, and now the government has called for an evacuation of all non-essential residents. Go or we’ll make you go.”
Apparently “non-essential” meant “children,” because Markus’s mother was allowed to continue working in Switzerland, and only Markus had been given a train ticket. And now, here he was, riding a train to Berlin, completely leaving his old life behind. The next several hours passed quickly as Markus alternated between sleeping and looking out the window. Only a few more people got on throughout the trip, and no one tried to sit near him. The whole experience was rather uneventful and even boring, and Markus actually felt relieved when the train finally arrived in Berlin.
Markus stepped out of the passenger car onto the platform and looked around. The station had a large curved glass ceiling and several train lines, and shops and restaurants lined the perimeter. All around there were signs labeled “Berlin HBF”, as well as several more that indicated which tracks were which. At the far end of the station there was a massive schedule board, listing all of the incoming and outgoing trains. Loudspeakers were constantly going, alerting the people there to upcoming arrivals and departures in several languages. One of the messages caught Markus’s attention: “All participants in the HDF evacuation program, please meet at the north entrance to the station.” The message continued repeating itself in several different languages. Markus took one last look around, shrugged, and began to make his way outside.
The first thing that caught Markus’s attention was the vehicle parked on the road outside of the station. It was the same dark red as the two men had worn the other day, and like them, it had “HDF” emblazoned across its sides in bright gold letters. A uniformed man was standing outside of it, and there were three other teenagers like Markus waiting by it with bags of their own. Markus would have expected that there would be others, and he also wasn’t surprised that transportation was waiting. However, the thing that amazed him was the nature of the vehicle. It wasn’t a bus or a van or a similar vehicle. No, this was clearly military in nature. It had a very high, very boxy frame set on four large wheels, and the top was obviously designed to have a mounted machine gun of some sort, though no such gun was present. Vehicles like these were exceptionally rare; most of the world had been demilitarized for at least a decade. The government must have been involved if military hardware was being used. This realization caused Markus to feel a lot more confident, but also significantly more wary. Something big was happening, and for some unexplained reason, he was becoming a part of it.
Markus approached the uniformed man a bit uncertainly. “Excuse me, I’m Markus Schwartz…I’ve been evacuated from Glarus, Switzerland. Am I in the right place?”
“This is it, kid,” the man replied, eying Markus. “I’m taking you all to your new living quarters. We’re just waiting in case anyone else shows up. This ride leaves in two minutes, so get your gear loaded up.”
Markus nodded and climbed into the back of the vehicle. He sat down, putting his bag on his lap. The other kids followed, and soon the four of them were sitting inside waiting for the trip to start. One of the boys sat next to Markus, while the other boy and the girl sat across from them. The person sitting next to him seemed a bit apprehensive, almost worried, but the other boy was eagerly taking in everything, intensely interested in the whole ordeal. The girl wore a completely unconcerned look, as though this sort of thing happened all the time. All three of them looked to be about Markus’s age, give or take a year.
The uniformed man called into the vehicle, “That’s it, we’re moving out!” He slammed the door shut, and about thirty seconds later the engine started up. They were on their way.
The short trip was spent in silence. None of the passengers were about to start conversation, for their own individual reasons. Markus’s seatmate seemed too timid, the girl apparently took no notice of the others, and the third person was too focused on the vehicle interior for the thought of conversation to even enter his mind. Markus was fine with the silence; he preferred it to excessive chatter.
Soon they arrived at a large white residential building. “Here we are,” the driver said. “This is where you’ll be living for as long as the evacuation lasts.” He pointed at a set of doors at the front of the building. “Go in there and give your names to the receptionist. She’ll give you your room keys.”
Markus grabbed his bag and stepped out of the vehicle, followed by the others. They walked up a stone path to the entrance and went inside. The main lobby was surprisingly empty; aside from a woman sitting behind the counter and the three who had followed Markus in, no one was there. The woman looked up. “Name?” she questioned.
“Markus Schwartz.”
The receptionist started going down a list, mumbling the different names as she passed them. Finally she looked back at Markus. “Markus Schwartz, age 16, hometown Glarus, Switzerland?”
Markus nodded. “That’s me.”
The woman took a set of keys off the wall behind her and dropped them on the counter. “You’re in flat 302. Drop your things off, make yourself comfortable, talk with your roommates, doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want for now, but be sure to meet down here at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. At that time, you and the others will be given a tour of the facility where you’ll be…employed.”
Markus looked at her strangely. Something about the way she said “employed” didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “We’ll be working?” he asked her.
“And going to school, too,” the woman replied. “You didn’t think that you’d just sit here for the entirety of the evacuation, did you?”
Markus sighed and grabbed his keys off the counter. “I guess not. Thanks.” His reply was more conclusion than gratitude, but he wasn’t about to start this experience off by being rude to the people in charge. The stairs were just around the corner, and he made his way up them to the third floor. From there Markus walked a short way down the single hall until he came to the door marked “302.” It was already slightly open, so he pushed it the rest of the way and entered the room.
At first glance, the flat was as basic as it could have been. The room he was in was sort of a cross between a living room and a dining room. There was a small table in the middle surrounded by four chairs, and a couch was placed against the right wall. Ahead of him, a door opened into what was probably a kitchen, and the room immediately adjacent to the main one looked like a bedroom. There was a teenager sitting at the table reading, and he looked up as Markus entered.
“You can just toss your things in the bedroom,” he said, noticing his new roommate’s hesitation. As Markus moved to do so, the boy continued, “I’m Edmond. I just got in here yesterday from France. What’s your story?”
Markus threw his bag into the next room and sat down before answering. “My story?” he snorted. “Yesterday two guys showed up and kicked me out of my house. Now I’m here. What’s to tell?”
Edmond chuckled. “I’m sure there’s just a little bit more to it than that, isn’t there? I mean, you do have a name, right?”
Markus threw him a look that clearly said, “That wasn’t funny,” but Edmond either didn’t see it or didn’t care. Markus replied anyway. “I’m Markus. And again, there’s no real story. Two men in uniform came to my house, said there was a problem, and gave me a ticket to Berlin. I packed some clothes, took the train, and now I’m here.” Edmond opened his mouth to say something, but Markus quickly continued, cutting him off. “What I don’t understand,” he said, gesturing meaninglessly at Edmond, “is how they can justify evacuating all of the kids but leaving the adults there. Either there was a problem or there wasn’t, you know?” Again Edmond started to speak, and again Markus kept talking. “Either it’s dangerous or it isn’t. It’s that simple. All of that talk about keeping the economy going is nonsense. They want us kids here for something, and I don’t know what. It’s something big, though.”
Edmond finally got a word in. “Come on Markus, you really think it’s some kind of conspiracy? Why shouldn’t the EAA work in its citizens’ best interests? Isn’t that what a government is for?”
Markus stood up and began pacing, completely ignoring what Edmond had just said. “There was another thing that bothered me, too. I can understand them continuing our education, but working? What sort of work do you think it is?” Edmond didn’t even bother to attempt a response this time. “They can’t possibly know our skill sets enough to give us real work, and all of the unskilled work is automated these days. And you know,” Markus suddenly stopped pacing and looked up. “The receptionist didn’t even say that we’d be working. She said we’d be employed,” he said, emphasizing the final word. “Employed! Not working, employed! That could be anything!” Markus’s pacing had taken him close to the wall, and he now dropped down on the couch there. “Well, it couldn’t be just anything, I suppose. It can’t be skilled work and it can’t be unskilled work. What the heck is left?”
Edmond had been waiting for Markus to finish, and now he caught Markus’s look. “You’re asking me? How should I know?” he questioned.
Markus shook his head. “You’re going to be a great roommate, I can tell already,” he told Edmond sarcastically.
“Well what do you want me to say?” asked Edmond in an exasperated tone. “You didn’t want my input before and I don’t have input now. There’s nothing to tell you!”
Markus sighed. “Fine. So what’s there to do around here?”
Edmond raised and lowered his book. “You’re looking at it. This’ll keep me occupied until it’s time to go to bed.”
“Let me rephrase that,” Markus said in an annoyed tone. “What’s there for ME to do around here?”
“I’m afraid you’re on your own,” Edmond replied, beginning to focus his attention on his book. “I guess you could check out the city or talk with some of the other people here. I’m sure you’ll find something to do.”
Markus opened his mouth to retort, but decided it wasn’t worth his time and simply shook his head instead and rose to leave. Edmond was already buried in his book as Markus walked out the door.
Markus made his way down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the doors. He only encountered two other people along the way, and neither of them made any effort to greet or talk to him. As he stepped outside, he was greeted was a sight that he had missed on the trip in. A little over a mile away and almost directly in front of him, a large hill rose above the rest of the countryside. There was a low, dark colored building at the crest, and several large domes sat on top of towers around that building. Aside from that, the only other landmark was a large building complex to Markus’s left. A smattering of houses completed the landscape.
Markus spent the next several hours exploring the surrounding area. Happily, it seemed that they were on the very edge of the city proper, and most of his exploration took place in and around the nearby river and forest. It was a very satisfied Markus that returned to the flat that night. After unpacking all of his clothes, he selected one of the unoccupied bunks and crawled in.
The events of the past two days tumbled through Markus’s mind as he lay in bed. Just 48 hours ago, he was living his normal life, completely unaware that any of this would happen. And now, here he was, in a different country, surrounded by people he didn’t know, about to take part in something he knew nothing about. Markus took a deep breath and released it. Tomorrow, he would have a lot of answers, but he suspected he would have even more new questions.
The next day began with Markus and several others being loaded up on some sort of troop carrier. They only went a short way before stopping, and as Markus stepped out of the vehicle, he saw why. They had been taken to the building on top of the hill he had seen the night before. At this distance, he could tell that the building was actually the dark red color he had come to associate with the HDF (whatever that was). The others looked around, more curious than anything else. The girl that Markus had seen the day before was also there, and as before, she was showing her usual indifference.
The set of double doors on the building opened, and a uniformed man in his thirties stepped out. He cleared his throat and addressed everyone, “Good morning. I’m Instructor Cramer. If you all will follow me inside, you will find out exactly why you were evacuated, as well as why you were brought here. However, there is something you should be aware of: Once you come in, you stay in; if you chose to remain outside, you’ll stay out. Make your choice now.”
The girl was the first one to step forward, and everyone followed suit soon after. Markus entered with them, his curiosity overpowering his apprehension. Once all fifteen of the teenagers had entered the building, Cramer closed the doors and turned to face them. “Everyone, please step through the detectors and wait in the area past them. Once everyone is through, I’ll give a proper introduction to this building and your purpose here.”
The group passed one by one through the detectors with no problems. They now stood in a slightly larger area ready to listen to whatever Cramer had to say. He stepped in front of a closed door and began his speech.
“You are now standing in the main base of the HDF, or Human Defense Force. This group was commissioned by the government a short time ago in response to the impact. Luckily, there had been a facility under this mountain since the Second World War, and it was a simple matter to renovate it to suit our purposes.”
One of the teenagers raised his hand and, without waiting to be acknowledged, asked, “You said the HDF was formed in response to the impact? What was the impact? What caused it? How dangerous is it really?”
Cramer gave the boy a stern look. “I’m speaking right now. You do not ask questions until I am finished.” He paused a moment to let the rebuke sink in, then continued, “However, it happens that I was going to address the impact next. What was it? Our scientists aren’t entirely sure at this point. We do know that it wiped out the most of the populations of Spain and France, and we also know that the surrounding areas have been profoundly affected in other ways. We sent several scout teams to the site to investigate, but none have returned. However, there have been credible reports of mechanical beings originating from the impact zone. Right now all evidence points to them being extraterrestrial in origin, and granted, no one can really imagine any other source of these robots, but there may be other reasons, other origins. Because of their shady background, our researchers have simply dubbed them ‘metabots.’ Obviously, we have no understanding of their communications, causing contact with the metabots to be a near impossibility. For this reason, all metabots must be considered hostile, as they cannot be negotiated with.”
The instructor turned and opened the door. “The Human Defense Force has been working almost non-stop to develop a way to counteract the metabots, and we’ve come up with several weapons that should prove to be effective. Please follow me.” He led the group through a short hallway and down two flights of stairs, finally stopping in a large room.
Markus looked around. There were lines all over the floor, clearly marking small zones. It looked almost like something one might see in a gymnasium. A set of eight large dummies lined one of the walls, and a rack of sparring equipment was mounted on the opposing wall. This was almost certainly some sort of training room. Combat? Were they expected to fight something? Markus’s eyes widened, and a thrill of something like fear shot through him. Were they expected to fight the metabots? His attention was drawn to the person in front of them, who appeared to be about to speak.
A powerful looking man stood before them, with about a dozen blades of varying shapes and sizes on a table in front of him. “Listen up,” he said without preamble, “These are the weapons that our research department has been developing. Because our enemies are robotic in nature, they are controlled through computer systems. It follows that the most efficient way to knock them out is through a focused electrical charge; an EMP, if you will. However, the metabots are well protected. They’re protected by heavy armor and electromagnetic shielding, meaning that we can’t simply deploy an area EMP. No, the charge must be delivered directly.” The man lifted one of the blades. “This is an MP short sword. It’s a complicated device, and I’ll only give you an elementary explanation of how one works.” He flipped a switch on the handle, and the air around the blade seemed to shimmer. “Hear that hum? The blade is vibrating at a very specific frequency. In the right hands, it will be calibrated perfectly to disrupt the molecular structure of the metabots’ armor. Once the MP sword has pierced a metabot’s armor, it will deliver the electrical charge directly to the central computer system, completely and permanently shutting the metabot down. The power of the electrical pulse will have a noticeable effect on the wielder: they will feel some discomfort from stray discharge. We’re working on ways to eliminate that, though.”
One of the teenagers started to raise his hand, then belatedly looked back at Cramer and lowered it quickly. “No, go ahead,” the man prompted. “I’m willing to clear up any confusion you may have.”
“Well...I guess I’m just curious about what you meant by ‘calibration.’ Are you saying that the weapons function differently when used by different people?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” replied the instructor. “The impact produced more than just physical effects. It’s rather complicated to explain, so suffice to say that only people of a certain age living a certain distance from the impact can use these weapons effectively.”
A certain age living a certain distance…so THAT’S why we’re here, thought Markus, glaring at the instructor. They want US to fight these metabots. Evacuated? More like drafted. Anger slowly began to build in him, completely annihilating any fear that the inevitable combat might have evoked. Such a thing was almost positively too far off to even consider, but the very prospect of a government organization rounding up kids to fight their battles for them? What kind of audacity made them think that they had anything close to the right to do that?
Markus looked around to see if anyone else was aware of what had happened. Realization was only present in the eyes of a few of the others; the rest of them just appeared interested in this new technology.
The rest of them…
With a start, Markus realized that the girl looked interested as well. For the first time since he had known her, she wasn’t acting aloof and uncaring. Instead, the she had moved to the front of the group and was eagerly eying the various blades on the table, taking in every word that the instructor was saying. Markus focused his attention on him as well, realizing that he had missed the first part of what he was now saying.
“…and usage is essentially what you’d expect from a melee weapon. However, a few modifications have been made that distinguish MP blades from traditional swords. Notice how on this particular model, the handle is horizontal rather than vertical. This is to promote a thrusting action when attacking, rather than a slashing one. The weapons will still work if you slash with them, but those attacks may not penetrate as deeply as ones that focus all of your force in one place.” The instructor set the blade down and picked up one with a long, narrow blade. “This is the MP katana. We’ve only recently begun work on these, and even the one here is only a prototype. As you can see, it’s modeled after the Japanese katanas, and is designed for a quicker, more elegant style of fighting than the MP short sword.” He put the katana down and hefted a much larger, much thicker sword. “And on the other end of the spectrum, we have the MP broadsword. The reach is much greater than that of the MP short sword, and the additional weight makes a swinging attack significantly more effective. This is also a prototype, and not functional yet.” Finally, the instructor picked up one of the smaller blades and unsheathed it. “Our final weapon is the MP knife. Much smaller than its relatives, and the only one of these weapons designed exclusively for self-defense.” He replaced the knife in its sheath and set it down. “Any questions?”
The teenagers looked at each other and at the weapons, but no one seemed to have anything to say. “Alright then. This is the sparring room where all training takes place. You’ll become very comfortable with this place, and probably sooner than you’d like.” The instructor looked at Cramer. “Instructor Cramer, they’re all yours.”
“Thank you, Instructor Nelson,” Cramer replied. “Now, if you’ll all follow me –”
His sentence was cut short as a woman in a tan uniform emerged from the stairwell and came rushing at the group. “Instructor Cramer!” she cried. “We have an emergency!”
“Coordinator Renard,” Cramer replied formally. “What’s the problem?”
“Metabots have been spotted moving towards our location,” the woman replied breathlessly. “ETA is fifteen minutes.”
Shock and surprise clearly registered on the faces of many of the teenagers, but Cramer remained calm. “And our orders?”
Renard hesitated visibly before answering. “The…the Director requested that the children be armed and sent out to fight them.”
The shock immediately changed to disbelief, and many of them, including Markus, began to protest. “What? WHAT!?” yelled Markus. “Are you crazy? None of us know anything about fighting. We just got here! We were supposed to be evacuated to be kept OUT of danger! This…I’ve…it’s…” Words failed him, his train of thought unable to keep up with his sudden flow of emotion.
“You heard the order,” replied Cramer. “Arguing won’t accomplish anything, as there’s simply no alternative. It would be in your best interests, as well as ours, if you would just comply.”
“You’re crazy!” Markus repeated. “You’re absolutely insane! Your group has essentially kidnapped us, and now you’re forcing us to do your dirty work? You want us to put our lives on the line for YOU? What’s in it for us? What do we get out of it? Why should we even consider doing this?” Cramer began to say something, but Markus cut him off. “No, you know what? Screw it. I’m not doing this. There is absolutely nothing at all that you can offer that’s worth risking my life for.”
“If you’re finished acting like a little child, maybe you can keep quiet and pay attention,” Cramer replied sharply. “You don’t have a choice. None of you do. We’re not asking you to do this as a favor to us. We’re simply telling you the brutal truth: If you don’t defend us, we all will die. If you don’t stand up to the metabots, no one will. Do you really think we’d entrust the future of this base to a handful of whiney children like you if there was some other way? Do you think we’re stupid?”
“Listen to me –” Markus began.
“No, you listen,” Cramer shot back. “Experts have evaluated the situation. People whose only job is to deal with situations like these have determined that this is the only way. We need a way to disable the metabots, and the only weapons that have any hope of doing so can only be used by people like you. If you don’t use these weapons, if you choose to ignore the responsibility before you, then the metabots will overrun us. There’s no other possible outcome.”
Markus opened his mouth to talk again, but stopped as something hard collided with his body. He turned in surprise to see the girl looking at him, holding a shield and one of the MP short swords. She had shoved him with her shield! What was wrong with her?
“Are you done?” the girl asked Markus. “You know the situation. We all do. Now stop making excuses and DO something about it.” She left Markus gaping at her and turned to Cramer. “I’m ready. Just point me in the right direction. I’ll do this myself if I have to.”
“It’s good to see at least one person has any sense here,” Cramer mumbled. He looked up and addressed the others. “The rest of you, suit up! Grab a shield from the far wall and take one of the MP blades. Instructor Nelson has more if there aren’t enough on the table. Once you’re ready, follow me and I’ll direct you to the deployment area.”
In a confused rush, the teenagers were equipped and sent outside. As they looked around, trying to accustom themselves to the bright sun and the new terrain, a shout was heard. Everyone looked towards the source of the voice, then in the direction that he was pointing. There was a collective gasp among the new soldiers; some in surprise, some in apprehension, and some in outright fear.
Several dozen silhouettes appeared in front of the setting sun. The hazy figures appeared to be seven or eight foot tall humanoid forms, moving mechanically forward at a steady pace. Everyone stood still, mesmerized by the enemies and breathless with anticipation.
Markus looked around at the others. Most of them looked every bit as uneasy as he felt. Some were even visibly trembling in fear. Markus took a deep breath and slowly released it; he wasn’t going to degrade himself by showing his own anxiety. He was shocked to find that his mouth and throat had gone completely dry.
It appeared that a few others were also trying to keep their nerves under control; at least two or three others were wearing determined looks, and one was…smiling? Markus glanced over again, not believing what he had just seen. Sure enough, the girl now had a tight grin on her face, clearly eager to fight. Markus shook his head and turned back to the advancing force.
The metabots were now clearly visible; they had closed to within 100 yards. They were exactly as Markus had imagined they’d look: glowing rectangular eyes set in metal, expressionless heads that were mounted on blocky frames. Here and there patches of light appeared as the sun reflected off sections of their metal bodies, poking through the dark shadows that preceded them. The metabots continued their steady pace; now they were at 40 yards…30 yards…20 yards…10 yards.
The lead metabot casually brushed aside the first person in his way, who fell into a trembling heap on the ground. Other people unconsciously parted, opening up a path for the metabots to go through. Several of the recruits stood staring; others tried to get away. Markus looked around in disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a war cry from his right. The girl was now charging at the lead metabot. It looked at her slowly, mechanically, as if in surprise. Before it could react, however, the girl had thrust her blade into its midsection. She grimaced slightly as the blade slid neatly through the robot’s armor. The metabot abruptly stiffened as it fell backwards from the force of her attack. The girl paused, glanced down to make sure it had ceased functioning, then jumped onto the fallen frame. Both robot and human alike watched her, motionless, noiseless, caught completely off-guard by the sudden display of aggression.
“Don’t you have any pride at all?” she yelled at the other recruits. “You cowards! Fight!” With that, the girl jumped down and continued her assault, her blade glinting in the sun and her long dark hair blowing about in the wind. It was an awe-inspiring sight to see this one person fight alone against a force of forty.
However, Markus immediately realized that that fight wouldn’t last long without assistance. “You heard her!” he shouted. “Let’s go!”
The next several minutes were a frenzied blur for Markus. The metabots didn’t seem prepared for resistance, and they were slow to react to the attacks of the new recruits. Even so, it seemed like it was all Markus could do to avoid getting hit. He was flailing, not fighting; like the others, there was no skill behind any of his movements. They were all just trying to stay alive.
The feeling of pain kept injecting itself into the chaos surrounding Markus. Now it was the sting of a grazing attack. Now it was a crushing blow on his shield. Now it was a dull pain as his blade hit and incapacitated a metabot. Throughout all this, exhaustion was steadily building up in his body.
Suddenly, there was nothing left to attack, nothing left to dodge. Markus looked around wildly, heart racing and body shaking. Somehow, they had prevailed. Somehow, they had defeated all of the metabots. Only about half of them were still on their feet; the rest were on the ground, heavily injured or dead. All but two of those standing were also injured.
A tickle on his arm caused Markus to look down. His shoulder had been torn open, and blood was oozing down onto his left arm. He dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Markus was exhausted, and there was some sort of deeper fatigue, too. It seemed like even thinking hurt.
As the adrenaline began to wear off, Markus realized that he was trembling uncontrollably. He was overwhelmed by a sudden flow of emotion; acutely aware of the fear that he had held back during the battle. Markus looked at the bodies around him. He could have easily suffered their fate. Death had never seemed as real to him as it did at that moment, and Markus knew very well that only luck had spared him. The blade fell out of his hand. The shield slid off his arm. Markus hunched forward, shaking, almost on the verge of crying, overcome by the events that had just happened.
The dark-haired girl stood motionless, looking on.