The soldiers moved as one, their heavy steps synchronized. Their faces were grim, eyes forward, and expressions unyielding as they traversed the desolate terrain. The air was thick with tension, the kind that always clung to the lead-up of a major battle, and not a word passed between them. They were a solid line, a single unit moving forward in perfect unison, each soldier locked in his duty. Except the perfect harmony was shattered in an instant.
It started with a low, ominous sound, and a distant rush of air, that was barely perceptible at first, but grew louder with each passing second. The first soldier at the front raised his head, his eyes narrowing as he felt something shift in the air. His gaze shot upward, and then his entire body went rigid, his face drained of color. A shadow cast over him, sweeping across the group. His mouth went dry, and his breath caught in his throat. His hand shot out to his nearest comrade, tugging at his arm as he tried to speak.
