No. It could not be.

Shadix gaped at the massive piece of machinery that had just appeared over the ridge. The tank-like structure rolled steadily on two massive sets of treads. A reflective bulge of glass protruded from the metallic body, keeping the drivers and technicians safe yet visible. Massive spheres extended from where shoulders would have been, and un- proportionally large arms extended from each one. At the end of each single jointed limb were rows of turrets and barrels.

Shadix could only watch as the ProtoSonic tank gained speed, ripping through landscape as it drew near to the battlefield. From hundreds of yards away, flashes of light could be seen from the end of the arms. Microseconds before blasts of fire, dirt and debris exploded from the ground, there was the sound of massive tubes letting out their guttural scream of gunfire.

Shadix saw peripherally that their greatest tool, the Thunder Roller, was destroyed in a matter of mere seconds. Shrapnel did as much damage to the surrounding solders as the missiles themselves. The battlefield had changed from a somewhat fair fight into a holocaust.

No! They had been winning! Shadix took cover from the rain of death from above behind a sturdy tree. Bullets whizzed past him, some striking the tree and gashing a gnarly hole through it. Woodchips and dust rain upon him, not only from his own tree but also from less fortunate trees around him. Screams of fear and terror resounded in every direction in the forest.

The tank had just reached the edge of the previous battlefield, guns still shrieking. Now it was arming missiles. Streams of smoke succeeded missiles as they flew through the air, wreaking havoc wherever they struck. Trees even bigger than Shadix’s were felled in one hit. Massive fireballs mixed with flying sharps of glass and metal desolated areas of young trees along with any comrades unfortunate enough to hide behind them.

Shadix’s sweat was mixed with dust and blood. He had taken a blast of vegetative debris after a well-placed missile punctured a tree. He peeked out from behind his tree. The ground forces of the enemy were staying near the vehicle. Smaller, normal sized tanks blazed beside it, letting off a never-ending screech of tank missiles to destroy their enemy.

“Shadix!” Ehthak called. He was hiding behind a shredded stump of a previous tree. “We gotta get out of here! This is defeat!”

“How do you plan to do that?” Shadix yelled back. The roar of the cannons was deafening.

“We run! If we die, we aren’t any worse off! That thing—“ But his dialogue was cut short due to an explosion behind him. The grueling sound of metal striking flesh was eminent through the havoc. Ehthak slumped against the tree, laboring just to breath.

“Go,” He said. “and I with you better luck.” Then he, with tremendous power, leaned back from behind the stump and started emptying his gun. Shadix bolted, calling for all to follow him. He had no difficulty finding them, they were hiding everywhere, but most were too afraid merely to move. But many followed him. To his surprise, not many were shot down during their flee.

Shadix gained courage as they got farther and farther from the ominous chunk of death metal that was pursuing them. He hoped that the trees might at least slow him down, even if they didn’t stop it. He checked behind his shoulder. He was followed by about thirty men. Some were injured, but most were just battered and fearful. Shadix smiled.

Screams of terror racked Shadix’s ears mere seconds later. His pupils shrunk as the people that were following him, the people that trusted him, shrieked in horror. He glanced over his shoulder again. In their wake was a missile. It screamed through the forest, dodging trees and drawing in closer. There was no mistaking it. It was targeting them.

Shadix saw a ridge up ahead and pounded his already aching legs even harder. His gun kept battering him during all this. Shadix tightened the belt attached to his gun that was around his shoulder and on his back to compensate. The harsh scream of the missile got louder every moment, and Shadix was sure it was about to explode and send them all cascading into internal resting. He came up to the ridge and jumped.

His world erupted. Fire, shrapnel, debris and screams of torment and pain filled every one of Shadix’s senses. He was blasted over the ridge and into cover from the rest of the onslaught. Three other of his comrades that were trailing him closely made it over as well, but the shrieks and screams of death could only show that the rest of the group had been destroyed.

Pain from Shadix’s shoulder, arms, legs and hands resounded louder then the cataclysm he had just witnessed. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, along with the rest of his group, and that saved them all from a horrifyingly grueling death. The sounds of screams and gunfire faded slowly. Shadix and his follow teammates sat there quietly, hoping that the ProtoSonic tank would never find it’s way to them.