Bodies like machines stutter, turn, twist and, in falling, collapse to pieces under the hefted might of blades both steel and AM. But for the thud of attack to flesh and bone, the gasp of breath, the grunt of effort, there is no sound. It is a silent battle, heaving beneath a looming sky, bereft of colour. Beneath it, the ground drowns with blood, mixed to thick paste by sand and dirt, a filthy remnant, nothing more.
Opposing forces clash in violent bursts as though ground has become sky and r...
Published on January 11, 2013 16:12