The building shook as something heavy hit the far side of it.
Ethan barely had time to register the sound before the wall to his left folded inward, bricks and concrete bursting into the room like shrapnel.
He was thrown sideways, shoulder slamming into a support beam hard enough to knock the rifle from his hands.
He hit the ground and rolled, ears ringing, mouth full of dust.
Someone screamed.
The sound cut off abruptly.
Ethan pushed himself up on his elbows.
The room they'd been using as cover was gone one wall missing entirely, the ceiling sagging, light pouring in through a hole where the second floor used to be.
Alien silhouettes moved through the breach.
Not rushing.
Entering.
Ethan scrambled for his rifle, fingers brushing the sling just as a beam scorched the floor where his head had been.
He rolled again, came up on one knee, and fired without aiming.
The rounds hit something solid.
Sparks flew.
One alien staggered back a step.
That was enough.
Another soldier Ethan didn't know his name charged past him, screaming, bayonet fixed.
He made it three steps before an alien struck him mid-air.
The body hit the ground in two pieces.
Ethan froze for half a second too long.
The alien turned toward him.
It moved faster than he expected.
Faster than anything that size should move.
Ethan fired again, aiming low this time.
The rounds struck a knee joint.
The alien collapsed forward, momentum carrying it toward him.
They collided.
The impact knocked Ethan onto his back, the alien's weight crushing his chest.
Its armor was hot, radiating heat through his uniform.
One of its limbs pinned his left arm; another reached for his helmet, fingers digging into the edge like it knew exactly where to grab.
Ethan screamed and shoved, panic overriding everything.
His hand found the knife still clipped to his vest.
He drew it and drove it upward, again and again, stabbing into gaps, seams, anywhere the blade would go.
The alien convulsed violently, strength surging, fingers tightening on his helmet.
Then the pressure loosened.
The alien sagged on top of him, heavy and lifeless.
Ethan shoved it off and rolled away, gasping, chest burning like it might collapse in on itself.
He lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling that wasn't really a ceiling anymore.
He didn't feel relief.
He felt late.
"MOVE!" someone shouted. "THEY'RE COMING THROUGH THE REAR!"
Ethan forced himself to his feet, legs shaking so badly he nearly fell again.
He grabbed his rifle, checked the magazine by instinct.
Half full.
That wasn't enough.
They fell back through the building, climbing over rubble, stepping on bodies without looking down.
The hallway beyond was choked with smoke and debris.
Somewhere ahead, a machine gun opened up, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
Ethan followed it.
They emerged into what used to be a street.
Used to be.
The road was gone, replaced by a cratered stretch of broken asphalt and burning vehicles.
A transport lay on its side, wheels still spinning uselessly.
Bodies human and alien were scattered everywhere, some moving, most not.
A squad had set up behind the wreckage, firing in controlled bursts.
Their faces were grim, eyes hollow.
"Fall in!" a sergeant yelled. "Ammo here...if you need it, take it and go!"
Ethan sprinted, bullets snapping past him.
He slammed into cover, heart pounding, and tore open an ammo crate.
Empty.
Another crate.
Empty.
A third half-full, mixed magazines, some bent, some blood-slick.
He grabbed what he could and reloaded.
The sergeant leaned in close, shouting over the noise. "They're pushing the entire block! We hold here or the evac line behind us collapses!"
Ethan nodded, though he had no idea where the evac line was anymore.
The aliens came again.
This time in tighter formation.
Human fire poured into them rifles, machine guns, rockets but they kept moving, stepping over their own dead with mechanical precision.
A heavy alien unit advanced at the center, armor thicker, weapons larger.
A rocket hit it square in the chest.
It staggered.
Kept coming.
The heavy raised its weapon.
Ethan didn't think.
He broke from cover and ran.
Rounds tore into the ground around him.
One clipped his leg, a burning line of pain, but he didn't stop.
He slid into the open, dropped to one knee, and fired everything he had at the heavy's joints.
The rounds sparked, chipped, finally punched through something vital.
The heavy collapsed forward, crushing two of its own units beneath it.
Ethan skidded behind a burned-out truck just as a beam cut through the space where he'd been.
He lay there, chest heaving, vision swimming.
Someone grabbed his collar and dragged him back.
"You trying to die?" a voice snarled.
Ethan looked up at a woman with a scorched faceplate and wild eyes.
"Maybe later," he rasped.
She snorted once, then shoved him back into position.
They fired together.
A drone screamed overhead and detonated, showering the street in molten debris.
The machine gun fell silent.
So did the squad manning it.
"LEFT FLANK!" someone yelled.
Too late.
Aliens breached from an alley, weapons already firing.
Ethan saw a soldier try to surrender hands up, screaming something incoherent.
The beam hit him anyway.
There was no hesitation.
No recognition.
Just elimination.
Ethan fired until his rifle clicked empty.
He dropped the magazine, reached for another...
Nothing.
He checked his vest.
One left.
He slammed it in and kept firing.
Around him, people were dropping.
Some screaming.
Some silent..
Some still fighting even after they should've been dead.
A medic crawled past him, dragging a wounded soldier by the straps.
A beam cut them both down in a single line.
Ethan flinched, then forced himself not to look.
The line bent.
Not broke.
Bent.
They fell back again, step by bloody step, giving up meters for seconds, seconds for breaths.
Ethan's leg burned with every movement. His hands were numb.
His ears rang constantly now, the world muffled and distant.
At some point, the orders stopped making sense.
At some point, no one knew who was in charge.
They fought anyway.
Because stopping meant being overrun.
Because retreating too fast meant exposing the people behind them engineers, evac convoys, units trying to regroup.
Because there was nothing else left to do.
Ethan ducked into a shattered storefront as alien fire raked the street.
Inside, three other soldiers huddled behind a counter, faces pale, eyes darting.
One of them looked at Ethan and laughed weakly. "You still breathing?"
Ethan nodded.
"Good," the soldier said. "Means we're not done yet."
The building shook again as something heavy approached.
Ethan raised his rifle, took a breath that tasted like smoke and blood, and waited.