Part One: Dawn of Battle

PacoVega had checked his equipment and made sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He had left early, as his speed wasn't the fastest. All members of the Scarlet faction (HD/FDH) had gathered to head north to support their allies: Ice (ROD/WXC), Tempest (FFS/LEG), and Justice (RRH/BTA). All-Out war is a long and costly event in terms of resources and time. Many battles had been launched, and I sensed that it would be a long day. The fatigue of the previous days was already beginning to set in, spirits were less relaxed, and faces were drawn with exhaustion. But we held on, knowing that this day would partly decide the outcome of our war against the formidable Nightmare coalition (BDR/NOX).

Dawn was just breaking when we left our fallback positions. The morning fog still enveloped the hills of the Scarlet territory, giving the familiar landscape a ghostly appearance. My comrades-in-arms walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, aware of the stakes of this crucial day. Weeks of relentless fighting against Nightmare forces had left their mark: worn-out equipment, depleted resources, and above all, a weariness that crept into our souls like a slow poison.

PacoVega, who was accompanying us, kept consulting his map, analyzing the latest reports on the factions' movements. His tired eyes betrayed the sleepless nights spent deciphering the enemy's strategies. “The Tempests are moving east,” he whispered. “They're planning something daring.”

At my side, Arthurion clenched his fists, his frustration palpable after the setbacks of the previous days. “This time, we won't let them get away,” he growled, referring to Shadow's evasive tactics (HOH/WAO) that had caused us so much suffering.

The further north we advanced, the more the tension mounted. Zarachiel, who was handling communications with our scouts, regularly returned with news from the front: “Ice is holding firm despite pressure from Nightmare, but Justice is in trouble on his eastern flank. As for the Tempests, they have launched a daring offensive that could be a game-changer.”

The sun was now high in the sky, but dark clouds gathering on the horizon promised a storm. It was as if the elements themselves wanted to make this day even more challenging. My legs were starting to feel heavy, my shoulders ached under the weight of my equipment, but I wasn't the only one. All around me, I could see my companions struggling with the same fatigue, the same dull pain that was insidiously setting in.

Around noon, we finally reached the front lines. The sight that greeted us was striking: everywhere we looked, banners of all factions fluttered in the wind, war cries echoed through the valley, and the air vibrated with that special energy that precedes great battles. Ice's forces greeted us with tired but grateful smiles. Their messengers confirmed that Méridianos was personally thanking us—their morale was boosted by seeing our forces swelling their ranks.

The first charge took place shortly after our arrival. The horns sounded, orders flew through our ranks, and suddenly everything descended into organized chaos. I was swept up in this whirlwind of tactics and adrenaline, my senses sharpened by the stakes, my reflexes heightened by the instinct for survival.

But as the hours passed, fatigue became increasingly heavy. Each assault required maximum concentration, each retreat was an ordeal for our exhausted forces. Time seemed to have stopped. The day seemed endless, stretching out like a nightmare from which we could not wake up.

Losses were mounting on both sides. PacoVega kept track of them with painful precision: “We lost Thor Ride this morning, a promising member of HD. And some FDH are out of action after Shadow's ambush.” Each name that disappeared from the active lists was a blow to our collective morale, a part of our strength that vanished with those who had been eliminated.

Yet we held on. Not just out of strategy or obligation, but out of something deeper: that brotherhood forged in adversity, that mutual trust that bound us together more solidly than any temporary alliance. When our leaders gave the signal for the final offensive of the morning, we all mobilized, drawing on our last reserves of energy that can only be found deep within ourselves.

I walked at a steady pace, driven by urgency. I knew the road to the next objective would be long. Soon, familiar figures passed me by: Stunnz and Arthurion in particular, with their fast units, were soon nothing more than dots on the horizon, leaving behind only a cloud of dust that irritated my throat. My heart was already pounding, but I couldn't afford to slow down. Every minute counted in this race against time and against Nightmare.

After what seemed like hours of slow progress, I finally caught up with them. The team had stopped at a rally point where our allies from Ice were already positioned. Their ROD/WXC banners flew proudly in the wind, and I could see in their eyes the same determination that drove us all. Stunnz quickly spread out the tactical map on a fallen tree stump.

“The objective is simple,” he announced in a focused voice, “distract Nightmare's forces and their powerful fighters like Imperial Rock while Storms captures medium industrial city 5.” His finger traced a line on the map, showing the strategic position we had to hold. “We have to make them believe that we are the real threat.”

The plan worked perfectly. Lured by our feint, Nightmare's forces spotted us and swooped down on us with their legendary efficiency. Their coordinated attacks echoed through the valley as they pressed us, their well-honed tactics shining in the heat of battle. But preoccupied and slowed down by our defensive maneuvers, they didn't immediately notice that Storms had descended en masse on the city they coveted.

The battle raged around us. Every order executed, every coordinated maneuver required absolute concentration. My muscles were beginning to numb from the repeated effort, my breathing was becoming ragged, but I held on. Around me, my companions fought with the same determination, forming a wall of resistance and resolve.

When Nightmare finally realized the deception, it was almost too late. They redirected their forces and charged with the energy of desperation to defend their positions. But in the confusion, I recognized a familiar figure among the orange ranks: Vangark, my friend, leading a Nightmare unit with his usual calm. Our eyes met for a moment amid the chaos of battle, and a sad smile passed between us. War had separated us, but our friendship remained.

The capture of Storms was almost complete when Nightmare's reinforcements arrived on the scene. But it was too late to prevent their victory. With an unexpected bonus: the teleportation of all BDR/NOX units to their base camp. We had taken the precaution of staying away from the castle, which allowed us to gain precious time, unlike Nightmare, who would have to redeploy all their units.

A weary smile appeared on Stunnz's lips when the news of the victory reached us. “First objective accomplished,” he murmured, folding his map. “But the day is far from over.” The teleportation of the BDR/NOX forces allowed Ice to take the medium industrial city 3. Zarachiel arrived at a gallop, his face beaming despite the fatigue that marked him: “Ice has succeeded! Meridianos confirms that the city is theirs!” This news gave our exhausted troops a little hope, but the price to pay was heavy. There had been many casualties on all sides, and I could see in my companions' eyes the weariness that was insidiously setting in.

PacoVega carefully noted his observations in his notebook. “It's a good start,” he said, “but Nightmare won't let himself be surprised twice. The afternoon is going to be even tougher.” As the sun reached its zenith, we all knew that this first part of the day was just a warm-up. The real challenges still lay ahead, and the shadow of Nightmare still loomed over our ambitions.