Arx-Born

Blows crash across our shields, a breaking tide on our advance. The Brothers of Arx will not be stopped.

Hallway after turning hallway we march. Opposition falls before us, absorbed by the shield wall and quickly dispatched. Our swords work like sewing needles, piercing flashes in the engine of destruction the four of us make.

Spin, bash, step, slash. My brother is as much a shield as the one I wield, stepping into the gap I've left on my flank he stops a spear that was meant for my heart. I slip forward and return the favour in kind, granting it's bearer a taste of my blade before my Brothers form up once more. Two in the front, two in the back, a synchronus march to our next checkpoint.

Were it not for all the blood, it would be beautiful.

We round the corner, and I see it first.

“PART.” I bark the order, and like liquid we split down the middle. The cannon at the end of the hallway fires, but too late. The ball hisses past us, down the corridor and creates a new window in the building. There is no man that can pierce the shield of an Arx-Born, but there are some things even we defer to. Before we realize it we are back in formation, continuing our inexorable advance.

The cannon crew falls, and we march on.