Clear the Area

You find your way back down, and I'll keep the area clear.

I made the wrong decision. And my unit would let me die for it, and no one would blame them. We were fine soldiers, the best, with the best equipment and weapons, a truly formidable band of warriors. But we were just outnumbered and outgunned. None of us would survive and we knew it. We weren't fighting out of principle, or honor, or hope anymore. It was just reflex. It gave us something to do while we died.

We were twenty, lined up shoulder to shoulder around a central pedestal in a round room. The spawn entered through every opening into the room, and there were many. It was a horribly indefensible position, an impossible situation. Our best guns, our best aim, just delayed the inevitable, they were making ground, slowly.

A shower of broken glass from the roof was the least of our worries, but what followed it would capture our attention.

The claws of his feet dug deep furrows into the solid marble base we stood around, most of us were thrown from our feet in the impact. And their we waited for death still stunned from the tremendous crash. We waited for the feel of their teeth, and the small, quick cuts, and the slow, inescapable death.
But the benevolent, deafening sound of armor-class vulcan cannons shook a few of us into the dangerously optimistic hope of leaving the museum alive.
"It's Jonesy" I whispered to myself, unable to hear, unable to even feel my face mouth the words.
A thousand pained Spawn squeals gnawed at our minds, a sound we would never forget. The spawns flew into a rage, they lit him up with their beams, his armor hissing and popping from the tremendous energy. The heat on the armor burned the eyes just to look at it, the pain his suit must've felt. What had been our slaughter was now their slaughter. Though, even an armor suit didn't have enough ammunition or firepower to salvage this battle, it was time to go.

"I'll keep the area clear" he shouted to us, whirling his cannons in wide arcs at the base of the walls.

He shrugged off a bubble of melted armor crawling through the seams in his leg plate.