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"Run!"

The words seemed to linger in the air for a brief spell before dissipating into nothingness. The air was left stagnant, left only with the familiar smell of rust, grime, and unwashed bodies. Or maybe the metallic smell was blood instead. It was difficult to distinguish in this age.

The truck jostled slightly, parting the curtains that protected the soldiers inside from the scrutiny of the morning sun. Clovis shielded his eyes from the light for the moment its gaze touched upon him. Everything returned to darkness again soon after, as the curtains were drawn shut by the attendant at the back of the truck. Clovis returned his thoughts to the single word again. He had been startled awake that morning by an explosion which had ripped him from a dream. All he could remember of it was a man shouting for him to run. Ever since his mind had been fixated on that thought, which seemed to be more than a simple dream. It felt as though it was a fleeting memory that felt so near and yet just out of reach. It mattered little to Clovis, but for a minor curiosity. There were countless gaps in his memory, this was simply a product of this defect. To Clovis what had come before was of far less importance than what was to come, so he returned his mind to the present.

His attention was drawn to the attendant at the back of the truck again. The curtain swung open once more, however this time it was caused by an arm plunging through the opening. In his reverie, Clovis had failed to notice that the truck had come to an abrupt halt. The arm bent inward at the elbow and was soon yanked back toward its owner, clawing through the attendant and the truck alike. Blood sprayed onto the walls and the soldiers as a blood curling scream escaped from the attendant's lips. Clovis met his eyes just as the life drained from them, the scream fading into obscurity.

No one else had moved. It was not that they were paralyzed in fear. No, far from that. Each soldier sat very still, but the excitement and bloodlust were near palpable. Quietly, they waited. For a signal, for a sign, for permission, it was impossible to tell. The world utterly silent aside from the squelching and tearing from the dismemberment that was occurring just beside them. The sounds stopped, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. A familiar metallic smell stinging the nostrils of those present. A smell that only excited the soldiers even more, their companion long forgotten.

Without warning or any sort of perceptible change, Clovis rose to his feet and stepped out from the truck. The light briefly blinded him as his eyes adjusted. They had stopped in a narrow alley, claustrophobically enclosed by two buildings on either side. Intricate barriers blocked either path out of the alley. This was clearly a trap. The transport had been on its way to a Rift that had formed not far from the northern ring of Zone 2. There were no manmade structures left beyond the walls of the cities. They should have been in a wasteland by now.

In front of Clovis stood three beings. At first glance one might mistake them for humans. Their bodies were humanoid and yet they stood twice as tall as the average person and their skin was a sickly green. Not to mention their tusk like teeth and hideous, snarling, faces. Orcs of this caliber were unheard of in Zone 2. They were weak. Creatures that rely on numbers, crude weapons, and simple brute force. Unless led by a General or Shaman, they were simply too unorganized to sustain themselves for long.

Clovis chuckled lightly to himself as he compared them to humans. The similarities were uncanny. As if beckoned by his thoughts, the soldiers erupted from the truck and in a matter of moments encircled the area. Their formation was more akin to a rectangle, due to the restrictions of the space they found themselves in, but the principle was the same, nonetheless.

A gentle click startled Clovis, drawing his attention to the truck once more. The driver side door swung open, and a slender leg descended, followed by another, as the driver stepped out, her heels crunching softly into the gravel below. She eyed Clovis wearily as he slowly spun around, and with a single wink, she disappeared, leaving only two shoe prints behind as proof of her having existed in that space. A wave of familiarity passed over Clovis, and yet he had no recollection of having ever seen the woman before. Shaking the thought from his head, he slowly scanned his surroundings, assessing the formation of his fellow soldiers and the positions of the Orcs before him.

A tug of war of tension seemed to rage for a spell as no one moved. It seemed as though an impasse had formed until, with their patience finally giving out, the Orcs charged forward. The one in the lead was the largest of the group. He wielded a crude axe. If one could even call it an axe. It was simply a sharpened rock fastened to a thick branch with sinew. The other two Orcs were similar in size and seemed to defer to the largest. One wielded a club, which was a slightly larger branch than the one the axe was constructed with, and the other wielded no weapon. This was the Orc that had killed the attendant. Evident by the blood that coated his hands and the guts hanging from his armor.

The Orcs seemed to pay the other soldiers no mind. Their gazes were fixated on Clovis. He was clearly their target. Understanding dawned on Clovis as he focused his gaze on the neck of the leading Orc. They had been tamed. A subtle mark could be discerned at the base of the Orc's throat, it was a Taming Seal. The magic traces were small, but still perceptible. A quick glance at the other Orcs revealed the same mark.

Clovis frowned softly as he waited patiently for the other soldiers to make their moves. He had expected more from them, but it seemed his feelings were ill placed. It was only a matter of time before they lost their composures. As predicted, they all darted forward just as the leading Orc swung his axe downward.

The axe missed its mark and descended into the ground, the force of the strike shattering the stone blade as it smashed into the gravel road. The lead Orc's body slumped slowly to the ground as his head tumbled into the crater left behind by the strike. The Orc wielding the club fell soon after, his body crumpling into a mess of blood and guts as it slammed into the barrier at its back. Undeterred by the deaths of his brethren, the final Orc had continued his charge, only to find himself split in two, both halves of his body flopping down, sliding for a brief while as the momentum of the charge propelled them forward.

Clovis stood quietly for a moment before he began to chuckle softly. As he calmed himself, a gentle smile began to raise the corners of his mouth. He looked down at the carnage around him. The alley was smeared with blood. Chunks of flesh were plastered to the walls and had been scattered throughout the area. The stench was nauseating. Slowly, Clovis removed the body of a soldier from his arm. He had impaled her through the stomach. The other four soldiers that had been with him were strewn about in various places. Two had been cut to pieces, while the others had been crushed and exploded.

With a sigh, Clovis walked up to the barrier that had blocked the truck and studied it for a moment. A few seconds passed before the spell began to dissipate, the magic that had supported it slowly unravelling. Without looking back, Clovis climbed into the truck, started the engine, and drove away.

He still had a mission to complete.