Grimsley settled into the seat of his Goliath-killer tank. With the starting of the engine and the familiar vibrations running through his body, Grimsley was able to finally tune out Ronald's incessant chattering and could focus on what was at hand: the war.

With his new squad that had him teamed up with Carla and Theo, things were looking bright. He would see action, finally, and would be a part of a group that could protect and guide him, as the three of them strove to take down every last Goliath on the theatre of war. At long last, it was time for Grimsley to fulfill his destiny and become a hero.

The steel gates ground open, releasing the three tanks out into the plains in front of Narrius, the last rays of a setting sun streaking across the sky. Amidst the different hues of dusk, Grimsley swore he spotted a purple streak flash through the air before disappearing, but he thought nothing of it. Maybe just a reflective trick of the light coming in through the viewscreens.

It didn't matter anymore because this was the chance he had been waiting for. This would be his moment of glory. This...

"All units return to Narrius immediately." The intercom within the tank cut into Grimsley's thoughts, bursting the bubble he had created in his mind. An order to withdraw? But he had finally made it to his dream!

Carla repeated the command until Grimsley begrudgingly complied and turned his Goliath-killer around. "Carla what's going on?" Grimsley asked.

"It seems as though the battle is over for the day," she answered. "Rumour is that General Marian himself showed up and brought down an entire warship, scaring the Artisans away."

"That's a spot 'o bad luck, right sonny?" Ronald said from behind Grimsley.

The soldier ground his teeth together and fumed. If it hadn't been for that sideshow with the Red Scarf Gang Grimsley would've not only made it to the war but he would've also been able to see a mighty Brigadier General and legend in action. Instead it would be sitting around the hangar bay tuning up the tank until tomorrow.

The three vehicles returned inside the gates of the steel city, their weapons' barrels drooping a little lower in disappointment. As they pulled into their spaces to shut down, Carla relayed a new order to them. "Hold up boys. New assignment. Sounds like something is happening inside the city, just outside the base. Escaped prisoner."

"Then let the infantry handle them," Theo said. "How would we get involved with that; we hardly fit on the main streets of Narrius."

"I agree with you Theo," their commander replied. "But they want tanks."

* * * * *

Ralph Thiden whistled a little self-fabricated tune to himself as he walked along the hallway in the prison of Narrius. Many of the new prisoners of war were being thrown in here, mixing with the scum of the Enian Federation, and Ralph didn't mind any of them.

As far as Ralph was concerned, as long as they were behind these bars, prisoners were prisoners and it was his job to make sure they didn't go anywhere. And, unknown to most people outside the system, it was one of the easiest jobs in the world. They still had plenty of space here to keep each person in their own cell, and nobody was really able to pass through the walls so it was a simple matter of the guards walking and watching.

Ralph came across another worker, Art, who did some of the cleaning and maintenance. At the moment, the janitor was going through a recently vacated cell and sanitizing it for the next occupant and was humming a song similar to Ralph's.

"Where'd you learn that one Art?"

"Don't know Ralph, just kind of came into my head this morning. Where's your from?"

"I made it up in the shower. That's kind of funny we both came up with almost the same song."

"Reminds me of a theory I heard once," Art mused. "Something about a collective consciousness. We all are connected or some idea like that."

"I didn't know you were into that kind of thing Art. You been skipping out on church?" Ralph nudged his companion in the ribs as he grinned. It was well known between the two men that Ralph had given up on religion a long time ago and showed up to a place of worship every so often in order to not be ostracized by society.

"Of course I do! I never miss a single prayer session. That's more than you could say."

Aw Art don't you get on my case now too about this. I make my choices, you know that." Ralph shook his head at his co-worker and continued on his route, resuming his song.

"I'll pray twice as hard for you Ralph, don't worry," Art called out behind the guard. "Saint Ishiyama will save your soul as well as long as you are living according to the principles." Ralph tuned out the words the janitor was yelling, as well as any other sounds.

The prison guard thought up a snappy remark to throw back and turned to see an empty hall, deathly silent. The prisoners were going to sleep now as night was falling and none of them were usually belligerent, particularly at this hour. Ralph shrugged. Art must've gone into the cell to clean again. Who needed these religious fanatics anyways?

Under Ralph's feet there were small vibrations in the floor. Above him the ceiling shook a little, and a couple flakes of rust came tumbling down. The guard blew them away. Living with all this steel and metal around couldn't be healthy, he thought.

The rattling grew stronger and deeper, shaking up into Ralph's ageing knees and nearly knocking him over. There were no warning sirens going off though, which meant it wasn't an attack. Could've been something happening at a steel mill or maybe an explosion from a foundry. While they were rare, it might even be an earthquake, but the foundations of these buildings were so solid it wouldn't do anything to them other than stir up those inside, like Ralph.

There was a creak in the metal, almost like it was tearing a bit, which was a bit disturbing to the guard. He reached down and grabbed his pistol. If the place really was coming down, it meant a lot of free men running around here who should be locked up. And it meant he would have to use his gun for once in his career outside of practice.

Suddenly the thick, steel wall to Ralph's left, tore open, breaking apart as a massive human fist burst through. The security guard felt his legs turn to jelly and give out once again as a pain shot up through his heart. His hand came off the gun at his waist and clutched at his chest instead as the panic attack set in.

The hand wrapped around his leg and yanked, dragging a screaming Ralph Thiden through the hole in the wall, never to be seen again...

* * * * *

The three members of the Thirty-First Special Armour Division stared down the main street of Narrius in disbelief. Even Ronald had twisted his body and head around inside the tank so that he could see the screens. And, for the first time as far as Grimsley knew, Ronald went silent.

Standing in the middle of the road, just outside of the prison complex, was a brooding, hulking, somewhat-human monstrosity. It looked like someone had stuffed too many muscles into a man, but hadn't done a very even job at the same time. It was about seven feet tall, with an over-pumped right arm that stuck out off the torso on an angle, the shoulder forced up higher to accommodate the size of the limb below. The hand on the end was as big as Grimsley's chest, with fingers resembling arms they were so thick and long.

The other side was where things got weird. While most of the right side of the body was puffed up, the left arm was the normal size of your average human, and the left leg, while still grossly over-inflated with bulk, was smaller than its right counterpart. The left arm hung limply, uselessly, while the corresponding leg had a bit of a limp to it.

This strange mutated human roared in ferocity, his orange eyes scouring over the area for more victims to exert its rage and will upon. It was already clutching the limp body of a hapless person and tossed it aside as though throwing paper. When it caught sight of the three tanks and numerous soldiers approaching it, its focus instantly turned to all of them, and a semi-intelligent smile grew on its face.

"So Carla," Grimsley said calmly.

"Yes Grimsley."

"You want to tell me what the hell that thing is?!" Panic slipped into the driver's voice as he finished the sentence and the initial stupefaction wore off. Ronald had already begun freaking out behind Grimsley, yelling out prayers and making different religious symbols at the screen. "I have to give some kind of answer to calm down this psychotic child behind me," Grimsley muttered.

"Ishiyama protect us," Theo cut in.

"Grimsley, I don't know what it is. The orders are coming through to kill it but otherwise we don't know. But it looks like a prisoner...or at one time it was." Carla was talking about the tatters of orange attire that thankfully clung to the mutant in specific areas that concealed certain parts.

"Kill it sonny, kill it!" Ronald screamed over Grimsley's shoulder.

"Well obviously I was going to you old coot!" Grimsley reached back and tried to strangle his engineer as the two began to wrestle and bang around inside the tank.

"Boys!" Carla yelled. "Stop it. You're supposed to be soldiers, and we have bigger problems to deal with. "

"Yes, Carla," the pair said in unison before turning back to their jobs.

"Oh Ishiyama." Grimsley's ears perked up as he heard Ronald starting a prayer. "Please have it so that when the giant evil creature comes and tears our tank in two, he only crushes the half with Grimsley in it and spares me-"

"Why you old!" Grimsley leapt back into the engineer's area and the fight began anew. The whole Goliath-killer shook and bumped around until a body banged off of it, having been thrown their way by the mutant. The two grabbed each other in fright and screamed like little children as the twisted face of a dead soldier was plastered all over the viewscreen.

"Quiet you cry babies, let's get to work here!" Carla tried to bring the pair of buffoons back to reality and the threat that was in front of them. "I have reports coming in that that is the captured prisoner of war, Major Orellia out there. But obviously he doesn't look like the one in the pictures here. "

"Yeah does anyone have an answer for that?" Grimsley asked.

"I can answer that," a sinister voice bellowed, and Grimsley trembled as he looked down towards the viewscreen to see the Major approaching, his psychotic smile plastered across his face. Orellia's newly enhanced ears were picking up all the chatter within the tanks, as well as a million other new sounds. "i am afraid that your feeble minds would not be able to fully grasp the nature of my being though, or appearance, or where I even come from. But if you want a simple answer, I can provide."

There was radio silence amidst the soldiers, the superiors giving orders hushing them all so that they could get their explanation. "Believe me if you want," Orellia continued, his morphed vocal chords barking out words that were heard almost all around the city. "I am a member of the society you know as the Jahari, walking amongst you. Bear witness to our power, to the things you have tried to forget, the stories you use to scare your children at night. We are all too real, and our power is absolute. But I don't need to explain this. You'll find out for yourselves soon enough. For now I have been instructed to return to my people, so I have to leave your confinement. Apologies for the damage." Grimsley thought he saw the Major wink as he said the last line and he braced himself.

"Please don't order to open fire," the pilot whispered. "Just let him go, let him go."

"Boys, open fire," Carla said over the intercom, and a hailstorm of bullets opened up from the infantrymen.

"Shit." Grimsley levelled his cannon and took aim at Orellia's face, with the mutant looking right back down the barrel and staring straight into the screen. This won't end well, Grimsley thought as he pressed down on the trigger button.