The chaos of the fight was everywhere, a constant cacophony of gunfire, screeches, and the sickening sound of bullets meeting flesh.
My arms burned from holding Doom, the weight of the gun heavier with each shot.
My heart pounded in rhythm with the chaos, but I couldn't let myself falter.
"Sky! Both of you, get in there!" Steve's voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding.
He didn't even look back as he shouted, his rifle barking with relentless precision.
I glanced at the black-haired, emotionless guy who had barely spoken a word since we met.
His expression still unreadable, then stepped forward without hesitation.
There was no time to overthink.
I gripped Doom tighter and moved in beside him.
The second I joined the line, the tide seemed to shift.
My finger tightened on the trigger, and a deafening boom erupted from Doom.
The recoil jolted my arms, but the payoff was worth it.
The blast ripped through a cluster of goblins, their screeches cut short as they crumpled like rag dolls.
"Nice shot!" one of the soldiers called, but I barely registered it.
The adrenaline coursing through me drowned out everything except the next target.
The quiet guy, standing a few feet away, fired in smooth, controlled bursts.
He wasn't flashy like me, but damn if he wasn't effective.
His bullets found their marks with mechanical precision, each goblin he shot dropping mid-stride.
He didn't say a word, didn't even flinch when a goblin's blade came dangerously close before another soldier took it down.
It was unnerving how calm he was, like this was just another day for him.
I, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh as I pulled the trigger again, sending another group of goblins flying.
There was something oddly satisfying about the sheer destructive power of Doom.
Each shot felt like I was releasing all the pent-up frustration I'd been carrying.
"Sky, focus!" Steve barked, dragging me back to reality.
I realized I had been grinning like an idiot, and the goblins weren't letting up.
The horde was endless, their twisted, snarling faces illuminated by the fading sunlight.
The forest around us seemed alive, the shadows stretching and twisting as if the trees themselves were recoiling from the battle.
The ground was littered with goblin bodies, but for every one we took down, two more seemed to take its place.
Time blurred.
Minutes felt like hours as the fight dragged on.
The sun dipped lower, casting an orange glow over the battlefield.
My arms ached, my legs felt like lead, and sweat dripped down my face, stinging my eyes.
But we held the line.
Even as the goblins pressed harder, we fought back.
The quiet guy, true to form, hadn't said a single word, but his movements were as sharp and efficient as ever.
I had to admit, having him next to me made things feel a little less chaotic.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was running on fumes.
My breathing was ragged, my muscles screaming with every movement.
But the persistent little bastards were still coming.
Steve made the call.
"We're pulling back! Fall into formation and retreat! Both of you, cover us!"
The quiet guy didn't react, just reloaded his weapon with a precision that made me wonder if he even felt tired.
I nodded, raising Doom again, and fired another blast into the horde.
It gave the others enough of an opening to start falling back in pairs.
The retreat wasn't safe, not by a long shot.
The goblins were relentless, snapping at our heels like rabid dogs.
We moved through the forest in tight formation, the dense trees casting long shadows that made it hard to see.
I stumbled at one point, nearly tripping over an exposed root.
The quiet guy grabbed my arm, steadying me without a word.
I shot him a quick look, half-grateful, half-annoyed, but he just kept moving, his expression as stoic as ever.
By the time we broke through the edge of the forest, the last light of day had faded completely.
The city walls were a distant silhouette against the darkening sky, and the sight of them was the first relief I'd felt all day.
The goblins didn't follow us out of the forest.
Whether it was because of the fading light or their own twisted sense of territory, I didn't know.
I didn't care.
We collapsed into a makeshift defensive position just outside the forest's edge, breathing heavily and checking our injuries.
Steve was barking orders, telling us to patch up quickly in case the goblins decided to regroup.
I dropped the pack from my shoulders, letting it hit the ground with a heavy thud.
My arms felt like jelly, my legs like they'd been turned to stone.
The quiet guy, of course, looked like he'd just taken a leisurely stroll through the woods.
"Not bad," Steve said, walking over and clapping me on the shoulder. "You guys held up better than I expected."
I grunted in response, too tired to say anything.
As I sat there, staring back at the forest, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
The goblins might have retreated.
But why?.