It was loud. Everything was deafeningly loud. Explosions, shouting, the cracks and pops of bullets flying through the air and hitting against sand, metal, and sometimes flesh overwhelmed every sense Tarentek possessed. He was prone on the rooftop of his neighbors' house, trying in vain to pick out any target in the darkness beyond Amman's walls. Only minutes before, the land was shrouded in the near-complete darkness of the moonless night, but now he was nearly blinded by the bright red glow of the dozens of flares that had suddenly been fired over the city. Even now, they were illuminating himself and his allies holding the road below, and making the darkness beyond all the more impenetrable.
Tarentek was meant to be a marksman, but he could not see anyone to shoot. Some of his allies below were firing blindly into the darkness to suppress the enemy, but he could not take advantage of it. He tried to focus his sights on the muzzle flashes of the enemy to give him some chance of hitting someone, but he couldn't keep his rifle steady. Despite his prone position, his hands were shaking, and he could feel nothing but fear. They were being overwhelmed, in every sense of the word. The sounds, the light, the gunfire, it was destroying them in body and spirit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a friend's head explode into a mist of blood behind her. She was twenty-two years old, a year younger than himself. Her father had wanted her to become a butcher like he was, but she was too much of a thrill seeker to be complacent just cutting up meat. She liked to think of herself as the best shot in the squad, despite the fact that both Tarentek and Rithalsa could regularly outmatch her in training. She had recently pranked him by adding something extremely spicy to his soup, and he still had not managed to think of a way to get her back.
Closing his eyes a moment, Tarentek tried to snap himself out of it. He needed to focus on the moment; he needed to find something to shoot. His eyes tried to scan the darkness for some trace of a silhouette he could shoot, but he kept hearing something that distracted him. It was quiet compared to the chaos around him, but it was close. After a few moments he realized from where and what it was: crying, from directly beneath him. His neighbors were likely hiding in the second floor of their home in the room just under him. His neighbors' had their egg hatch only a few weeks ago. He had heard about it a day or so after his team returned from their last mission. They had been trying for a child for quite a while, as their last two eggs were already lifeless when they were laid. Luckily, he had returned in time to attend the celebration they held for the child's hatching. The partly had lasted a few hours longer than intended, but it had been a good opportunity for Tarentek to catch up with the others in his neighborhood.
A bullet pinged off of the edge of the roof beside Tarentek, bringing him back into the moment. Some of the flares had been burning down, but the enemy just fired more. Still, he could use their muzzle flash; he could find a target. Eventually, his shaky hands managed to guide his rifle somewhere near a flash in the darkness. Despite seeing nothing, he looked through his scope on reflex, then started to squeeze the trigger before a blinding while light interrupted him. It was like a floodlight straight onto him and his allies, which was bright enough to force him to close his eyes and turn his head. Once his eyes managed to somewhat adjust, he saw the lights approaching unbelievably quickly, and with a terrifying roar. He froze up as it drew closer and closer. Just as it came crashing through their fortifications, he was able to see the machine which the lights were attached to. It was a large, armored version of the decaying vehicles found in old Human cities, but instead of a rusting pile of steel, this one was quite operational. He was almost in awe of the machine as it shattered their fortifications, crushed a member of his squad, and crashed through the very building Tarentek was on top of. The walls and internal supports crumbled as the building began to collapse, sending Tarentek tumbling to the ground below.
Tarentek awoke screaming. He kicked and thrashed his blanket away from him violently enough to tear it slightly with the claws on his feet. He shot up into a sitting position as his eyes darted around the room, which was lightly illuminated by the morning sun. For a few moments, he was still panicked and confused, unable to separate reality from memory. He waited for his inevitable death, but when it did not come, he was slowly brought back into reality. However, the influence of those memories could not be so easily escaped. Tarentek backed himself against the wall and brought his knees up to his chest, then buried his head between his arms as he wrapped them around his legs. The vivid memories of that night tore at his very being, to the point that he began to sob uncontrollably.
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