DB Multiverse

As he was preparing himself to return to his post on the left of the young Fuller, Wigner noticed the strange status quo that had contaminated the centre of the battlefield, from Bragg to Lidar. His eyes wandered towards the epicentre of the phenomenon, where he easily recognised the impressive silhouette of Dirac. He himself was embraced against a gigantic, if not monstrous Kollok. Admittedly, though Dirac's stature stood out amongst Heloïtes, it was barely on par with Kollok warriors. Seeing him overshadowed gave Wigner an uneasy feeling.

He evaluated the situation on Fuller's side. The newcomer was defending himself well and controlled the situation over a large perimeter... but to his left the Kollok front, reinforced by armoured vehicles, was fast advancing. It risked to land itself into the unprotected flanks of the Heloïte army, barely covered by the remains of the Dardanites, who had themselves fallen back.

The leader of the Ultras barely dodged the heated ray spat out by an enemy tank. As Feyn flew over to remedy to this unseemly machine, Wigner scolded himself. He had repeated it enough times: "Stay focused!"

In a shower of sparks, he suddenly soared high. This way he could observe the Ultras' progression on the right wing of the offensive without tempting the enemy below yet again.

Led and Lidar were also stuck in the midst of the battle within the improvised arena. Further on, Bose, Nim and Waals seemed to fight with efficiency on the line that they had been tasked with.

The orders were always to avoid non-vital communications during combat, but in such circumstances, he wouldn't risk much contacting the immobilized warriors. Dirac had visibly come closer to Led. It was therefore him that Wigner chose to ask information from, including to make it quick. The extremity of the left flank would not suffer his absence much longer.

The veteran gave it to him short and simple.

"Led's wound. That' s what pushed Dirac to expose himself and accept an unarmed duel at the heart of the melee" he analysed.

After one last piece of advice Wigner hit the gas of his photon thrusters to hurl himself toward the Kollok outbreak at the extreme left of the frontline. He wished encouragements for the fight to come to the four Heloïtes stuck amidst the horde - even more so for Dirac.

The sound of his leader's voice cheered Dirac somewhat.

The grasp against the monstrous Kollok was torture. His arms, his shoulders, his backside; all the way to his legs, all the muscles of the Heloïte champion were screaming mercy... and he was starting to doubt. And doubt, in this sort of confrontation, was synonymous with defeat!

It would be a cold day in hell before he gave this red cheeky beast that satisfaction!

That and his capitulation would have energized further the spectators already frantically behind their champion. On the ground, the monster would surely press his advantage. Weakened, the small second necessary to reconstitute his combat gear would surely prove fatal to the largest Ultra.

Thinking quickly, Dirac tried to find an honourable way to turn the tides in his favour. A back-handed approach to end the duel would unfailingly light the fuse. He need the Kollok simpletons to believe his superiority normal for him to have the slightest chance to return to regular combat before being shredded to pieces.

For starters, he chose to bend down. His opponent was surprised to suddenly see him drop a knee to the ground. Cheers exploded from the Kollok clan saluting what appeared strongly as an admission of defeat by the Heloïte fighter.

Braag and Led stiffened ostensibly; too far to help his comerade, Lidar frowned. All knew Dirac in trouble if he was beaten.

A rumour spread across the brown army behind the Ultras.

The Heloïte army hadn't stopped... and the battle that the blue troupes had brought was creeping upon the nearest Kollok spectators.

Dirac knew he had to finish quickly.

Despite his suffering, despite the blazing of the fire in his veins, in every muscle fibre pushed to their ultimate level, he allowed a smirk to adorn his face otherwise locked in the effort.

Perplexity suddenly showed itself in the predator's eyes, heartening Dirac somewhat as he gave way even more terrain bringing his trembling arms inwards. The contrast between signs of defeat and the confident smile from the Heloïte must have created a damning confusion within the simplistic logic of the monster. An added bonus to the pretty trick Dirac was getting ready to pull on the gigantic Kollok.

The colossal Ultra forced the knotted hands to the left, and then brining them back to the centre. He paused. Taking a breath, mobilizing what he had left of energy, of strength... of fighting rage.

He suddenly took a step back, bringing his whole body with him. Using the effect of surprised and the sudden imbalance of the Kollok, he thrust himself forward, letting go with his left hand. In a liberating scream, he let all the packed brutality explode, twisting his opponents arm in a cantilever position and firmly grabbing the belt with his free hand. The manoeuvre placed him ideally below the Kollok's centre of gravity. In a singly movement, with a formidable push, he unravelled his arms, attempting to unearth the enormous body of his opponent, powerless to counter . For an instant, Dirac was sure his arms, too tired from the prolonged wrestle, would not be able to lift such a heavy mass above his head. With one last leap of pride, like a whip lashing out, a powerful will to live, he managed the exploit to brandish high his Kollok challenger. In his triumph, the Kollok's body had hardened from the anger at having been fooled. No matter his trembling arms, his protruding blood vessels, his reddened face or the sweat gleaming in ducts along his entire body... the exploit was there. It was saluted at its just value by loud acclamations by a public torn between admiration for the champion and the deception at the loss of their favourite.

The lap of honour that Dirac offered himself despite the immense difficulty of this new test of strength wasn't only dedicated to his moment of glory. All the meanwhile, he had all the luxry to gauge the position of his compatriots, as well as his own situation. Though he had known of the interest of the Kolloks in his fight, he was nevertheless surprised at the size of the improvised arena. Of course, he knew Led was implicated since it was mainly to buy him time that Dirac had renounced his combat gear... but seeing Braag and Lidar also stuck in the mix was bothersome. It wouldn't be two but four Ultras that were going to have to rip themselves out of this shithole! To top it off, on this part of the frontline, the Kollok tanks were free to roam to security at the back. This was not the time to sit back and enjoy the view!

As the Heloïte giant started to reconstitute his equipment, a shadow abruptly covered a large part of the battle field.

No time to try understand!

With a jerk, Dirac offloaded the meat sac that was perched above his auburn hair. For an instant, he contemplated skewering the beast before it landed. He chose not to finally, deciding the warrior had earned this short reprieve. It was not often an adversary other than an Ultra gave him such difficulty.

As Dirac threw one last look towards the titan getting up around his own, Wigner's alarm signal resonated within the implants soldered to his temples.

Steered by the orders of their leader, the Ultras were quick to react.

Braag, Dirac and Bose instantly soared vertically in a triple shower of sparks. They flew towards a sudden assault of drones that came crashing out of an unknown spaceship barely a hundred metres above the battlefield.

Amidst the mess of deathly light shots, Led and Lidar fought against the melee. They received aerial support from Nim, Feyn and Fuller who were despatched to help extricate them from the Gordian knot caused by Dirac's improvised duel.

The three Utlras that had left to go drone hunting were also very busy!

All had made the mistake of thinking they had to protect the main force against these deviously fast and small devices. The machines seemed in fact to be programmed to give priority to the Ultras themselves, and their lasers were no joke.

The three flying Heloïtes quickly found that criss-crossing each other was an effective tactic to obliterate the metal balls following them.

After a ferocious offensive, Wigner regained altitude to evaluate the new situation. Drones were not part of the usual Kollok arsenal, so where were they coming from?

A burst of light made him look upwards.

All the way up there, under the yellow veil of the Dardanite sky, one of the Heloïte cruisers had just materialised a canon.

By convention, large warships never attacked ground forces - soldiers gutted one another in battle, but in a civilised manner. In the past, star wars had caused immense damages, the nations had realised that employing such heavy artillery outside of aerial combat would inevitably only lead to the genocides of both engaged civilisations. No one wanted to win a war over a dead planet. As such, an informal accord was adopted. Of course, Helior had a game changer of possessing the highest war technology in the galaxy, one capable of erasing planets from the cosmos. Nonetheless, the Counsel of the Wise insisted on conserving the principles that were theirs. Helior would never budge from its first principle: always act as a defender... as much for its own interests as those of its allies, as much as a moral sense. This allowed them to play a key role in imposing themselves as judges of peace. Helior did not abuse its power, but whoever would be tempted to was exposing himself to the charms of total annihilation. Just what was needed to stir resentment, on top of the lust that their formidable scientific riches could spark.

However, against a big enough spaceship, an attack from the cruiser was perfectly regular. Hence why Galasir had quickly hidden away his fleet from Dardanite airspace before the arrival of the Heloïte backup.

The gigantic battleship commandeered by General Maserf entering the dance was not an event that went unnoticed. Just like Wigner, quite a few combatants had raised their gazes to follow the trajectory of his powerful attack, though barely visible from the ground. A martial clamour raised itself from the ranks of blue and orange, celebrating in advance the fall of the large enemy warship silhouette onto the brown waves.

A fraction of a second before hitting its mark, the powerful beam dissipated in a deafening crackle.

— "A force-field! These dastards have a force-field strong enough to stop a class V Ultra-waver!", blurted out loud the leader of the Ultras despite himself.

Combat drones, a last-generation corvette, who could possibly have provided such state of the art equipment to the sinister Galasir?