Brouhaha

"The greatest war Shuggazoom has ever seen."

There wasn't much blood on the ground. They had had casualties and injuries of course, but most of their allies were still alive at least, just incapable of battle at the moment. They fought anyway.

Ooze drenched the ground in a shower. Their numbers could be spared—they weren't alive and were easy to make, to replace. They were faster, stronger, and smarter though—harder to completely annihilate.

They didn't get breaks. It wasn't a real war—there were no times of peace and recuperation for both sides, they didn't fight squarely—it was an overwhelming onslaught of undead everyday with no end in sight. It was like the most intense and graphic brutal zombie video game come to life—only you didn't have extra lives to depend on to get you through it. There was no rest, no peace, and no hope.

Citizens had been evacuated to nearby moonstations and planets. Those that chose to stay behind and fight were put to basic training that took up most of the time outside real battle. The planet itself was almost unrecognizable to the defenders. The land was charred and crushed beyond repair—the city would have to be rebuilt from the structure up. It had been sunk two months in.

Most of their tactics were guerrilla based over the remaining uninhabitable lands now. Most of the time they didn't have any tactics; they just kept fighting and swinging and shooting and jabbing and kicking until they fell with exhaustion or injury. Defending the only base that could recharge the Super Robot now; defending what little life was left on the planet.

Overwhelming odds seemed to be the one real advantage of the Skeleton King—death had certainly agreed with him.

After a year into the war many of the allies were not around anymore. The planet was no longer beautiful and lush with perfect blue skies and the heroes were irreparably changed creatures. One message last was sent out to the remaining citizens:

War over. Planet uninhabitable. Shuggazoom destroyed. Find new homes.