Summoned... to Die?

I turned around, watching with horror as mortar shells struck the lined-up ranks of warriors. There was an explosion, followed by painful cries. All the swordsmen rushed in all directions.

The buggies drove off at a remote distance and repeated the volley. At this time, new soldiers spilt out of the portal. To my great surprise, I saw new anthropoids: two-legged dogs and cats resembling the horses in human parts of the body, but with the others dog- and cat-like instead of horse-like. They were dressed in camouflage and armed with automatic rifles, which they immediately used. I mechanically covered myself with my shield, although I understood the futility of this decision. Several bullets went through the shield wood and cracked my chest. I felt a burning pain.

Fatal injury. Healing: -5 years of life.

The bullets came out of my body, and I was back in one piece. But what was that part about life? Seriously, what?

With the understanding that if I could be healed, it was necessary to take up the running, I rushed forward. The defence wouldn’t help me anymore. You couldn’t run away from a bullet, either.

The nearest dog was in a few tens of meters from me. The look of a guy wearing only a loincloth and running towards him clearly shocked the soldier. He stared at me with surprise and fired a burst.

Fatal injury. Healing: -5 years of life.

Lack of manoeuvrability. Activating Enchantment of Acceleration, the Equestrians faction: -10 years of life.

Hey, stop wasting my years! But thanks for that nice feeling of power in my legs. In a few moments I crossed the distance separating me from the dog and swung my sword, chopping the long-eared head.

His comrades saw that they were losing and switched shooting at me. I ran abruptly from side to side, but the fire density was too high. Yeah, yeah, ‘-5,’ I got it.

Lack of survivability. Activating Cyborgization, the Minos faction: -30 years of life.

That’s too much! But I felt like my body was changing, growing out metallic inclusions and wires wrapped in a steel sheath coming from my now-mechanical arms to a new, more bulky torso.

Some of the bullets ricocheted from me; some dug into the flesh and got stuck, stopped by the plates under my skin. I rushed to the nearest gunners and grabbed their heads. My metal fingers easily clenched together, bursting the skulls like overripe fruits.

The remaining gunners began to retreat in panic, sluggishly firing back. The buggies changed position, taking aim at me. I ran forward to confront it, only with a feel of explosions nearby. When I reached one of the cars, I knocked the windshield and pulled out the driver, with the force throwing him to the ground. I leapt to the shooter and sent him flying with a punch of a metal fist. Then I gripped the mortar and tried to hit the second car, but all I received was a message:

Lacking the data to use the Steelbeast Dominion faction weapons.

Her mate’s death didn’t escape the attention of the second driver. She, for it was a grey cat, decided to use hit-and-run tactics and began to ride around the plain as her shooter used the mortar.

Lack of attacking сability. Activating Elemental Magic, the Equestrians faction: -50 years of life.

Suddenly, on some intuitive level, I realized how to do magic. I clenched my teeth—another withdrawal of years I hadn’t even asked about! A roaring fireball ignited above my forehead (what?) and shot at the direction of the annoying machine.

Three armoured vehicles with many soldiers appeared out of the portal. Several missiles whooshed at me at once while the APC themselves shot with large-calibre machine guns.

Lack of protective capability. Activating Psychokinetic Barrier, the Nightmare Court faction: -50 years of life.

Bullets simply fell to the ground, not reaching me. The missiles merely popped like a festive firecracker.

Under the continuing fire, I shot a few more fireballs that burnt large mobs of dogs. The armour of one APC became so white-hot that its crew started jumping out of it like a bunch of cockroaches.

Shield Support: -30 years.

Holy shit, stop it already!

More APCs drove out of the portal, two tanks rolling behind with a loud clang. My shield couldn’t stand double salvo of cannons. ‘-5 years.’

I threw fireballs in armoured vehicles, but the plates covering them seemed to protect the crew inside from the heat. I tried to conjure a lightning bolt—zero effect. To check that lightning worked at all, I flung a chain lightning into a group of soldiers. Crumbled piles of ash were the only thing that’s left.

Shield Support + Magic Support: -100 years.

Okay, that’s bullshit now. Or was using both at one time so hard?

Lack of tactical capability. Activating Mutations, the Hive faction: -70 years of life.

One of my metal arms changed, transforming into a slimy black thing which writhed and squirmed with tentacles, insect legs and other nasty crap. My ‘hand’ opened, revealing a toothy maw. My shoulder inflated and pushed forward a clot; the mouth spat out a huge amount of thick liquid. The biomass flopped on one tank and corroded the armour with incredible speed, forcing the crew to run away in panic. I conjured a lightning bolt so they wouldn't think about it.

My mutated hand as it seemed needed time to create acid, so I had to keep the second tank alone for now.

Shield Support + Magic Support + Interfractional Transformation Support: -250 years.

Err, could I turn something off? Why the fuck did I keep getting it just like that?

I moved forward at speed. I chopped the head of a stocky dog carrying a rocket launcher. I rammed a tall, red-furred cat shooter. I cast fireballs at one of the APCs. I fried a group of machine gunners with a lightning bolt. I beheaded a sniper with a boulder hurled in the air. I spat acid into the second tank. I tore off the arms of a grenade thrower. I froze the cat armed with a shotgun.

Shield Support + Magic Support + Interfractional Transformation Support: -250 years.

Breathing heavily, I remembered that I wasn’t the only one who had come to do fight. I turned around and saw that from a hundred remained, at best, a dozen. They were just helpless...

While I watched, two tractor-trailers left the portal carrying helicopters which had already begun to swing the propellers. I managed to shoot down one with an acid spit when it was on takeoff, but the second had risen into the air and successfully deviated from my fireball. Well, a lightning bolt; a hit! The engine stuttered and began to smoke, but the pilot activated the rotary machine guns and swept over me, shifting the shooting towards the swordsmen.

Apparently, the next flip of years would be my last.

I speeded to the remnants of the hundred that had met me.

Lack of support capabilities. Activating Shield Drone, the Sharpfeathers faction: -70 years of life.

A small winged machine materialized out of blue and lit up with a light blue colour, covering the survivors with an almost invisible field. Machine gun’s bullets flattened as they were blocked in the mid-air and didn't reach their destination. What's the difference between a drone shield and a psychic shield, I wonder? Maybe the latter protected only me?

The helicopter swooped down to the ground, ploughing great furrows in the soil with its blades. It caught a flame and, eventually, exploded.

Looks like there’s no one left. The portal blinked and disappeared.

The scanning of species is completed. Detecting an error in the initial manual input...

The error is detected. The line: >Life expectancy: 1000.

Setting the new value to 70... Done.

Returning body changes... Done.

We apologize for the inconvenience.

The opportunity to continue to protect the Equestrians faction is granted as an apology. Subscription fee: 1 year of life per day.

Thank you!

I was lying on the ground. I felt like I was back in my normal body. I sniffed. The stench of smoke, burnt meat, excrement and blood lingered in the air.

I heard cautious footsteps. Then, quiet voices.

“The Moriturus survived?”

“This can't be happening.”

“Well, there he is, breathing.”

Someone gently dabbed me with a finger.

“Hey!” I gasped in dissatisfaction, causing a storm of exclamations.

The frightened horses fell on their knees, but after noticing that I was simply lying and did nothing, they rose again.

“Let's take him to the elder.”