The air was choked with sweat and dust, while the earth threw chunks of itself up into the air faster than thinking. Projectiles ate away at the ground, while others found their mark. Men lived, while others died.

Mostly the latter.

Just miles away, the coast was tinged with red. The horizon was occupied with metallic silhouettes, hulking death machines patrolling the waters, smoke cascading out of thin steel barrels. One ship’s weak spot had been found, and seconds later, it was all gone.

The rest commenced accordingly.

A continent away, bricks and plaster fell from buildings as ceaseless vibrations shook the ground. Vibrations from cannons, from gunfire, from heavier artillery. The sky burned black.

No sides were winning.

A woman ran out of a low compound thousands of miles to the east, tugging her child across the broken cobblestones as fire rained from the heavens. Manmade fire.

The last thing the child saw before the dense door bolted shut was his mother.

And one explosion.