Yami continued to yell his battle cry as his kicks hit the pavement below. Water splattered about with each step as he held his sword low and ready, rushing the nearest Bishop. The pack was closing in around Mama now; he had to act fast. Yami’s pupils dilated into large black circles as he closed on his prey.

The Bishop faced down Yami, holding his mace high, lunging at the young Anthro-Cat. Yami sidestepped his attack with incredible speed, sliding to the right and slashing upwards at the Bishop’s neck. Water trickled from his blade.

The sword hit its target true, landing on the Bishop’s neck. A flash of blue covered the fanatic. The shield protected the man. His breastplate burned bright red, sizzling away at the flesh beneath.

Yami screamed and pushed with all his might. The Gellys were trash, so was their faith. He figured the shields would stop his blade, they stopped his bullets and Mama’s slugs. At least this way, he would go out as a badass. They would hail him as the warrior of Carpetree, he who cuts down his foes with a sword, the Gelly Slayer. It was a happy thought, probably his last.

“Hyahh!” He screamed and pushed.

The sword bit through the shield and sliced clean through the Bishop’s neck, like a hot knife through butter. The Bishop’s eyes went wide as his head tumbled down. He tried to mouth something, but only a cheap moan escaped his lips.

Yami stood wide-stanced and bewildered. What just happened? It actually worked? He quickly looked up to Mama, who was dodging several Bishops now.

“Big Mama, cutting works! Grab a sword, anything!” Yami turned to face his next opponent, a Bishop without his breastplate.

Mama scoffed as she jumped back, shielding her face from debris blasting from the roadside, “I don’t need swords when I’ve got these, deary!” She flexed her paws and four-inch, razor sharp claws shot out from her fingers. Mama smiled at Yami. He was a good boy for coming back for her.

The feelings of joy and pride coursed through her. She roared into the sky and charged the nearest Bishop. His breastplate was left behind on the roadside. He was the first one she shot, and would be the first one she gutted. She swiped hard and fast, slashing with all her might. His mace swung down, trying to get one hit off on the bear, just one would end her life.

The claws connected at his chest first, his arm failing about as he flew back, his chest slashed open, ribs exposed, guts trailing down to the road below. He refused to scream. The pain was a gift from God, something to be relished. He slammed down on the street, bouncing once before his mind started to drift away.

Yami didn’t wait for his opponent to strike first. It was not the way of the swordsman. Yami slashed out. The Bishop stepped back, using his mace as a shield from the many, unskilled attacks. He was careful now without that armor. Yami wasn’t nearly as imposing as the massive bear, he had to rely on the skill he didn’t really have. He grabbed the sword at HQ because it looked cool. Now, it saved his life.

The Bishop jumped back and swung his mace at a concrete barrier nearby. It slammed into the barrier, blasting chunks of rock at Yami. The young anthro dove for cover, shielding his head from debris. Rocks blasted all around him, slamming into ruined cars and bouncing off the burning truck.

The Bishop rushed forward in the distraction, jumping in the air. Yami rolled on his back, holding his sword upwards reflexively. The Bishop landed right on the sword. It stabbed clean through is chest. The power mace fell from his hand, dropping to the street and clattering before the hum died off.

He slid forward on the blade, collapsing on top of Yami. “God take me to the highest heaven.” He whispered out as blood trickled from his lips.

“Ahh, gross, get off!” Yami squirmed and kicked, trying to get out from under the body.

Mama swung her claws back and forth, keeping the Bishops at bay. She was outnumbered by four Bishops. The fifth was pulling himself up next to the building, unstrapping the breastplate; the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. It would just be a moment before they closed in on her from all sides.

“Watch it, Big Mama!”

Mama caught the glimpse of a humming mace flying through the air, crashing into an armored Bishop. His breastplate flashed red, then exploded, propelling metal shrapnel across the battlefield. His body quickly twisted and flew into the building, crashing into a window. Blood trickled down the side as he hung from the window well, limp and lifeless.

“Shit.” Yami whispered as he ran to Mama’s side.

There were four of them left now. They paced out evenly, waiting to strike. Their headstrong devoting was wavering now. They had to be careful and tactical, wait for the right moment to strike. Their tactics of overwhelming the enemy had failed. They underestimated the big, hairy devil and her filthy minion.

Wind whipped up around them. Engines roared, the sound bouncing around the street. This time, louder and steadier. The Bishop’s dropship started to slowly cruise into view at the end of the street, rounding the corner like a menacing monster eyeballing you for dinner.

The Naval Officer glanced out the vid screens of the dropship. Four of his Bishops were dead already. The “Big Bear” was truly a monster to be dealt with. No wonder there was such an urgent prerogative to kill her.

He tapped the Pilot’s shoulder, “Move us in closer. Looks like they lost their weaponry. Let’s give them a salvo for good measure. I want this beast dead.”

“Affermative.” The Pilot edged the dropship closer to the battle. His guns fired off a few rockets. They blasted through the air right at Yami and Mama, landing behind them. The truck behind them exploded in an inferno of metal and scrap. The road was blocked off now, a fiery barrier keeping them from escaping.

The ship was creeping closer and the Bishops still remained steadfast.

Yami’s sword was trebling in his hands, “What’s the play, Mama?” His voice quaked with fear.

Mama was at a loss. They could only fight what was in front of them. She glanced around. There was nowhere to go now. The building nearby was filled with innocents still. If they ran inside, the dropship would level the building to the ground, killing everyone inside.

They couldn’t outrun a gunship. The Bishops were fast as well. It wouldn’t end well if they retreated.

Mama snorted in frustration. “First of all, thank you for coming back for me. Your mother raised you well. You should be proud.”

Yami gave a frightened smirk. “Thanks, Big Mama.”

“Second, we can only fight what’s in front of us. There’s nothing else to do.”

Yami nodded. Fear was coursing through his body, only his courage was holding him together. “Let’s do it.”

He rushed forward, slashing at a nearby Bishop. The warrior continued to keep his distance, drawing out Yami into a bad position. A second Bishop pushed in and swung at Yami, catching him off-guard.

Mama stepped in, swinging hard at the Bishop, blasting him away. The backswing caught Mama in the arm. A terrible shockwave blasted through her arm, aching every fiber of her being. She yelled out in pain, falling to her knees, holding her arm tight. It felt like every bone in her arm had been crushed into powder.

A Bishop sung down at Yami, but the Anthro-Cat swung upwards, cutting clean through his shield, and arm, severing it from his body. Yami didn’t hesitate as he stabbed right into the Bishops throat, not letting him catch a moment of respite.

The two unarmored Bishops pushed in now that there was a clear opening on Mama. They rose their maces high, “As God wills, we act!”

Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack.

Blood burst from their bodies as gunfire rang out from the building nearby. Yami looked up to the windows. The terrified mother from before was aiming the officer’s pistol out at the Bishops, smoke wisping from the barrel. She yelped and dropped the gun, disappearing back into the building.

There was one Bishop now. The drop ship was just upon them. It’s guns began to spin.

Yami stepped in front of Mama, holding his sword directly in front of him. He would protect her with every last fiber of his being.

The Naval Officer chuckled in amusement, “Pathetic. Let them feel the wrath of God.” He gazed down on the Antrho-Cat and Bear. They would soon be nothing but a terrible, hazy memory.