We were stationed at our post behind the city walls, watching vigilantly as our enemies were approaching us from over the horizon. Their armies stacked with veteran soldiers, trebuchets and even a great Goliath. But none of us were afraid. We had distance, a sizable population to pull troops from, and were masters of archery and chivalry. We knew how the oncoming battle was fated to end: with their utter, humiliating defeat and our proved military superiority.

But as we had our bows turned towards our foes in the distance, we could not have expected to hears cries from behind us. Many of the soldiers once fixated on the world outside suddenly turned their attention back towards the city. There was rioting in the streets and mass panic everywhere, all spearheaded by gangs dressed with the enemy's colors, but with masks over their eyes. They were striking our soldiers and setting fires to the buildings.

The entire battalion was just stunned, but a few shed their surprised faces and took action. As others joined, we attempted to suppress this surprise enemy and reclaim city order. Blades clashed, bows were fired and much blood had spilled. It was gruesome. It was hellish. But eventually, it was over.

The fighting had decimated our forces and left us scrambling to regroup. We didn't know how we were to stop the approaching enemy forces at this state. But before a proper plan could be formulated, we were interrupted by a great boom. Our walls were now being beaten down and our remaining solders are far too weak to fight this. We knew what was likely coming: we were going to die here. I feel horrible for what I did next, but I saw little point in fighting. So in the chaos of the troops preparing a response, I slipped out the gates, then gave one final at the collapsing walls of my home behind me.

And I ran. I ran until the city was out of view. I ran until I found someone else also running from the city. It was hard to spot them at first but when I did, I slowed down, noticing that they were also walking away from the city. I figured it was a fellow deserter, and greeted them with sympathy. That's when they turned around and I noticed the large mask covering their face, as well as the colors they were wearing being close to the enemy's. Bruised, and battered, I just stared at this cloaked figure before me as the realization came to me what had happened in the city. What happened when those masked individuals were besieging my city... I figure that this person sensed my realization, and I could feel the sense of a smug smile behind that mask. With nothing left, I knelt in shame before what I now recognized who was truly the superior force on the battlefield.