Startled by the attack, Marcus dropped his rifle.

 

He came to his senses with great pain. Everything hurt. His lungs burned. His vision swam. He looked at the cut on his arm. It seemed okay. Later, he thought.

 

He sat up on the ground and looked at his abdomen. The finger-sized ice shard was still inside. It was both blocking the blood and reducing the pain. A strange mercy. If he pulled it out he would bleed to death.

 

When he tried to reach for his weapon, he was startled again. A blow struck near his head. An enhanced soldier of Malachar, dueling with a Defender, had thrown his opponent to the side of Marcus.

 

The Defender rose, and Marcus recognized him as one of the camp's juniors.

 

"Karlin." He called.

 

The boy was even younger than Tom and smaller. Just a kid. He shouldn't be here.

 

"Sorry Marcus." Karlin said. Then he rushed his opponent.

 

But the enhanced was too much for him. He punched Karlin to the ground again. And now the enhanced was looking at Marcus.

 

Marcus tried to reach his rifle. But the enhanced was too quick. With a knee kick he sent Marcus flying two yards back. Marcus was lying on his back, trying his hardest to stay conscious. He felt blood in his mouth and then a loose tooth. His jaw throbbed.

 

Marcus raised his head. The enhanced was walking toward him to finish the job. His massive frame blocked out the sky. His eyes glowed with unnatural light.

 

"You are the strange boy, huh? Two-worlder. We heard you were dead."

 

When he was about to land a clean, full-enhanced punch, Karlin interfered and redirected the blow. The kid was back on his feet, putting himself between Marcus and death.

 

Marcus was trying to get his weapon. He looked around. Everyone was fighting someone. No one could come to help.

 

The enhanced threw Karlin to the ground once again. And Marcus witnessed one of the most brutal acts of murder he had ever seen.

 

The enhanced grabbed Karlin's head. Twisted.

 

The snap of his neck echoed across the battlefield. Bones broke through the skin. Blood poured out.

 

Karlin was dead.

 

Marcus wanted to run. He wasn't even thinking about reaching for his rifle anymore. What am I doing here? he thought. I am not a hero. I am just a pathetic kid from Chicago.

 

If he wasn't in shock he would have cried. But there was no sound coming out of his body. Just silence and terror.

 

The enhanced was now rushing toward Marcus. He was nearly as big as Tom. One clean hit would kill him.

 

When he was near and readying his fist, a portal opened.

 

Numan walked through with a surprised face. With him, Commander Cain and Sister Korra entered.

 

Commander Cain acted quickly. He swung his sword at the enhanced's leg. The giant flinched and looked back. But he really wanted to kill Marcus first. He jumped at Marcus.

 

Rifle shots cut the air.

 

The enhanced collapsed. Dead eyes staring at Marcus.

 

Numan was standing there with a surprised face, holding the rifle, his hands still on the trigger. He had never killed anyone before. His face was pale. His hands shook.

 

But he had saved Marcus's life.

 

"Marcus, are you alright?" Sister Korra rushed to him. Her healing aura started to replenish Marcus's wounds. Warmth spread through his body as the pain began to fade.

 

Commander Cain looked at Marcus and asked if he was okay. When Marcus gave him a thumbs up, Commander Cain ran toward Captain Harwick.

 

Marcus thanked Sister Korra and looked at Numan with questioning eyes.

 

"They came to the wall." Numan explained, still shaken. "I didn't understand what they were saying. And when the portal girl opened it, I wanted to come."

 

Marcus coughed. Tasted blood. "I am glad you came." He forced a smile. "Sister, go to Captain Harwick and coordinate an attack on the elephant. We need Malachar on the ground. The machine cannot stop his influence from this distance. Once we put one near him he will become useless."

 

"I am on it." Sister Korra rushed toward the archers.

 

Marcus looked toward the main battle. Tom was moving through it like a force of nature. His enhanced body shrugged off blows that would kill normal men. His transmuted blade-hands carved paths through enemy soldiers.

 

"Enhanced ahead!" Tom shouted. "Four of them!" He was giving orders to other Defenders now, leading them like a general.

 

"Numan, can you operate the rifle?" Marcus asked. He stood up, limping.

 

"Yes."

 

"Follow me then."

 

They pushed forward together. Malachar's elite guard met them. Men and women twisted by the same magic that flowed through Tom, but corrupted. Their eyes glowed with unnatural light. Their movements were too fast. Too strong.

 

Tom crashed into them. For the first time, he met his match. Four against one. All equally enhanced.

 

Marcus caught up to Tom. "We are here brother."

 

"GO!" Tom roared, grappling with two attackers. "I'll hold them!"

 

"Tom..."

 

"MARCUS, GO!"

 

A massive figure appeared beside them. Han the Iron Eater. The Defenders' most dangerous warrior. His arm transformed, skin rippling into gleaming steel.

 

"The boy's right." Han growled. "Malachar ends today. Get to him. We'll handle these demons."

 

Marcus ran. Behind him, he heard the clash of enhanced versus enhanced. Tom's battle cry. Han's roaring laughter.

 

He didn't look back.

 

The elephant loomed ahead. Arrows had brought it to its knees. The great beast groaned and swayed, its massive form crumpling. Malachar had dismounted, surrounded by his remaining mages.

 

Lightning arced toward Marcus. He dived and rolled. Numan fired toward them. The rifle's crack was lost in the battle's roar, but the bullet found its mark. A mage's chest exploded. Another shot. Another mage fell.

 

"YOU." Malachar's voice cut through the chaos. "You should be DEAD."

 

His remaining mage shot a lightning ray at Numan. Numan fell to the ground, deeply in pain. His body convulsed. But the mage was panting, clearly pushing himself to his limits.

 

Marcus picked up the rifle from Numan. He aimed at the mage but walked toward him instead. With the back of the rifle he knocked him unconscious.

 

No more killing than necessary.

 

Then Malachar moved.

 

A giant bird-like shape-shifter swooped down. It picked up Malachar and started flying away from Drakmoor. Away from the battle. Toward the distant woods.

 

They were running.

 

Marcus burst out with his rifle at the flying deserters. He heard a couple of screams. He emptied his clip, watching the dark shape grow smaller against the smoke-filled sky.

 

Some of the bullets found their mark.

 

The bird-thing wobbled. Started to descend toward the forest.

 

Marcus looked back at Numan. His cousin was still in pain but gave him a thumbs up.

 

"Go Marcus go." Numan said through gritted teeth. "Don't let him run."

 

Marcus changed his last clip. Made sure the mind-freeing machine on him was still active.

 

And started running with a limp and great exhaustion toward the woods.

 

Toward Malachar.

 

Toward the end.