His death was an accident. As the hunter's hands became limp, Sasha's rifle slipped from her grasp and sank into the shifting sands of the martian landscape. She stumbled in retreat from his body, collapsing onto the sea of red grains. Tears streamed down her face, hidden by the visor of her helmet and dwarfed by the sorrow and horror that impaled her. In her moment of weakness the Cabal legionnaires descended, seizing her, and hauling her deeper into the crumbling city ruins. The days that followed overflowed with taunts and abuse by the monstrous Cabal. They relished in the capture of a guardian, making no attempt to suppress their glee. Dawn after dawn they rose to scream and roar at the face of their shattered enemy. Untying the rope that held Sasha hostage, they paraded her around the carcass of the once glorious city now suffocating beneath the rising dunes. At dusk, as the sun gave its last rays of warmth to the sand, they returned her to the rusty lamp post where she was fettered for the Cabals' entertainment. A pet for them to play with. High above the sand swept city streets the ogres had hung Mickey's body, tied to the beams of two adjacent high rises. His shadow cast over Sasha, enveloping her in darkness. Even in the shade one could distinguish the effects of her internment. The color of her armor had been slowly chipped away by sand in the hot breeze. Her red, burnt, skin tissue peeled from the rest of her hide, layer after layer. She smelled foul, rotten, decayed. Her hair, once deep red, had bleached to a fiery orange. And marks of torture bruised her face, placed upon her with excruciating force by the brutal behemoths who captured her. Consumed by visions of her brother shuddering from the impact of her bullet in his throat, echoes of the moment reverberating in her mind throughout her captivity, the huntress had bore the shame in silence. The Cabal left her armor on, a second torture as the sun rose and baked her within the metal. No more. Days of torment had broken her of her guilt and grief. Leisurely her hand drifted to her elbow and quietly unbuckled the straps that held the armor to her forearm, revealing the burnt, blistered, skin underneath. Gathered at the center of their camp the group of Cabal didn't notice Sasha's actions. With ease the knife that had been hidden, attached to the underside of her gear, severed the rope that bound her and she disappeared into the shadows. Conversing in an alien tongue the monstrous soldiers sat in a wide circle around their fire. Surprised by the graceful appointment of a blade, soaring out of the dark, into the throat of the Cabal leader. Like an arrow from above it pierced the exposed flesh, tapping into a spring of blood, painting the sand a new shade of red. The remaining Cabal, startled and confused, looked to the severed tether of the lamp post. Futilely they searched for the apparition that haunted them. And as the yellow of the sun no longer shone, Phobos and Deimos rose, their faces peering at each other from alternate horizons. Their combined light glowed upon the city's outer structures, but it could not permeate the maze of metal corpses towering towards the stars, thus concealing the slaughter within. Inside the ruined metropolis the metal clad giants lumbered in every direction. Cutting at the silence were grains of red sand, crunching beneath their metallic boots with each step. A lone Cabal meandered farther from the glow of the fire, shining a beam of light down the barrel of its deadly, oversized weapon, illuminating the dark alleys and streets. Separated from its comrades the lone soldier shuddered in the dark night. Beneath the layers of clothing and metal, the creature was warm. It was the torrential fear, like thunder, shaking its very bones. Every shadow was alive, moving every time the warrior was not looking. Casting a fleeting glance at its dead commanding officer, the lonesome fiend did not look long enough to see the empty slit where the dagger had been. A gust of wind stirred sand from the street, forcing grains into the joints of the Cabals armor, hindering the ability to move. Distracted as it removed the sand, the Cabal didn't feel the extra weight scaling up its legs and back. And like the embers of their campfire, one by one the lives of the Cabal were extinguished. Their dying screams screeching through the cold desert expanse, warnings to any within earshot.