The hardest part about this more modern combat situation is its difficult to tell what side you are on! Back when I used to fight in wars between idiots both sides would wear garish outfits that easily defined who was fighting who (or one side would use horrific magic incantations and the other regular weaponry, again people were defined!). So when Slats and I landed among a group of men, I almost thought they were our own camp (I mean we were supposed to be dropping in, I had no idea we were part of an invasion force that had already failed to take this area, I guess if I paid attention to the commander of this outfit I'd have known that, but that would require me to pay attention and we all know how that won't happen!) Slats somehow could determine we were in the wrong group though because he raised his weapon.
"Well shit." His weapon raising was greeted by the westerners raising theirs, "You going to do something old man?"
"Oh these aren't our guys?"
"No, no they are not." I could see they too like Slats wore bullets on their bodies out in the open, children I believe I have mentioned this is dangerous around someone like myself before.
"Duck." And I did and Slats to his credit did as well. I ignited the powder in the bullets. Terrified soldiers were killed by their weapons, and their friends as suddenly inert ammunition became deadly projectiles. Slats looked at me with a weird sort of awe. When it was all said and done there was a nice blast radius of dead people.
"Good gods, what are you?" I dusted myself off as I am want to do.
"Late for a meeting with your fellows Slats I figure." I didn't want to go into it, I would come to find out in my absence magic had steadily decreased in the world (I knew why and it was something awful, but I'll get to that), and because of that it was weird for someone to use an open display of it. But I didn't care because under the usual Lorentino plan of "Do anything to survive." I was out to do exactly that.
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