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War. War was upon them. The year? Who can remember, all that matters now is surviving.

Earth II, the last hope of earthlings after countless attempts to colonize other planets and failing to do so. Beast-kind and Mankind alike did their best to work together to find a home on this massive planet, the only one hospitable within a reasonable distance of the now destroyed planet. It was identical in nearly every way... The only real differences is it's absolute massive size. How it was capable of sustaining life such as earth with the scale of the system was beyond the most brilliant minds of their age. Of course the solar system they were in now was an equal scale between planet, sun, and.. moons.

We'll leave the geography for later. It could be considered the big brother of Earth, and that is all that matters to a dying race...

But the dying race thrives. Humans and Furs alike now growing in population, twice that of what Old Earth was capable of supporting in the end of it's days. But with growing population comes expansion. Only a half portion of the planet is explored, and a quarter of that populated in the millennium and a half years that the Earthlings occupied it for. And with exploration, and land claiming, comes conflict.

Just with any other sentient race there will always be inner conflict. Religion, resources, land, racism, science and any other possible thing you could imagine dominated the new settlements. The entire old earth race now split into factions.

The humans, somehow their ideology and politics as a whole reverted back similar into that of the Medieval era. Acting in haste to their fears of another solar systematic destruction they attempted to wipe out the very technologies that saved the beings of planet earth. They nearly succeeded. They created an empire, buildings of steel and stone fashioned after the castles, villages, and kingdoms of some of Old Earth's most primal and bloody era's. They followed religion, using small scraps of science to help them along before allowing small sects the only access of technology to keep their fleshy race going. Blinded by an irrational hate and fear of the "Beast-kind" they turned on their fellow Earthborn races. They found new magics, all based around "The Holy Hand of God", or god's, as many religions coincided peacefully with each other to keep them going, minor conflicts unable to break the brotherly bonds of the shared fear of the Beasts. Many, yet still so few, did not agree and so joined the beastly races of Earth in their fight for survival...

The Beasts themselves each formed different sects. None as violent as the Humans fear fueled crusades, with aid from the separatist Humans they formed their civilization in another part of the planet. Of course there are many different subspecies of these beasts. Furred creatures, Scaled, Feathered, Fleshy, Amphibian, Oceanic, you name it they had it. As with the natural order of things, and as expected, they split. Aquatic races dominated the seas in underwater cities, Feathered created flying cities fueled by mechanic technologies, Scaled beings spread out in small colonies, aided by their ever increased wisdom that comes with long lifespans and the deep understanding of nature and the arcane. Furry creatures of all kinds spreading themselves all about the territories claimed by beast kind, and the list goes on, with no way to keep the beastly races from interacting and interlacing, and no need. The new world became a complicated place, segregation and unification.

And war and strife.

The war never came to an end. With small lulls in fighting, small periods of peace, and new rises of ideologies and sciences... There is no way to describe everything about this world to you in any reasonable amount of time. So we will begin our tale here...

---

The explosion wracked the carrier. A massive lumbering brown hunk of armored steel on legs. It clanked and rattled with each step of it's gear and coal, and the powerful thumps and vibrations of the battle around it resonated throughout letting every living soul aboard it feel the dread that came, and the fear that each step it took may have been it's last. No one knew what the terrain would look like. No one would know where to go until they took their first step outside. No one knew how many bodies would litter the ground around them. And no one wanted to.

But this was a skirmish from the cultist's. They were mutated humans, tragedies of "Holy Magics" that were meant to augment Man's natural abilities that the the United Empire of Man sent to do the bloody, dirty, horrific work of killing innocents. And that demanded action. There was no true victory. If they prevailed, they would just lose fewer lives. If they lost... There would be no one to return home to tell of it.

Their current targets were outlying settlements that had yet to develop Most of the skirmishes had been quelled, whether through victory or loss. This was the last... And most bloody. The death toll was staggering already, and if the Cultist's managed to finish their suicidal attack, then many innocent lives would be lost.

"Alright, you know the drill. Once the Spider's stop moving, ready your weapons, and run like Jack Rabbits. The fleshies are set up in the middle of the city, we're not even going to bother clearing them out. Let them have it. We need to round up survivors and get them out of here, then the Featherheads will take care of the rest." The commander of this particular defensive action said to the troops in his carrier. There were a total of fifty carriers, all created in the image of the arachnids. Each could hold around a hundred troops. This particular carrier held the specialists of the task force. They would find the survivors of the bloody crusade, and the rest would hold the kamikaze humans at bay long enough to bring the civilians home alive. They were at the center of the metal and steel convoy. They numbered a mere twenty five if you counted the commander. Four groups of five and one group of four.

They were just reinforcements.

"You each have your separate orders, as soon as you step on dirt, finish as fast as you can, and for god sa-" Whatever he was saying was interrupted by an explosion. The already dim lights gave way to the tell tale emergency Red, and the carrier stopped. The lumbering metal beast, as designed if intact enough after being assaulted, lowered itself during it's last moments of life and opened it's bay doors before everything went dark for the troops inside... All except the doorway into a violent war. But they had no choice. And with no further word from commander, they all solemnly went about their duties, filing out into the awaiting fight for survival.

---

"Arie, three degrees north, in the trench." The Squirrel was their spotter, a glider. He hung for dear life in the darkness of an under hang of a particularly large building, his voice carrying his nervousness into his helmet's radio.

"I see him." One of the two Skunks in the group muttered into his chin mic. He looked down the sights of the rifle he held. He let out an uncomfortable noise, his dirt covered tail twitching in the darkness of the ruins of a building, no telling what it used to be used for. The city itself looked fashioned after Feudal Asia. Ironic, as no one in the city spoke any form of ancient Asian His blue eyes pierced the darkness as he lined his barrel up with what looked to be a monk. He knew better. The robes were to conceal the burned and warped skin of the insane officer, yelling his commands to various underlings around him.

And with a loud crack, the rifle fired. He didn't bother to watch the metallic bullet rip through his target. He hated the sight of death. "Target down, who's next Chitter?"

Radio silence... And then an explosion wracked above the sniper.

Squad mates rarely worked together more than once in this war. They had no time to bemoan the loss of their squad member. It wasn't uncommon. To lose one so quickly was surprising, but that was what happens in war. The skunk quickly lifted himself from his prone position on the crumbling stone of his vantage point and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He ran through the shadows and darted down ruined stairs as fast as he could. He was a sniper, he traveled light. With nothing but a rifle, a small ammunition pouch, and a ragged set of clothes made from leather more fit for a desert environment, he could be on his feet in a matter of seconds and into another position for sniping the next. There was no thinking involved as a feminine voice whispered into his ear from his headset. They were primitive radios. He didn't know the science behind them, he didn't care. All he knew is that it kept him in touch with his team.

"Arie, Chitter is gone. Max is wounded, but he's found the survivors. He and Dazzle are on their way to the transport now." It was Marie, his sister. Arie never fought without her.

"Chitter spotted a small group of civvies north of my position before he... Head off with Em and Dee, make sure they all make it alright. I'll meet up with you at the rendezvous"

He switched off his radio before stopping to examine himself in a broken pane of glass as he thought over his plan and what information he knew. His bright blue eyes were bloodshot as they peaked out from the messy dirt caked bangs of his shoulder length black hair, the natural white streaks through it brown from the dust. His white fur of his cheeks were smudged with mud and he traced his fingers up the skintight leather 'Armor' that he had been wearing for nearly five years, tips brushing over the tears and gashes that resulted from this particular skirmish. The five hours they had been fighting this needless war had exhausted him, but he would fight for five more if he had to.

With a deep breath to calm his nerves he left. He snuck through the wreckages of vehicles of war for an unaccountable distance, stepped over the occasional body of both friend and mutated foe. The desolated oriental buildings crumbled around him from friendly artillery or the mutant human's own magics. Both were equally devastating, and it made his stomach churn, especially the sight of a broken sepia pictograph of a small family of rats. They looked happy and peaceful in their home, and now it was all gone.

He held his breath as he heard the snarling of a mutant patrol. He was in a 'Neutral' zone, an area already rendered useless. Patrol's from both sides occasionally scoured the buildings to pick off any stragglers. The beast kind squads were normally smaller compared to the mutant cannon fodder, but that was due to the dramatic difference in skill and battle prowess. He himself was in no particular danger, as it seemed they only numbered a small squad of five. No doubt hunting the helpless to make his job harder.

He waited several minutes after they passed to make sure he was clear, but as soon as he heard what sounded like a scream from the direction of the little patrol, he was on the move. He whipped his 'ancient' rifle from his shoulder and dashed over fallen walls, over what he assumed were the wrecks of metallic vehicles, and through holes in the wall. How fast had these things been moving?

When he stopped, his rifle was already pressed to his shoulder and firing off a shot. A particularly mangled mutant was holding up a small human child up by his neck as several pups of the beastkin cowered against a ruined wall, surrounded. They all jumped with various sounds of fright as the bullet hit with a horrid sound. He usually blinked as soon as he fired so he wouldn't have to watch the spray of living matter, but he couldn't spare that small second as his feet were on the move before the human was dead on the ground and the human child scrabbling for cover.

Arie raised his rifle as he closed the distance between him and the patrol of muties, mashing a small fragile looking caster with the butt of his gun and already lining up his next shot. He let out a strangled grasp as the human he thought was dead grabbed onto his neck and squeezed with a supernatural length. He grasped at the hands as his tail lashed out, eyes focusing on a broken wood framed mirror that had somehow survived an explosion and the fall from a higher story. The inhuman soldier was covered in charred skin and pointed bits of bone poked out of his skin here and there, a truly gruesome sight.

But Arie hadn't lived this long without some form of way to save him from escaping situations like these. Within a moment a bright glowing blue tendril shot out of the fur just above his tail, it's harmless seeming fleshy dull tip piercing straight through his assaulter's chest, and a second lashing tendril slamming into his abdomen like a whip, loosening the grip he had on Arie's neck enough for him to twist and mash his heel into the mutant's crotch. His tentacles receded and flailed about behind him as he faced the remaining three creeps, their inhuman snarling the only noise they could utter before Arie dashed into the fray, six more tendrils joining the two blood spattered ones he left out, his teeth bared as he dropped his rifle. It was useless in close range combat.

He reached the first of the three, a creature who was more like a flesh covered skeleton with wicked looking claws jutting from his fingers who met him head on. His tendrils immediately slammed into the creep who lashed out and managed to scratch another line through his leathered torso, his body thrown back from the force of the blow as a mutant who was covered completely in a cloak and robe muttered incantations of a "Holy Spell", the white bolt forming in front of him faster than Arie could react and piercing through his waist like a flaming bullet, the smell of burning flesh and fur filling his nostrils as he stabbed a tentacle through the creature's hooded head. He didn't even wait to see him drop before he turned on the last creature who had lept above him, legs that looked as if they were backwards falling straight towards his face.

He grabbed onto the creatures ankles and through it off balance, the near naked, scar covered mutant human slamming into the ground on his hip with an audible crack. Arie didn't waist another moment kicking it's jaw, throwing it's head to the side violently and snapping his neck with the blow.

He stood straight, almost letting out a breath of relief, until he saw the shadow cast in front of him. The first of the encounter he had already "Killed" twice was right behind him. He turned around and took a step back as the 'It' stood to it's full height, he didn't even realize it before but the tainted being was hunched over the entire time. And his bulk... The mutant was massive, muscles rippling under charred skin, and to survive two vital blows and a heavy impact that could further the damage, he was no doubt rivaling most draconian species in strength. This proved to be a problem.

He chanced a glance over at the children, who were doing their damnedest to bravely sneak away from the gruesome fight that had taken a mere few minutes to escalate. And then he hunched forward, tensing himself and met glares with the snarling once-human, his piercing blue eyes gazing into deep voids of black on a charred and scarred face. And then they sprung into action.

He jumped forward into a roll to avoid a gnarled fist smashing into the rubble that had protected his flank and whipped around, letting his own claws catch the flesh of the resilient foe. There was no blood, there was only skin turning to ash as the magics that held this monstrosity together disrupted in the wake of his claws. His eyes widened in realization and his paw darted to his ammunition pouch, jumping backwards to avoid a heavy fist. He took that moment to glance at what he'd grabbed. It was a small metallic ball with a small light that constantly blinked red. He took it and tossed it at the hulking mutant, watching as it stuck to the creep's chest. The mutated human snarled and dashed forward to deliver another blow that connected with Arie's gut, sending him backwards and to the ground, coughing and sputtering. He lift his arms and his tendrils to guard his face as the creature brought his foot down to stomp him, but a flash of light sent him reeling back and the sound of a small gunshot followed.

He waited a few tense, precious milliseconds before opening his eyes and watched as the creature clutched at his chest... Or what would have been his chest if the device Arie through hadn't exploded and scattered flesh and ash out into the air. An arm disintegrated into ash and scattered with the small breeze that swept through the clusterfucked buildings, and the 'Holy' warrior let out a guttural roar before he simply fell apart as the magics that kept him alive disrupted entirely.

With a sputtering cough as he fought to keep what little was in his stomach, his gut twisting in knots from the heavy blow, he struggled to his feet, leaning against crumbling concrete, his eyes surveying over the dead forms of the 'Soldiers' he had just murdered. He closed his eyes and let his ears tell him if there were any more threats before he snapped to attention at a small tug at his belt. He looked down at a small kitten, or was she a wolf? Perhaps both. Her green eyes gazed up at him, quivering and watery with fear and confusion. Her pink furred ears were flattened to her head, the white tuft of fur that was her neck length hair clinging to her scalp and furred skin. He knelt down to eye level with the young girl and she latched onto him. His paw slipped down over her poofy, long white tail and swept it against her rump, picking her up and holding her against his chest, the other children crawling out from various hiding places in the rubble. He forced himself not to look at the dead dragon who was no doubt guiding these pups to safety and, without a word, led them all away. He left his rifle, it was useless to him right now as he carefully wandered through the buildings to an allied front, younglings in tow. He had no strength left, if another patrol found them they would be lost. All that was left was luck.

He found himself resting his muzzle on the head of the girl in his arms as she whimpered softly into the fur of his neck, her tears staining his dirt caked fur. "I'll keep you safe, don't worry. We're headed to safety, and we'll be amongst friends soon. I'll protect you until then, okay? My name is Arie. What's yours?"

She nodded into his fur and clenched her paws against his chest. Her ragged gasping quieted, a long few minutes of silence let him focus his ears on the surroundings before the little wolfcat stirred in his arms, the small human boy and a third beastkit that was probably a ferret holding tightly onto the fur of his tail, his tentacles having long gone retreated into his body. He looked down at the silent pink and white bundle in his arms as she struggled to find words. "I-I'm... I'm Adriana"

He smiled and clutched her tighter, getting a small squeak in return. "We're almost there." His smile and declaration was a reassurance. Not to the kits, but to himself. This war was leaving everyone's lives in shambles. And soon, he wouldn't have to fight it. He was scheduled a peaceful mission of guiding refugees into 'The Dark' after this battle. "And then no one will have to see this hell again."