After laying out an abridged version of his plan, the colonel felt some relief at seeing their faces brighten. Aziz could understand their feelings very well; it was far easier to let someone else do the thinking.

“Got it?” Aziz asked.

The little officers nodded, and then ran off. Within moments, they had divvied up the troops, before scattering in all directions to dismantle the outer defences. Camp Starfall was too huge for their current forces to protect adequately, so Aziz wanted to secure a way out first. By relocating the fixed defences to protect the teleportation formation, they would simultaneously reduce the breadth of the defence line, as well as the effectiveness of a killzone made up by a thousand of so Limitless Shots.

Aziz took a deep breath and took in the sight of these worker ants scurrying back and forth as they dismantled suitable emplacements — mostly the fast-firing single gunner Limitless Shots and carried them into the heart of Camp Starfall. The barrier that surrounded the camp was still ripple-free, which meant that it wasn’t under attack just yet.

It was not his job to fantasise about the best possible outcomes, so the colonel took to the skies. Other than the gigantic barrier that protected Camp Starfall, there were also smaller ones that protected smaller buildings and places. One of these places happened to be the vast teleportation formation, which was already in the middle of being fortified.

“Marshal.” Aziz landed beside her.

“Thanks, Aziz.” Marie smiled at him. “How long do you think we can hold?”

“If we’re attacked? Maybe…half a day, if we’re really lucky.” Aziz closed his eyes. “I don’t really fancy our chances against the spectres, and—”

The distant rumbling of gunfire cut his words off, and the two of them looked up at the sky. There, breaking past the horizon, were around forty or so Locomotives, but Aziz couldn’t recognise their model.

Marie narrowed her eyes. “Where did these…”

“They’re the North’s own forces!” A shout rang across the camp. “They’re here! We’re saved!”

That last statement was quite ridiculous, however. Considering that the people here could have fled through the teleportation formation at any moment, there really wasn’t a risk at all.

The fleet of forty Locomotives abruptly split up, wheeling on the spot to face the direction in which they had retreated from. Gunfire rumbled, sending out thousands of falling stars into parts unknown. Aziz didn’t know where they were shooting at, but he did at least know that they were definitely shooting at enemies.

“It seems that the North has, at least, a good head on their shoulders,” Marie commented.

Beams of blue light arced outwards from the assembled Locomotives a moment later, cutting a stark contrast against the crimson sky. Thunderclaps, distant and muted, rolled past Aziz’s head a moment later. Under the reliable rumbling of artillery fire, the colonel felt the tension drain out of him.

It would seem that there wouldn’t be a battle after all.

“Yes. Everyone here’s injured, anyway. Can’t say that I’m looking forward to a fight. Besides—”

All colour fled from the world at that very moment, as a single word echoed out from the continent centre.

“Silence.”

That word itself to provoke an incredible reaction from Orb itself, and as the world returned to normal, a grey hemisphere ballooned outwards from the continent centre at a terrifying speed, sweeping past Aziz in the time he took to blink twice. The crimson firmament that had plagued the whole world back then was now tinted by a shade of grey. At the same time, the gunfire that had been blasting out from the Locomotives died out, and the forty giant hulks hung in mid-air for a few moments, giving off an air of confusion and befuddlement.

If he didn’t get it wrong—

“The Abyss Sovereign changed natural law,” Marie muttered, enunciating his words at that exact moment. “Like in the Wildlands, where flight was prohibited for almost everyone. He just made it such that…the Locomotives can’t fire their weapons anymore. I don’t know how, but…”

“What are you doing?” Marie asked.

“Checking to see if our smaller weapons can be used.” Aziz raised the Straight Shot and raised it to the sky. Making sure that there was no one in his way, he pulled the trigger once, and—

“Nothing.” The colonel chuckled nervously. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Considering that most of us were used to warfare with ranged weapons, I think that’s one really, really big understatement,” Marie replied. “That kid…he must have found some commonality between both our small arms and the giant cannons on the Locomotives, and then…”

“My head hurts.” Aziz took a deep breath. “What now?”

“What now?” She looked at everyone around her, who were displaying various emotions. “Unless you fancy tangling with shadowy monsters in hand-to-hand combat, I suggest we tuck our tails in and leave. There’s not really much we can do at this point. After all, most of us here has one injury or another right now.”

Aziz watched as their would-be defenders turned to flee. Putting on another burst of speed, they surged past Camp Starfall, eventually vanishing through the grey wall that had appeared south of their position. “You want to say it, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” Marie cleared her throat. “All troops, prepare to evacuate at any moment’s notice. We have lost any capability of defending against these spectres. Stop whatever you’re doing and gather at my position.”

Everyone present, who had been struck dumb when the Locomotives fled, immediately gathered around like little chicks who had found her mother. Marie launched into her explanation immediately, and the shock turned into aghast horror as they understood what this grey sky actually did.

With this revelation, any hint of fighting spirit had gone out of the window. Aziz didn’t like it, but telling the truth was the ethical course of action here.

It wouldn’t be long before the camp itself came under attack; Aziz and Marie minimally had a duty to get them out alive.

Even if it cost the two of them their jobs.