You live in a world where your soulmate is unable to hurt you, internationally or otherwise. You are fighting in a war, when one of the enemies knives harmlessly glances off you.
Something exploded in the fog off Private Andrew's left. He crouched in a foxhole with his squad, or what was left of it. They'd been pinned down in this field of blackened grass and smoldering craters for a while.
Corporal Yenta tried to bandage his mangled leg. The last mortar landed too close. "You'll be fine private. Since you're not screaming I assume the adrenaline and painkillers are doing their job."
Lieutenant Thomas leaned against the crater wall with a rifle clutched between his dirty fingers. He'd been there ever since they found this hole.
Andrew motioned to his superior. They had to do something about the Monolith. Those things couldn't be touched by most weapons. Bullets simply pinged off their hardened grey skin.
In theory, a well placed sniper shot could take them down, but few people had the skill to hit the right spot on the neck. For some reason or another, the skin was thin enough that a high caliber bullet could pierce it. Anywhere else and it might just crack the stone.
This one had been searching the craters for survivors of Andrew's group, the 53rd Infantry. It didn't have to worry about the near constant explosions or shrapnel hitting the field.
It would be okay. The Northern Militia had plenty of marksmen in reserve, waiting for a Monolith to show up. Unfortunately for Lieutenant Thomas and his squad, their radioman was crushed beneath the 'Crete's foot.
Private Andrew tried to get Thomas's attention again. If they could get to the radio, a sniper would clear the path for them to retreat. Thomas didn't seem to notice. He only flinched slightly when a mortar exploded nearby and showered them with dirt.
"Lieutenant Thomas sir!" Andrew shouted over the sounds of battle, "Sir, if we could get to the radio we could get outta here!"
Lieutenant Thomas stared at Andrew, unresponsive. The Private limped to his superior and shook him.
That finally broke Thomas out of his trance. "Wha— Shit, we're still here?" He stood up to see and shook his head, "That Monoliths still there..."
"One of us could run for the radio while the rest distract him. It might work." Andrew said hopefully. "Although, Yenta's been running all day to help wounded and my leg doesn't exactly work right now."
Thomas laughed, "Well it sure as hell ain't gonna be me!" He pointed at Andrew, "I need a medic with me incase you fail. Now, I order you to get that radio. You're the only one who isn't doing something important."
Andrew hesitated. This wasn't right. He couldn't. A harsh glare from Thomas smothered those thoughts. He hefted his rifle and surveyed the area around the radio.
The Monolith was fighting in another foxhole a few dozen meters away. Shotgun blasts lit up the fog. Near that was the radio— and what was left of Sonda. He hefted his gun and prepared for the sprint ahead.
