War. War never changes. The Romans waged war to gather slaves and wealth. Spain built an empire from its lust for gold and territory. Hitler shaped a battered Germany into an economic superpower. But war never changes. The face of war may change. Rocks give way to spears, which give way to swords and armor, which give way to muskets and bayonets, which give way to machine guns and bombs, even those give way to drones, mechas, nuclear weapons, lasers; now it gives way to magic, highly trained “Shifters” given superhuman powers and taught to fight, to maim… to kill, with them. It may look radically different, but it’s still war, still the same demon that has haunted humanity since the first groups of hunter-gatherers fought over limited resources. Another constant of war… soldiers like breaks and Shifters are no different. The upcoming festival had given the atmosphere a decidedly cheerful mood, despite the hovering specter of uncertainty over Endolas activity… or lack thereof. Everybody was happy for an excuse to relax and forget about fighting for their lives for a little while. … Except perhaps Commander Jones. Grouchy bastard. _______________________________________________________________ Alice grumbled, glaring at her computer screen. What she was going to do come this festival thing she had no idea. She really wasn’t the festive type, normally she’d just read something or attack holograms. What was the point of festivals? All they did was make her feet sore and make her cranky from fending off vendors hawking their overpriced merchandise. But something in her gut told her it might be a good idea to go to this one. Some sixth sense nudging her to go out and have a good time somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it almost felt foreboding. [i]Endolas is going to attack soon.[/i] She thought glumly, there was no logically denying it. They’d been completely silent for so long, it was only a matter of time before something happened. [i]Probably going to try and swarm us. It’s what I’d do. Maybe throw in a few sporadic attacks to keep the charade plausible for a little longer. Then attack with everything I had, probably with feints, diversions, and pincer movements...[/i] She sighed, dropping her head onto her desk and groaning. She pushed herself up from the chair, rolling onto her bed and dragging the sheets over herself as she scrolled through various ebooks on her phone. [i]Fuck it. I’ll go to the damn festival. Else I’m going to pull out the Art of War and spend all my waking hours theorizing on what Endolas is going to do again. S’not like I could do anything anyway, they’d jus- ooh! I’ve been meaning to read that![/i] Her trail of thought was interrupted as she glimpsed an item among the myriad options that stuck out at her, and she rolled on to her side to begin reading, faint notions in the back of her mind about strategy and going to the festival after all.