Oh shit, it's been a month. Hopefully I won't do this again.

Quixotic was halfway through his seventh round of beers, in an effort to "keep his cover," when the first cannonball struck. At first, he thought the loud blasts in his ear were a sign he had drank too much. However, when the other residents of the bar ran to the windows and doors to see or escape what made the noise, he became convinced something much worse than a headache was happening outside.

The spy walked out the doors of the bar, looking at the horizon, watching as a large hole was blown in the city walls. Another cannonball passed through the opening, seemingly directly at him. Quixotic turned and ran, expecting the projectile to land where he was standing.

Instead, it landed on the bar, setting it ablaze and collapsing it under the force of the explosion. Quixotic suddenly became extremely focused, his alcohol-addled mind experiencing a rush of adrenaline as he sized up the situation. He decided to run.

The agent sprinted through the alleyways of the city, screams barraging his ears as the city walls to his left suddenly collapsed. He turned down an alleyway and nearly slammed into a small squad of soldiers.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. I-" Quixotic's eyes drifted down to the sigil they had emblazoned on their shields. A scythe, going through two circular, six-pointed stars. Nuts and Dolts. Suddenly, Quixotic connected the dots.

"Get him!" Quixotic turned and ran, several of the men hot on his heels. He turned a corner, his momentum almost carrying him to the ground as he ran down another street. Up ahead was a platoon of Bumblebee soldiers brandishing their weapons at the invaders. Quixotic stopped as his pursuers retreated and disappeared into the blazing streets.

"Are you alright, son?" The commander, an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard approached him and rested his hand on Quixotic's shoulder. Quixotic nodded. "Good. We're rallying the civilians for a counterattack. If we can get the residents of the city on our side, we can push them out of here!"

"I don't think so!"

The shrill, mechanical voice of a man resounded from the rooftops, drawing the attention of the entire group to the source of the noise. A man, garbed in peculiar armor, descended and landed in front of the group, alien weapons in his hands. Covering his head was a strange helmet; the bottom half was fully metal with incisions about an inch apart spread across the jawline. The top half was leather, melded or sewn to the steel jaw guard, with two wide, lifeless holes where the eyes should be. He—or rather, it—stood up from its landing position, surveying its opposition through the bleak holes in his helmet. A deep, hellish breathing emanated from the being, hauntingly in sync with Quixotic's own. One of the younger soldiers crossed himself at the sight of it. "It must be a demon." He leveled his blade at it. "Begone, evil spirit!" At this the figure cackled, its laughter tainted and rendered inhuman and mechanical through the influence of it mask. "Come now, my friends. Since I am a sensible fellow, I shall give each of you one chance to run. You can flee, wisely, or you can stay, fight and die. Your choice."

Three of the younger soldiers sheathed their swords and turned tail, the cowards skittering back into the half-lit ruins of the city. The rest of the soldiers angled their weapons at the demon as Quixotic defiantly readied the dagger his overseer had given him for self-defense.

"You may be foolish, but your bravery is admirable. For this, your deaths will be quick."

It was like a whirlwind. Almost instantly, Quixotic found himself splattered in blood as the heads of four soldiers behind him separated from their bodies. The demon spun his blades around, stabbing the unfortunate sergeant before slashing the throats of the other two survivors. Quixotic gave no heed as he ran as fast as he could to escape the carnage.

"Run, little mouse! Run!" The sound of near-unhinged laughter pierced his ears as Quixotic tried to put as much distance as he could between himself and the beast chasing him. He rounded another corner in the seemingly endless, burning labyrinth of the business section in the hopes he could evade his pursuer.

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. When he looked up, he saw a heavily-armored behemoth of a man, dressed in armor that reminded him of accounts of the Orient. Quixotic's confusion turned to terror as he realized the man was not wearing Bumblebee heraldry, his dread increasing as the heard deep, labored breaths of the assassin coming from behind him. He clutched his dagger as he stood up and pressed himself up against the wall, trying to keep away from his potential killers.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

"The mouse ran into a dead end. A pity, I would have preferred not to waste my time on you. Shall we, Greatness?"

"Let's."

Quixotic closed his eyes and prepared for the end. It did not come. A man ran out of the smoke and body-slammed the large one from behind, sending him to the ground with a painful crack. The thin one readied his swords and leaped at the man, swinging wildly, only for his flurry of strikes to be deflected.

"I see I've outdone myself this time. Tell me, what does that engraving say?"

"Die in ignorance!"

Jokey began swiping and swinging at Quixotic's rescuer, resuming the fight. Out of the corner of his eye, Quixotic noticed that the man his rescuer had knocked down was standing once again, poised to attack. Without thinking, Quixotic drew his hand back and hurled the knife, watching as it flew across the alley. The hulking warrior stopped suddenly, watching as the dagger narrowly missed him and embedded itself in the side of a house. Greatness looked at the young man, a look of surprise and anger on his face. It turned itself into a face of resolve as he drew his curved lance from his back and charged.

Quixotic just barely dodged it, throwing himself out of the way and somersaulting away from the commander as he heard the weapon collide with the house behind him. Greatness leaned in and planted his feet to remove the blade, lodged in the bricks by the sheer force of the blow. Quixotic turned to the rescuer, who drew a second blade from a sheathe on his back and tossed it to Quixotic. He caught it and took a swing at Greatness, only for the blade to be knocked from his hands as he finally dislodged the lance from the building.

Quixotic dove for the sword, neatly recovering and dodging another one of Greatness' heavy swings. He grabbed the blade and backed up, bumping into his ally as they both watched their respective opponents walk menacingly towards them.

"What's the plan?"

The man grunted. "Either we surrender and die, or we fight and die."

The demon once again rallied and charged, forcing them backwards. Quixotic had the presence of mind to notice Greatness winding up for a swing and tackled his friend to the ground as they were backed up to a wall.

"I don't like either of those."

Almost immediately, the portion of the city wall directly above them exploded as a cannonball struck the wall and rained debris on the four. The acrobatic one backflipped away from the shower of displaced bricks. The other one kneeled and raised his heavily armored arms to guard his face. Sensing an opportunity, Quixotic turned to his new ally.

"Third option?"

He nodded. "Third option."

They tore across the rock-covered street, vaulting themselves over the small remaining portion of the wall and sprinting across the battlefield. Amidst the screaming, writhing masses of people throwing themselves at each other, they came across a lone horse, lost and without a rider. The swordsman pulled himself up onto the horse first before helping Quixotic up onto the back.

"I know this might be a bad time, but what's your name?"

"Gwydion. Yours?"

"Quixotic."

Gwydion lashed the horse into a gallop, bolting across the battlefield as fast as they could. They made their way to the outskirt roads, away from the fighting. As they passed a small barn, a Bumblebee soldier took notice of the Arkos horse and fired an arrow at it, piercing the animal straight through the eye. The steed reared up, bucking both of its riders off before galloping away blindly.

Gwydion stood up and leaped out of the way as another arrow narrowly missed his leg. He pulled Quixotic up from the ground before fleeing. A third arrow imbedded itself in the side of the barn as they ran into it.

Inside the barn were three men. Two were standing in the back, one was younger and wore a Guns and Roses emblem on his armor, the other was an older man dressed in peasant's clothing. Facing them was a man completely covered in armor, wielding a halberd. He turned to face the two men who had suddenly appeared behind him.

"Well. More lambs to the slaughter."

"I think not!" The young man across the space yelled. "You're outnumbered four to one. You're the one in danger here."

The helmeted figure leaned his head back and laughed heartily. "You've got spirit, boy. Too bad you don't have brains." He lifted his halberd off his shoulder and let the blade it the ground. "I'm sorry I have to do this. But I have my orders."

Quixotic let out an adrenaline-fueled howl and charged the warrior, only to be struck in the chest with the blunt end of the long weapon. The captain spun in a circle, knocking Gwydion and the Gunnian recruit two the ground, allowing him to focus on the peasant with the worn cavalry saber.

"That's a big sword you got there. Compensating for something?" He laughed tauntingly as he dodged a swing from the long weapon.

"You move fast for an old man."

"You think slow for an officer."

The old man laughed again as he somersaulted away from another of the officer's crushing blows.

"Give up. What do you have that I don't?"

The peasant let the sword drop to his side, grinning as he did so.

"Experience." He chuckled slightly. "And three extra soldiers."

Gwydion and the Gunnian soldier attacked in unison, forcing the knight backwards as he struggled to block both of their strikes. He grabbed the body of his blade again, swinging in a wide arc before him, forcing his adversaries back.

Quixotic had recovered, angling his sword at the captain, standing beside his fellow fighters despite the throbbing pain of internal bleeding in his chest. The officer sized up his new situation, changing his stance from an offensive one to a defensive one.

"Give up. You have no chance of leaving here alive."

The captain chuckled deviously. "I have a better chance than you think." He unbuckled a small grenade from his belt and pulled the pin.

The Gunnian recruit gasped in horror, barely managing to utter a single word.

"Run!"

All four of them dove backwards in unison, listening as the bomb exploded behind them and emitted a sickly green gas. All of them covered their faces with their shirts, crawling out of the barn into open, fresh air.

They stood and frantically dusted themselves off as the gas mingled with the crisp night air. In the distance, they heard the whinny of a horse, and saw the officer ride off into the darkness. Quixotic pointed in the direction of the fleeing knight, waving his arm uselessly as he used the other one to clutch his chest.

"We have to go after him!"

The older man placed his hand on Quixotic's shoulder. "No, we need to move. The Bumblebee garrison can't hold out for much longer. The city is lost, so unless you wish to count yourself among the dead, follow me!"

Quixotic stood motionless, utterly silent before nodding and turning. The four ran around the side of the barn, and finding two horses conveniently tied to a hitching post, cut their tethers and climbed onto them. The old man and Gwydion took the reins, and casting one last wayward glance towards the burning metropolis, whipped their horses into a gallop, and vanished into the night.