Fighting the Inevitable

Too many of them.
More of those deadly clusters, living meat shielding the fragile bomb creatures.
Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. Ancient words he’s lived his life by. He sights, fires into the chaos. One of the bomb things explodes as his round hits, its defenders reduced instantly to melting carrion. His snipers follow his lead.
Still, too little. Still, too late.
He counts five more bomb clusters, ten more, twenty, half lost in the charging horde. For every one killed, another two emerge.
Failure becomes inevitable. Defeat, certain.
Grimly, Reaper fights inevitability.
The Wall shakes.
To the last, he fights on.