essica’s palms sweated as she watched the world change in front of her. Solidifying into the city scape that would make up the place they would fight in. A small map appeared in her vision with black borders that she guessed were the limits of the arena.

“What do you think Peep?” Peep peeped uneasily next to her. He was exhausted from their last fight. Not physically, as the System seemed to have restored them both to what they had been just before the last dual. But mentally the little guy was about at his limit.

She sighed as he curled around her shoulders and rested his head on her shoulder. She held her staff in one hand, ready to get into the fight if she was needed. But right now, she wanted to rest. But she couldn’t, she knew that. Even if she was allowed, Max was gone. She didn’t think she could sleep at all.

***

Labau’s knife cut deep as it glided across the guard's neck severing his vocal cords and exposing his arteries to the stars above. The man struggled but Labau caught him as he fell, then stuck the knife straight into where he thought the mans heart was. He went still half a second later, as the same process was repeated two more times by Labau’s men.

Max stayed quiet and still. He could have done what Labau and his men did, but he didn’t want to get in the way of their clearly well choreographed and trained movements. Instead he watched, keeping his rifle trained from hsi mud covered hide, on the column of twenty warriors that were marching by them.

The sentries had been to watch for any movement in the dark, their backs has been to the fire light to save their vision, but it hadn’t been enough to overcome the US military standard issue camouflage, mud, and smooth movements of the reapers as they cut the enemy down as quickly, and quietly as they could.

“Reaper 1 to Devil dog, when they reach the open concrete outside the construction site, drive them to cover. Then we’ll have some fun.” Labau’s voice filled Max’s earpiece and he grinned. He knew the plan, the ambush was pretty by the books.

The column of twenty soldiers didn’t notice the dead sentries, as they passed by the mounds of piled dirt in the fake construction yard the system had provided them. Such places were common in large city scapes like this, where some developer or large corp decided they wanted to try and rejuvenate at least some small patch of the hellscape their home had become. So it didn’t surprise Max that the System had left it here. What did surprise him was the fact that it felt so real. Cold coffee cups, cantines, work hats, gloves, and even a car that had some picture of a woman that had to have been the love interest of whoever had owned the vehicle gave the place a real, lived in feel. Perhaps it was patterned after some place in New York, or Salt Lake City. Perhaps it was wholly from the imagination of whatever AI or supreme being ran the System. Either way, it had given Max the chills. It had given Labeau an idea.

The marching dragon soldiers didn’t hear the muffled cries for help, or their struggles in mud and blood against the ranger reapers from the sentinels. They just kept on marching. Right into the trap.

Max pulled the trigger and a stream of hot lead ripped through the air down stream. Three rounds impacted on the helmet of the man who marched in front of the column of twenty warriors, sending it flying into the dark. The soldiers didn’t run for cover, instead they lifted their shields and surrounded their wounded officer as he fell. It was a silent thing, quiet, professional. It impressed Max. But, it wouldn’t impress him for much longer.

More rifle rounds split the night. After the third soldier fell injured or dead, the dragon warriors activated the red magical sheen and the rounds proved far less effective. One section of five soldiers raised their shields and started marching directly at Max, their deadly intent clear. Thats alright, they won’t be able to block this.

Max pulled a metal line that he had rigged, and the grenade pins among the rocks and stones at the enemy's feet flew high into the air. He ducked, forcing his face into the dirt and waited. One. . . Two. . . Three. . . The chain explosion ripped through the dirt and shook the earth around him. When the dirt settled, he looked up. One of the men had fallen just a few inches from him. Dead, body riddled with shrapnel.

Max pulled his rifle up and ended the other two. Wounded as they were, they would have died anyway. At that moment the other reapers emerged, some wielding shovel-axes, others rifles, and laid into those either still standing and stunned from the attack, or who were wounded. After a few seconds of brutal violence, the ambush was over, and twenty three of the enemy lay dead.

“Any casualties?” Max asked as he came up beside Labeau who was putting out the torches and lamps the enemy had been carrying.

“Donald got cut pretty bad across the face by that captain of theirs. We’re sending him back. But the rest of us are ready to go.”

“How many VP’s did we get?” Max asked, and Labeaus' smile lit up the night.

“How many did we kill?”

“So we’ve met our goal. We should go back, yeah?”

“Not yet. We were ordered to take as many as we could without getting caught. The night is still young marine. You can stay with us, or head back. But we’re going deeper in.”