The Bellators

1:12:2

 War is inherently chaotic, that is a fact that can be agreed among many. Its collateral is chaotic, its scenes are chaotic, even the very core concept of war itself is chaotic. War is perhaps one of the most chaotic occurences a civilized world can trigger upon themselves, an anomaly that stands against the core foundation that a unified society exists upon.

To turn against one another, to wield tools produced as the innovations of humanity and turn it against humanity itself, such chaotic action is the essence of war.

Yet at the same time, war is organized. There is a civilized, almost sophisticated element. The placement of laws in wartime, but even the organization of forces and an intelligent hierarchy of command. War is played like chess, it deploys strategy and draws from the mind. But furthermore, delving into a zoomed lens, war itself maintains unification, unification within, and even throughout in the instances of alliance.

Not only war, but most conflicts are to a degree controlled, or at the very most, organized. In fact, the moment a conflict has been thought out, the moment a plan is schemed, the moment groupings are made, the conflict becomes organized and thereby sophisticated. Perhaps to varying degrees this is the case, but nonetheless it is.

However, upon the emergence of the Tempest inside the island forest– appearing in an organized war that has raged for years with even this battle, albeit shortly announced, being strategic and sophisticated– chaos rises to the surface like magmatic flow rising up to sink the surface of beautiful natural biomes and advanced human civilizations.

In that moment of an otherworldly being, a myth, a rumor, announcing its existence in this sane world, all sense of organization comes undone, and in its place is crude chaos.

All along the open battlefield surrounded by trees, Exhumans adorned in black spandex suits with orange branch designs and Watchdogs rigged in green fiber woven suits with firearms attached to their hand turn to face the Tempest, facing a logical fallacy.

The ancient proverb, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" loses reliability in this instance. Generation S are enemies with the Tempest. The Watchdogs are enemies with the Tempest. Yet Generation S and the Watchdogs have been enemies for years, feuding on the basis of a multi century conflict. The Tempest was neither side's friend, but neither side was each other's friend. So what reaction does this compel?

Chaos.

Several Watchdogs turn their aim from their targeted Exhumans and instead focus on the Tempest, reminded of the terrifying rumors they heard from other strongholds and sometimes their own. Exhumans within the field also turn their attention from their targeted Watchdogs and plant it on the Tempest, reminded of very similar rumors that have kept them up at night for years.

Yet at the same time, a collection of Watchdogs and Exhumans alike remain targeting each other, choosing their priorities, and nobody's to say who is correct.

After what comes off as thirty seconds of frozen silence, the scene resumes, but now with the added property of chaos. Watchdogs continue to gun down Exhumans but at the same time several of them fire their orange bolts at the Tempest while Exhumans continue striking Watchdogs such as one who sharpening grass to wield as needles but at the same time several others charge at the Tempest, covering their fists in metal gauntlets and firing pressurized streams of water.

A convergence of battles muddles into one as the Tempest steps away from the stray's defeated body before absorbing a burst of orange gunfire and then strafing backwards to evade an Exhuman who slashes at him with a whip made out of dirt.

In a sense, an allied free-for-all takes place as individuals choose their opponent, ganging up on them with other individuals who have chosen the same, although some of those individuals happen to be their enemies from the other side of the battle.