The Sand Dollar swooped to evade the swarm of Alcontean fighters. Sila and Hannah had come to the realization that focusing on destroying the Alcontean air support was an endless and futile battle, as more seemed to materialize from thin air as time went on. Engaging them, they'd concluded, was merely succumbing to the trap. 

Once in range, the Sand Dollar's turrets rained a few rockets down on the nearly-forgotten tanks. Flames rippled over the metal plating, but the vehicles continued their advance. One tank's shell succeeded in making impact on the iron skeleton, and it tore out a trio of large panels, leaving a gaping hole behind. 

The Sand Dollar barrel-rolled to minimize the effectiveness of the fighter jets' constant barrage. Then the ship made a tight vertical loop and skimmed just over the tanks. Laser beams poured out of the turrets as they passed over, and with the close proximity, two tanks succumbed to the immense heat. 

The vessel banked right to destroy the last tank, only for a missile to speed in from behind. Sila gunned the ship's engines and began an upward climb. The soldiers manning the turrets struggled to hit the missile, but the bullets that would have hit the mark bounced off an invisible forcefield. 

With that, the Sand Dollar made another loop, swooping dangerously close to the ground at the end of its descent. Then with a boost of speed, it cleared the area as the missile hit the remaining tank. Hannah cheered inside as a giant explosion consumed the armored vehicle behind them. Sila, meanwhile, positioned the ship to engage the Alconteans once more. 

******************** 

Brant swung and hacked at the enemy hordes surrounding him. With a double-bladed sword in one hand and a buckler in the other, he sliced down Alcontean soldiers before they found time to pull their guns' triggers. In the rare event a single man got off a shot, his quick reflexes assisted an evasive move. He more often utilized his shield to assist an Insurgent soldier who had fired amiss than actual defense. 

Wendy dominated the air-space immediately above the battling throng. She frequently emptied her quiver on the soldiers below. When she descended to retrieve her fallen projectiles, she took the opportunity to pass out bruising blows in abundance. Once all arrows had been stowed back into the quiver, she ascended again and repeated the cycle. 

Brant's brow furrowed when the lighting above him abruptly changed. An unofficial ceasefire ensued as everybody on the battlefield stopped to investigate the unnatural shift. 

All clouds in the sky swirled around a central point, a small circle where the blue sky shone through. Their rotation increased in momentum as they drew closer and closer to the clearing. 

A white-robed man floated down from the opening, his progress slow and steady. Brant growled at the sight of him. The shield in his left hand disappeared, and the sword in his right morphed into a two-handed battle axe. He clenched his jaw. This is it. Let's show him. 

Wendy fired an arrow at the levitating man, but the shaft swirled in an upward spiral around him until it disappeared into the clouds. The bullets that followed from the Insurgent soldiers vanished in similar fashion. 

With a shrug, the Alconteans recommenced firing on the rebels, resulting in multiple deaths. Screams of agony and rage alike erupted across the field as the battle resumed. Brant only gave the hostilities a fragment of his attention, still more interested in Dove's casual descent than anything else. 

Before Dove's feet could touch the ground, Brant lunged forward and swung his mighty axe over his head. Dove smirked and rotated to avoid the blow, his arms crossed defiantly as he did so. Brant's blow instead split the skull of an Alcontean soldier who had been standing behind the god. 

Brant grimaced. He swung another blow, which Dove also evaded. The god finally landed and stretched out his hand. A wind flushed over Brant's face, temporarily rendering breathing difficult, but he stood his ground. 

Once the wind subsided, he growled and leapt at his foe again. Dove's hand made a sweeping motion. Then Brant's eyes widened as a gust swept him off course and forced him back a long distance, what must have been a quarter mile. His flight only ended when he hit a tree. 

With a grunt, Brant fell to the ground, gasping when he realized he had dropped his axe somewhere along the way. The once-mighty weapon now lay as a heaping pile of ashes on the ground. When an earsplitting snap resounded behind him, his head darted back. He rolled to avoid the falling trunk. 

Brant hardly gained a second to catch his breath before Dove landed several feet away. A full-body shield appeared in Brant's hand, which he planted into the ground just in time as an overwhelming blast of wind rushed his way. The grass around him fluttered, and eventually tore off in chunks at the gust, but with his shield's assistance, Brant held his ground. 

The moment Dove let his hand down, Brant stepped forward and sharpened the edge of his shield just before it made impact with the white-robed man's jaw. Blood leapt from the laceration. A moment later, Dove's foot met Brant's exposed chest. 

Brant stabbed the point of his shield into the ground, and as before, withstood the blustery storm sent his way. Then he smirked. Wendy zoomed in from behind and landed a brutal kick on the back of Dove's neck. He spun to throw a punch at her, which she blocked, and not without returning one of her own. 

Dove waved his hand. An unused grenade flew off a dead soldier's belt. Wendy rocketed up to avoid it. In the air, however, her movement proved easy to manipulate. The white-robed man threw her high into the air, only to push her down with crushing force into the dirt. 

Brant stamped down on Dove's leg in his moment of distraction. He grunted and blasted the shield-wielder back once more. Brant tumbled through the air helplessly, his body flailing in whatever way his opponent wished. He retracted the shield so as not to drop it. 

Brant finally landed with a rustling crunch in a cluster of bushes. He groaned and pulled himself to his feet. He peeked over the top of the bush and widened his eyes at the sight of the Sand Dollar swooping over Dove, strafing him with a never-ending stream of bullets and rockets. 

Every single projectile swerved off course as Dove flung them all into the iron skeleton. Enormous chunks of the dome gave way as explosions rippled across the rounded surface. Finally, Dove levitated the broken tree trunk and impaled the Sand Dollar. The ship plummeted to the ground, hitting with a crunch and a thud. Its form became unrecognizable as the impact morphed it into a mangled mass of crushed metal. 

With a wave of his hand, Dove cleared the cloud of smoke hovering around the impact points on the iron skeleton. Brant's hand met his mouth as he saw a whole quarter of the protective dome demolished, its edges frayed and supporting beams sagging. 

Brant inhaled and leapt out of his hiding place. He charged at Dove again with an axe in one hand and a shield in the other. Dove carelessly blew him right back into the bushes, immediately shifting his attention elsewhere. 

"Brant, get in here, now!" Aaron's voice demanded through Brant's earpiece. 

Brant frowned. "Why?" 

"We've got a breach back in the west wing! Hundreds of Alconteans pouring in!" 

"Forget the west wing. There's a gaping hole in the east—" 

"I don't give a rip about some east wing!" Aaron shouted, "Soldiers are in here destroying everything in sight, pushing to the medical bay!" 

"Strategically speaking—" 

"Forget strategy!" Aaron said, his voice sounding desperate. "Please, my sister's in here." 

Brant sighed and glanced at Dove across the field. Then he swept his eyes over to the path leading to the west wing, and the hordes of soldiers charging inside. He repeatedly shifted his gaze between the two. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. 

He charged at Dove again, this time remaining out of the range of his foe's peripheral vision. He swung his axe blade at his shoulder, but Dove heard the rush of wind. With a jerk of his hand, he threw a gust of his own Brant's way. 

Brant created a heavy dumbbell to weigh himself down and quicken his landing. Once his feet hit the ground, it morphed back into a shield, and he ran at Dove again. When his opponent's hand raised, he rolled to avoid the gust and continued his advance. 

"Thou art no match for me!" Dove shouted, blasting Brant back yet again. "Hast thy intellect verily become so impaired thou seest it not?" 

Brant gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. "You're gonna learn what fear is today, Zoko." 

With that, he charged again. 

******************** 

Aaron and Baird battled their way down a corridor inside the stronghold's west wing. Hordes of Alcontean soldiers clogged the hallways and resisted their attempts to advance to the medical bay. 

Aaron held a thick shield in his left hand and guarded himself with it while holding a specially-made incendiary pistol in his right. He fired the gun through a rectangular gap near the top of the shield and watched as his flaming bullets penetrated Alconteans' skin and caught fire shortly after. 

Meanwhile, Baird erupted into the firing masses with a flying kick. The crowd parted before him as men tumbled into one another like dominoes. Rage and bullets alike flew back at him, but with nimble footwork, he dodged and swung his sparking blade at them. He stabbed into one man's chest, and electricity hopped over his skin as he convulsed his way off the blade. His corpse tripped another soldier right into Aaron's line of fire. 

"Steady yourself." Baird snapped at Aaron as he punched another Alcontean's jaw. 

Aaron nodded and swiftly moved to comply. He crouched and planted his feet in the ground. 

With that, Baird leapt back into Aaron, bounced off his stabilized shield, and flew into the horde of soldiers with a great velocity. Those who hadn't fallen to his mighty kick soon tasted the horrors of experiencing a slice from his blade. 

Aaron took a step forward, planted himself again, and fired at a brute who reached out to attack Baird while he was unaware. The brawny man screamed out and clutched his burning shoulder. Aaron aimed to take another shot, but the gun clicked and released no projectile. He rolled his eyes and slipped it back into the holster. With a grunt, he charged forward and rammed into the pesky crowd. He grinned as they toppled over and tumbled about like helpless dolls. 

Baird slid between two soldiers' legs and raced over to Aaron. He hid behind his shield as an Alcontean holding a flamethrower stepped forward. Aaron slid a panel of glass over the opening in his shield and warded off the hungry flames. 

Once the man came close enough, Baird bolted out from cover, ran at the wall, and flipped off of it. His foot met the flamethrower-wielding soldier's leg with a crunch, and his stream of fire ended. Baird stooped down, grabbed the incendiary weapon, and tossed it to Aaron. He received the shield in return, along with a grin from his friend. Aaron raced forward and burned a path through enemy lines. 

A few minutes later, the pair finally made it to the medical bay. Aaron flung the door open, knocking out an Alcontean soldier in the process. Baird removed another man's hand with a quick slash as he reached out to unplug one patient's breathing machine. Then he snatched a third soldier off a bed who crawled over to a helpless woman with his pants halfway down. He threw him into a chokehold until he passed out. 

Baird and Aaron raced down the line of beds, most of which were empty. Their eyes frantically searched for one person in particular. They rounded a corner and glanced over another row, still with no success. 

Once they rounded a third corner, they both gasped. Underneath one bed with tousled and torn sheets waited Keira's shoes. They both overturned everything in the area for more signs of her presence, or dreaded absence, but found nothing. 

Aaron's eyes snapped to a balding doctor who cowered under a nearby table. He stomped over, hurled the table aside, and snatched the man up by his neck. He pinned him against a wall and stared intensely into his eyes. 

"What happened here?" he demanded. 

"Aaron, calm down." Baird pleaded, "He's one of ours." 

Aaron gave the martial artist a sharp glance out of the corner of his eye, but refused to comply. 

"They...they came in here!" the doctor said. "Took whatever they wanted! Whomever, too!" 

Aaron growled. "Who's 'they'?" 

"Who else?" the man spat. 

Baird grabbed Aaron's wrist and forced it down. "Let him go." 

With a noisy intake and release of air, he finally complied. "They took my sister, didn't they?" 

"Frankly, I don't know who—" 

"Keira!" Aaron said, "Keira Korynn!" 

"I have no clue, sir, I'm sorry." 

"This is all Brant's fault!" Aaron roared. He marched over to one of the beds and hurled it at the wall, causing immense damage to both. "Where's he at?" 

Baird stepped over and plopped down onto the next bed before Aaron could pick it up as well. "He probably just couldn't make it through the crowds of—" 

"Don't give me rubbish like that! I've seen that guy's swing before, and I know they wouldn't be a problem for him. It's not that he couldn't come. He wouldn't!" 

"Maybe so." Baird conceded, biting his lip. 

Without announcement, Aaron charged out of the room, slamming the door behind him so hard that it shattered into several splintery pieces. Baird and the doctor glanced at one another with wrinkled foreheads.

******************** 

A/N: Everything's bad over here, am I right? The battle's intensified, Dove's here, and Aaron's pissed. What more could possibly go wrong? 

Well, you could not vote and/or comment, and that'd be pretty terrible, so how about we avert that crisis? 😉😂 

Alright, so also, I'm screeching, because this is the second to last chapter! One more, and the Iron Skeleton is complete! 

But onto questions, what'd you think of that Aaron and Baird teamwork? 

And most importantly of all, describe thy current attire. 

(It's a lazy Saturday morning here, so I'm decked out in my worn-out but comfortable "home jeans", underwear obviously, and a wrinkled t-shirt, again, something I wouldn't wear out, but it serves fine enough for sitting in bed on my laptop at 6 in the morning.) 

You know, I'm actually so excited to finish this book out that I'm gonna just post the last chapter right now. So sit tight for a minute, or if you've gotta go for a while, have a great one! I'll see you in the final update.