Hot metallic poured from the two individuals. The crimson liquid covered the trenches. Canons fired in the distance. The tub and boom range out in a cadence that mirrored firing line being singled when to fire. Holes burst though rangers around Araris and his men. Stone, trees, and body parts flew in all directions.

His men were dying all around and, in the center, Araris was in the heat of the battle. In close quarters combat with himself versus another two then soon turned to one versus one. Neither person would give an inch. A struggle of strength and determination. Nothing more than a iron blade to do his bidding.

Araris sand his opponent danced. The entanglement feeling like years, but merely minutes. Each trust met with a counter. Soldiers' eyes glued to the fight. No one moved around the combatants. Sparks few and roars heightened.

Araris misstepped and all was for nothing. In a blink of an eye, the metal of his foe slammed though his creek…


Araris jumped from the bed. The roar could be heard for a mile. The man ripped the lamp from the dresser and charged forward, as his other handheld his face.

The nightmare never ended…

He sank down. His head lends forward in defeat. Was this never going to end?